I won’t even get into Ghost Rider: Spirit of Vengeance. Nick Cage is just like he is. The flaming skull kinda looks cool, but it ends there. Johnny Blaze was and is a tool. The villains are impossibly lame.
The most entertaining part was watching the schmucks that made and acted in this movie talk about The Process in the “Upcoming: Ghost Rider: Spirit of Vengeance” pre-movie time filler.
You would think they were putting on the greatest ever stage production of The Crucible, complete with real witches and time travel and ‘splosions. Lots and lots of ‘splosions.
This kind of talk is tragic. It is utter douchery at its highest form. When people and industry become so full of themselves that it is indistinguishable from satire.
How can you not laugh at that. This is a sequel movie about a motorcycle-riding, flaming skeleton from Hell that has a soft side and is played by Nick Cage in his casual Friday outfit.
But then the horror dawns on me. This is exactly why we can’t have nice things…err, nice movies. The people behind Ghost Rider: Spirit of Vengeance are peacock proud.
Not the pride of people who accomplished something. Anything. Making a movie is fucking hard work. No matter how bad it is, if you slaved over it, you should be proud (mostly, I could name names…)
But a bucket of snouts is a bucket of snouts, dammit. Not that a bucket ‘o snouts in the right setting, prepared correctly and with unlimited wet wipes can’t be good, dirty fun. It can. It should be. Otherwise what’s the point of you carrying around that fly-infested bucket?
Look, the movie is slick. It has Solid Production Value. It has names attached. Just like every other big movie these days. What it does not have is soul. It may be the spirit of vengeance, you see, but that demon eats souls. The soul of this movie as well as everyone and everything to do with it.
I suppose, if you are that particular few Ghost Rider fans, this tickles some fancy. Otherwise, it is just another in a growing list of very purty films that nobody cared about. Part of a machine that grinds money from product. Hey, man, these are SOLID products. They just aren’t special. In any way that matters.
If those movie makers don’t understand the love, the whys and the wherefore of watching crappy horror movies, what hope do we film lovers have?
I whine needlessly, of course. There have never been more and better options for genre fans than right this minute.
BACK TO THE RANT!
Step 1 is admitting you are not Henry Miller, Hollywood Stoogebags.
Step 2 is something less stodgy.