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BIG MONEY HUSTLAS
* * * (2000, 97 minutes, Unrated)
Featuring ICP, Mick Foley, Harland Williams and a guy in an ape suit.
This film stars the Insane Clown Posse. I have it on good authority that the Insane Clown Posse is
a rap band of circus performers with dubious sanity.
* * * (2000, 97 minutes, Unrated)
Featuring ICP, Mick Foley, Harland Williams and a guy in an ape suit.
This film stars the Insane Clown Posse. I have it on good authority that the Insane Clown Posse is
a rap band of circus performers with dubious sanity.
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We open in a church during a funeral service,
where a preacher is carrying on about how
everyone must givegivegive and give some
more to the Chur-- uh, "Lord." Holy crap, this
scene is every Catholic sermon I ever sat
through as a kid.
And there, in the pews, is one of the members
of ICP. No, I don't know which one -- he's the
one in the clown paint. By the way, I now totally
want to wear clown paint to church this
Sunday. ICP Guy #1 tells us via internal
monologue that he knows the deceased and
that it saddens him that the deceased is
where a preacher is carrying on about how
everyone must givegivegive and give some
more to the Chur-- uh, "Lord." Holy crap, this
scene is every Catholic sermon I ever sat
through as a kid.
And there, in the pews, is one of the members
of ICP. No, I don't know which one -- he's the
one in the clown paint. By the way, I now totally
want to wear clown paint to church this
Sunday. ICP Guy #1 tells us via internal
monologue that he knows the deceased and
that it saddens him that the deceased is
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| Insane Clown Posse: Multi-media artists. |
deceased because of some "bitch-ass money." Hit the Waves of Flashbackery!
Where we meet ICP Guy #2, who plays a crime lord named Big Baby Sweets. We know he's a
crime lord because of the cigars, the henchmen, the excessive amounts of gold and leopard print,
Where we meet ICP Guy #2, who plays a crime lord named Big Baby Sweets. We know he's a
crime lord because of the cigars, the henchmen, the excessive amounts of gold and leopard print,
| Leopard Print: The look of villainy |
and the fact that the movie tell us so. His two henchmen, Lil Poot
and Big Stank, aren't cool enough to get face paint.
Two things are obvious about the movie at this point:
and Big Stank, aren't cool enough to get face paint.
Two things are obvious about the movie at this point:
- The excessive use of action coming to a record-scratching
halt in the first 10 minutes of the film points to just how
ham-fisted this movie is. - When in doubt, the screenwriters simply inserted either
"bitch" or some variation of "motherfucker" into the
dialogue. Big Baby Sweets alone must ask for his
“mutherfuckin’ mon-NEY” at least 400 times in the film.
(That’s an exaggeration. But 86 versions of “motherfucker” – not “fuck,” but either “motherfucker” or
“mutherfuckin’” – is not an exaggeration. I counted.)
(In contrast, “bitch” is only used 51 times.)
Enter ICP Guy #1, one “Sugar Bear,” a super cop newly transferred into New York City to take on Big
Baby Sweets. Sugar Bear is something of a blaxploitation superhero, speaking almost exclusively
in rhyme. Aiding him is Harland William’s dorky Harry Cox and a truckload of cops-eating-donuts
gags.
“mutherfuckin’” – is not an exaggeration. I counted.)
(In contrast, “bitch” is only used 51 times.)
Enter ICP Guy #1, one “Sugar Bear,” a super cop newly transferred into New York City to take on Big
Baby Sweets. Sugar Bear is something of a blaxploitation superhero, speaking almost exclusively
in rhyme. Aiding him is Harland William’s dorky Harry Cox and a truckload of cops-eating-donuts
gags.
| Cop Eating Donuts = Comedy Gold |
I was starting to think this film would be one decrepit knee-
slapper after another when a foiled robbery scene kicked
things up a notch. Sugar Bear and Harry Cox (sigh) are
grabbing a snack in a donut shop (sigh) when a guy in an
ape suit (!!) busts in, holding everyone at gunpoint.
“I’m wearing an ape suite! That means I don’t give a fuck!”
There’s no denying that logic. Sugar Bear, unimpressed,
saunters up to the guy in the ape suit and takes him out with
my all-time favorite wresting move, the DDT. That won some
good will.
But that’s the double-edged sword of Big Money Hustlas: It’s
not-so much a coherent crime story (humorous or otherwise)
as a collection of off-beat wackiness. Sure, some of the
jokes go over like a stale fart. Yes, the obese stripper comes
hand-in-hand with a slew of tired fat-people-eating jokes, but
it’s almost worth it to hear an old man call for her to show off
slapper after another when a foiled robbery scene kicked
things up a notch. Sugar Bear and Harry Cox (sigh) are
grabbing a snack in a donut shop (sigh) when a guy in an
ape suit (!!) busts in, holding everyone at gunpoint.
“I’m wearing an ape suite! That means I don’t give a fuck!”
There’s no denying that logic. Sugar Bear, unimpressed,
saunters up to the guy in the ape suit and takes him out with
my all-time favorite wresting move, the DDT. That won some
good will.
But that’s the double-edged sword of Big Money Hustlas: It’s
not-so much a coherent crime story (humorous or otherwise)
as a collection of off-beat wackiness. Sure, some of the
jokes go over like a stale fart. Yes, the obese stripper comes
hand-in-hand with a slew of tired fat-people-eating jokes, but
it’s almost worth it to hear an old man call for her to show off
her “family meatballs” or for the sex scene.
The same holds true for the film’s cameos. As a member of Big Baby Sweets’ crime syndicate,
Fred “Rerun” Berry does give an obligatory “Hey-HEY-Hey,” but I really dug the idea of a specialist of
such brand knock-offs as “Adidass” apparel (perhaps one of the writers wrote for The Asylum?).
Rudy Ray Moore shows up as Dolemite, and yes, he does tell Sugar Bear to “Put your weight on it,
put your weight on it, put your weight on it!”, but the cameo by pro wrestler and best-selling author
The same holds true for the film’s cameos. As a member of Big Baby Sweets’ crime syndicate,
Fred “Rerun” Berry does give an obligatory “Hey-HEY-Hey,” but I really dug the idea of a specialist of
such brand knock-offs as “Adidass” apparel (perhaps one of the writers wrote for The Asylum?).
Rudy Ray Moore shows up as Dolemite, and yes, he does tell Sugar Bear to “Put your weight on it,
put your weight on it, put your weight on it!”, but the cameo by pro wrestler and best-selling author
Mick Foley disappoints. Foley is a charismic personality, but
his “Cactus Sac” felt more forced than fun. Too bad, cuz Foley
deserves better -- check out the Special Side Bar reviewing
Foley's Have a Nice Day.
So while the film gets lazy in parts – there are recurring gags
about the script or the film’s budget, and nearly everyone mugs
the camera at some point – Big Money Hustlas is still lots of
fun. Big Baby Sweets spends the entire movie channeling
every villain to appear on the ‘60s “Batman” TV show… and I
mean that as a complement. Sugar Bear is just off-beat
enough of a throwback hero to keep him from being completely
predictable. And the twists at the end are appropriately
outlandish.
Long story short, this is a pretty good stupid movie to kick back
with some brews to… even if you’re not a juggalo.
(Which I clearly am not.)
his “Cactus Sac” felt more forced than fun. Too bad, cuz Foley
deserves better -- check out the Special Side Bar reviewing
Foley's Have a Nice Day.
So while the film gets lazy in parts – there are recurring gags
about the script or the film’s budget, and nearly everyone mugs
the camera at some point – Big Money Hustlas is still lots of
fun. Big Baby Sweets spends the entire movie channeling
every villain to appear on the ‘60s “Batman” TV show… and I
mean that as a complement. Sugar Bear is just off-beat
enough of a throwback hero to keep him from being completely
predictable. And the twists at the end are appropriately
outlandish.
Long story short, this is a pretty good stupid movie to kick back
with some brews to… even if you’re not a juggalo.
(Which I clearly am not.)
| Mick Foley (above), sadly misused in this film. |
| Are You a TRUE Juggalo Your Result: Almost.. but keep tryin'. You just need to learn more.. Youre a fan, but not quite yet a Juggalo. Keep trying and one day you might understand the Dark Canival and get to enjoy Faygo like a Juggalo does. | |
| At least you tried.. | |
| DowN wIT dA KloWn tiLL YoU dEAd iN Da GRoUnd! | |
| Juggahoe Alert!! Load your glocks!! | |
| Are You a TRUE Juggalo Quiz Created on GoToQuiz | |
W It would be tempting to see that pro wrestler Mick Foley's Have a Nice Day: A Tale of Blood and Sweatsocks is a New York Times best-seller and dismiss it as just the fans buying up books. Truth is, this book deserves the accolades. In Have a Nice Day, Mick Foley (a.k.a. Cactus Jack, a.k.a. Dude Love, a.k.a. Mankind) tells the story of how he worked his way up the ranks to become a WWE main-eventer. It's not the path you'd expect, particularly coming from a guy who doesn't exactly fit the mold of what one imagines when they think of a pro wrestler. As a result, his journey feels more like a career as a carnival performer than a combatant, a true labor of love (blood and sweat indeed -- check out the back cover to see what I mean). Foley does indeed tell the story himself -- no ghostwriter here -- giving his tale the feel of a guy telling a story at the bar. And while the last section of the books begins to grind into "and then I had a match with so-and-so here, and the I had a match with so-and-so there" repetitiveness, the man can spin a yarn. I know what you're thinking: What? No jokes? No joke: This is a really good read. |
| HAVE A NICE DAY BOOK REVIEW A SPECIAL SIDE BAR BY NOLAHN |