Ghost Rock (2003)

Despite its title, Ghost Rock is not a spook-filled musical. It’s a kung-fu western! Hey, great idea … when it was Jackie Chan’s Shanghai Noon. But starring Gary Busey? Not so much.

Perpetually carrying that kicked-by-a-horse look and what looks like a bellyful of sausage patties, Busey plays the corrupt mayor of Ghost Rock, a dusty old backlot, er, town run by crooks and outlaws. Michael Worth (Acapulco H.E.A.T.) and lovely Jenya Lano (Stealing Candy) return there after being absent for many years to settle an old score.

Adrienne Barbeau is the madam of the local whorehouse, Jeff Fahey makes a cameo and … I’m not making this sound any more inviting, am I? Some of Busey’s set-ups are shot in an entirely different film stock, so they don’t match other shot within the same scene.

Amateurish and inept, Ghost Rock has as many clichés as it does bullets fired, with all the predictability of a staged theme-park gunfight (Guy falls from second-story railing? Check!), acted with local theater types who think they’re making art. They aren’t. —Rod Lott

Buy it at Amazon.

Track Down (2000)

Despite Miramax’s best efforts to make you think otherwise (i.e. never releasing it in theaters, waiting five years to dump it on video, giving Skeet Ulrich a lead role), Track Down isn’t as bad as you’d expect.

It’s the true story of Kevin Mitnick, the hacker who evaded the FBI for two years after breaking into computer networks and stealing software and data that could have been highly damaging, had he chosen to do so.

Mitnick is played by Ulrich, who no longer looks like Johnny Depp, but Kevin Federline. As he attempts to live off the grid, he’s chased not only by federal agents, but computer security expert Tsutomu Shimomura (Russell Wong), whose hard drive Mitnick wiped clean and whose super-secret virus-worm-thingie he swiped.

Track Down has an interesting dilemma: How do you make hacking visually exciting? Well, other than having Angelina Jolie strip down in a pool, you can’t. So it has to rely on your standard cat-and-mouse setup to generate any thrills. But in doing so, Track Down forgets to dumb down the technology aspect to make it easily acceptable. It assumes you already know a lot about hacking, from the lingo to the how-to.

I obviously don’t know as much as I should have, because after watching the film, I have no idea what exactly Mitnick did or who Shimomura is. But I do know that Halloween 6 director Joe Chappelle so obviously used this flashy piece as a calling card to get his CSI: Miami gig.

Jeremy Sisto, Master P and Amanda Peet are thrown into the cast just to piss me off. —Rod Lott

Buy it at Amazon.

Da’ Booty Shop (2009)

As much as you may love movies, you’re human and only have so much time. Some movies are simply going to fall by the wayside, never to be seen by your eyes. That’s okay. You’re not a bad person. Unless you’re Rod Lott (the creator of this site) and that movie is Da’ Booty Shop. In that case, you’re going to suffer eternal torment in Hades for what you did.

See, a while back, someone sent a DVD copy of that film to Rod to review and he decided he could live the whole rest of his life without doing so. I mocked him for his refusal and suggested he was a coward. In retaliation, he sent it to me and dared me to watch and review it. And I did, first in video form (see below) and now here in print. Does this make me a better person than him? Yes. Yes it does.

An “urban comedy” (that means it’s about black people), Da’ Booty Shop recounts the adventures of a stripper named Yolanda (Trina McGee), who reluctantly inherits the responsibilities of an “urban” hair salon (that means it’s for black people) after her brother (Marcello Thedford) is sent to jail for undisclosed reasons. Yolanda is an idiot and is no way prepared to deal with the mess her brother has left for her to deal with. For some reason, she decides to hire her stripper friends to work at the salon, and it all ends happily.

The plot is unimportant. All that matters is that Da’ Booty Shop really sucks and I was man enough to watch it and someone else wasn’t. Remember that. I know I will. —Allan Mott

Buy it at Amazon.

The Ghost (1963)

If you like horror movies and are familiar with the films of Barbara Steele and don’t like them, go to your room right now. You’re in time out until I tell you it’s okay to rejoin the human race.

The Ghost was her fifth spook show and a sequel of sorts to the previous year’s The Horrible Dr. Hitchcock, also directed by Riccardo Freda. In this one, Elio Jotta co-stars as the paralyzed and dying Dr. H. His wife and her lover, Dr. Livingstone (Peter Baldwin), decide to bump him off so she can inherit his fortune and they can spend it.

But the not-so-good Dr. Hitchcock is no sooner in his tomb than he is out of it again, seemly haunting the couple, especially his wife. Such a waste of good poison, too.

Freda — who deserves to be remembered with Dario Argento, Mario Bava and Lucio Fulci — creates suspense with nothing more than sound, things you think you see, outstanding production design, Steele’s gorgeous face, and a budget of about $17. But come on, all you really need is Steele’s face.

If you don’t know her work, shame on you, but you can catch up with some of her early pictures, all easily available on DVD. Look for Black Sunday (1960), The Pit and the Pendulum (1961) and Castle of Blood (1964). No scream queen was ever better at facially registering a variety of emotions at once. Hell, no scream queen was ever better, period. —Doug Bentin

Buy it at Amazon.

Five Minutes to Live (1961)

Five Minutes to Live — aka Door-to-Door Maniac — stars singer Johnny Cash as Johnny Cabot, a two-bit crook who was framed when his partner dropped the dime on him during a warehouse job on the Jersey waterfront. After mowing down two coppers, Johnny bides time in a motel 2,000 miles away, waiting for the heat to subside.

Restless, he gets an offer from goodfella Fred Dorella, who’s got a score that’ll quench Johnny’s thirst for the juice. Dorella plans to walk right into the bank and ask for a $70,000 withdrawal from exec Mr. Wilson, while Johnny holds Mrs. Wilson for ransom at home. Progress will be updated in five-minute intervals via phone, but if Dorella doesn’t dial, Johnny is to ice her.

For a film released in ’61 starring legendary guitar slinger Cash, Five Minutes is edgy and hyperviolent. Cash is surprisingly convincing as the skittish menace. With his personal history, maybe some of that manic energy is pure method, with him howling the methamphetamine blues.

The script tries to add some nuance with a subplot involving Mr. Wilson having a fling. The marital unrest allows for a brief moment where the audience is led to question if the bank exec/hubby will play nice with the robbers’ demands. Unfortunately, all of that gets cancelled like a bad check by a bait-and-switch climax involving the couple’s kid and a sanitized (and outlandish) Hollywood ending, tacked on to realign the studio’s moral compass. Moviegoers know it’s okay to shoot someone … just to watch them die. —Joshua Jabcuga

Buy it at Amazon.

Random Genre & Cult Movie Reviews