Here’s how much of a true musketeer movie Ring of the Musketeers is: More than once in the end credits, it misspells the word as “muskateer.” But I’d expect nothing less from a feature film that appears to be a TV pilot with the next two episodes tacked on. Furthermore, it stars a mulleted and mustachioed David Hasselhoff as one of the Three Musketeers, but in modern-day Los Angeles.

The Hoff is D’Artagnan, who’s so serious about the freelance swashbucklin’ gig that he lives in a castle and eats chickens whole, with no utensils. Alison Doody (Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade) is Athos, aka sultry-voiced radio host Dr. Love. Frilly-haired German Thomas Gottschalk (Think Big) is Porthos, who wears a Team Mickey sweatshirt and can dunk his head in a fish tank for the count of 100. The trio rides tandem on Harleys and takes orders from antique store owner Treville (John Rhys-Davies).

Then there’s Burt Aramis (Cheech Marin), the stereotypical Mexican thief who fences VCRs and jewelry, and ends conversations with the baffling “It’s been a slice!” When he steals the fabled titular item that’s passed down from generation to generation, he has no choice but to join them in their adventures, which include saving a kidnapped 9-year-old boy whose captors feed him dog food on white bread. Two other missions come their way, including one with Corbin Bernsen acting coked-out, which strengthen our “failed TV series” theory.

Directed by Pee-wee’s Playhouse resident Jambi, John Paragon, who co-wrote with 24 creator Joel Surnow, Ring of the Musketeers is a bad idea from the start that gets worse with each aching minute. It would be even without the scene in which the Hoff gives an impromptu one-man synth concert on a trailer in an alleyway when he should be stopping a commercial airline flight from crashing, then backflips his way into a kicking tussle. Priorities. —Rod Lott

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