Leon, the stuck in the '70s Ladies Man, with his Afro and his Courvoisier, his Mike Brady gone pimpin' wardrobe, and his lazy hedonist's stoned lisp (the sound of a man who has never, in his mind, left the hot tub at Plato's Retreat), is no more lusty than a lot of guys, but his folly is that he thinks anatomy is love: To Leon, the way to a woman's heart is through her butt.
If ''The Ladies Man'' had plopped Leon into a tiger striped night world as casually raunchy as he is, he might have emerged as a kind of funk soul brother to Austin Powers. This, however, is one more case of a winning ''SNL'' character tamed by the wan, fizzled farce around him. There's an amusingly gross soul food eating showdown, as well as an overemphatic turn by Will Ferrell as a repressed gay wrestling fanatic who wants to castrate Leon. By the end, the movie has done it for him.
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