Hey folks, Harry here... sometimes there comes a pair of movies you see back to back that you wonder... WHAT ON EARTH HAPPENED? Capone has just experienced the fierce terror known only as the pain of medocrity run wild... Folks, for the safety of the future children that lay within your DNA structure... beware these films!!!
Hey, Harry. Capone in Chicago here with reviews of (a.k.a. warnings about) two films that go right in the landfill as far as I'm concerned: JOE DIRT and CROCODILE DUNDEE IN LOS ANGELES.
Looking back over the reviews I've sent to this site so far in 2001, I've come to accept my lot in life and the bringer of bad tidings, and now you must accept me as your protector. Heed my word, people. Avoid these movies as if your life depended on it. They will shave weeks off your life, more so than any cigarette smoke or asbestos in a school or New Jersey toxic dump. You will not be told twice.
I'm seeing MEMENTO tonight, so that should clear my mind of these two
attrocities. I can forgive, but I will never forget. Brace yourselves...
JOE DIRT
I was really, really hoping that JOE DIRT would be one of those “so-dumb-it’s-funny” or “so-bad-it’s-good” kind of films. Alas, the latest unfunny hunk of junk from David Spade is dumb and bad without being funny or any damn good. I was extra disappointed because I like Spade and think he deserves his shot and something better than this nonsense. I don’t watch “Just Shoot Me,” but his stint on “Saturday Night Live” was great and he’s a good talk show guest. It’s just too bad that all of these old SNL guys (Chris Rock, Adam Sandler, and now Spade) all think they have to have some kind of family appeal. They make sterile, lame, unoriginal drivel that hurts my eyes to watch.
I’ll attempt at describing the story. Joe is a radio station janitor who is pulled into the studio by one of the more popular DJs (Dennis Miller) to tell his life story to the world (and us). We find out his mullet hairstyle is actually a wig that was placed on his head as a child to cover up a hole exposing his brain. When the skull sealed up, it grafted the hair to his head. (If you think that sounds funny, it’s because I’m telling it funny; the movie even mucks this story up.) At an early age, Joe loses his parents at the Grand Canyon, and he spend the rest of his life looking for them with very few clues. Along the way he makes friends with a lot of beautiful women and bizarre characters, including a fellow janitor played by Christopher Walken. Walken is probably the best thing about JOE DIRT, but he should still be ashamed of himself for being in this movie. I hope he at least donated his paycheck to a charity or something to justify being seen here.
Nothing in JOE DIRT comes as a surprise, especially the jokes. Every one of
them you can see coming a mile away. Uh, oh. Joe’s gonna climb into a hot
air balloon during a wind storm to help bring it down. I wonder what’s going
to happen next. Uh, oh. Joe’s is picking a fight with a guy three times his
size; I hope he doesn’t get hurt! If you think I’m exaggerating, take your
chances and waste your money. Spade doesn’t take advantage of even half the
white-trash jokes that he could have. Instead, he comes across as a skinny
wuss, and this film is pure torture from beginning to end.
CROCODILE DUNDEE IN LOS ANGELES
The only possible reason I can think of for Paul Hogan to have made this movie is that he was hoping people would confuse him with the immensely popular Animal Planet’s “Crocodile Hunter.” I’m hear to warn all the kiddies that you will not be seeing Steve and Terri Irwin in this film. Instead you get a bored looking, leathery Hogan and his equally disinterested wife Linda Kozlowski answering the world’s prayer by reprising their roles as Mick Dundee and Sue Charlton.
I had a sneaking suspicion walking into this screening that the movie would be bad, but nothing prepared me for what I encountered. I would have rather watched a reel of all of Hogan’s Outback commercials than this. The story involves Dundee moving to L.A. for a few months with Sue and their son Mikey, so Sue can work for her father at the newspaper he owns until he can find a permanent replacement for the job. Already, I’m groaning and shifting in my seat. This is going to be a long 90 minutes. Once in L.A., Mick immediately gets a job as an extra on the Paramount lot. Shock of shocks, the geniuses at Paramount are the ones putting out the miserable film, and I guess they wanted to spend as little money as possible, so most of the film takes place at the studio. Why build new sets when there are hundreds of old ones to pick from, right? Mick begins investigating a sleazy production company head who keeps making bad movies that don’t make any money (no comment). Why would anyone make movies and sequels to those movies if they all bomb? (no really, I’m not going to say it). It turns out the movie people are smuggling something (I won’t say what; I don’t want to ruin the surprise) into the U.S. through the production company, and Mick is on the case.
I thought at first the references to bad movies and sequels was a deliberate attempt at satire. I’m not sure who I was trying to fool, but I don’t even think the makers of CROCODILE DUNDEE saw the irony in their script. Who in the world was waiting for this movie to be made? Give me their address, and I’ll pound them thoroughly. I know I just spent all that time bashing JOE DIRT, but this film is far worse. No one here is even trying. Oh, and did I mention there were celebrity cameos by the likes of Aida Turturro, Paul Rodriguez, and (wait for it) George Hamilton? GEORGE HAMILTON??!! And believe it or not, he has the funniest scene in the movie. I’m almost out of breath with rage about this movie. Don’t even go on a bet. In the end, we all lose. Let’s boycott this movie now, so Paramount is forced to send this crap straight to video. I think the only reason they’re putting it out in the first place is because it’s a 90-minute commercial for their company. Everyone in the film is wearing Paramount merchandise. Everyone responsible for CRAPADILE DUNGHEAP IN LOS ANGELES should bury their heads in a kangaroo’s pouch and stay there.
Capone
