The Zen of Dating
Dex, the main character in "The Tao of Steve," is an unlikely lothario, to put it mildly. He is a fat, 32-year-old part-time kindergarten teacher who shares a house in Santa Fe with three slacker roommates and a dog that lives to have whipped cream shot into his mouth from the can. Dex's own ambitions rarely exceed lounging around in a bathrobe, smoking dope, and spouting Zen platitudes. And yes, meeting the ladies.
As it turns out, the ladies find Dex's wit and easy manner, carried off perfectly by Donal Logue, simply irresistible. Over the course of this charming romantic comedy, Dex, despite all his shortcomings, manages to score with a frequency and ease that would make James Bond think he woke up in some inverted parallel universe.
The movie begins at Dex's college reunion, where he has sex with an old girlfriend in the library and then escorts her back to her handsome, well-dressed husband. As he walks through the crowd, Dex overhears women, many of them his former conquests, commenting on how much the "smartest guy on campus" has let himself go. He's unfazed. When one woman says to his face, "You were Elvis!" he calmly replies, "Well, now I'm fat Elvis." He orders a drink at the bar, and soon the bartender, a comely coed, falls under his glib spell.
Dex knows what he's got, and he's the first to admit it ain't looks. "I mean, look at me!" he tells his much thinner and far lonelier friends who are always tapping him for dating advice. His secret? He has the right philosophy of life and love, or at least lust--a personal Weltanschauung he cobbled together with threads from Lao-tzu, Heidegger, and Marx (Groucho, that is). He calls his system the Tao of Steve-"Steve" being the name that represents for him all that is cool, confident, and unruffled, no matter what life may bring. The examples he cites are Steve McGarrett, Steve Austin, and the all-time king of laid-back Steves, Mr. McQueen.
It's a philosophy Dex began formulating back in Phil 101, where he cut through the beer fog long enough to glean a vocabulary (a decade after college his "favorite word" is still "solipsistic") and a reading list with which to impress chicks and rationalize his life as a confirmed underachiever. "Slacker detachment is a Buddhist virtue," he argues in one scene. In another, he muses: "Hitler did a lot, and don't we all wish he'd stayed home and got stoned?"
As a theory of seduction, the Tao of Steve boils down to three rules: