Big Money Rustlas – 1 out of 5
I really feel that I need to add an additional disclaimer for this particular review because it is not going to be a nice one. I feel I need to provide not only a pre-emptive apology but also set up a basis for why this review is going to be so harsh. I also want to set this up because I think if this review ever saw the dual set of eyes from the Insane Clown Posse they would try to sue me.
Okay, first off, I’m sorry to all the ICP fans and Juggalos who are reading this. I’m not sorry you listen to bad music. Even though ICP’s “music” is awful, to say that to you would be mean of me (so, instead, I’ll say it in a passive-aggressive way that most Juggalos won’t notice because they're too busy being “creative”). I’m sorry for the possible anger and annoyance you’ll get from my hate I’m about to thrown on your Wicked Clowns’ movie. I would fear a slew of death threat emails from you (because Juggalos love to tell people they're going to kill the people who don’t like what they like for some reason) but since you think magnets operate by fucking miracles, I’m not too worried.
|Does Faygo whiskey taste like monkey piss like their soda?|
It should be known (and if you haven’t guessed it yet, you were probably one of those throwing your own feces at Tila Tequila ) I’m not a fan of the Insane Clown Posse. Other than the fact that their rhyming schemes are cheap (seriously, Dr. Seuss had more complicated rhymes and he made up most of his words), I can’t stand the childish subject matter of their music. I understand the appeal most Juggalos have because it isn’t easy living with your parents in the suburbs and you have a lot of angst to let out but why people beyond high school would listen to them and not utter the phrase, “This shit is ridiculous” is a larger mystery to me than why anyone would think that Violent J and Shaggy 2 Dope are actually a threat and have gansta cred. Seriously, the fat one looks like Jabba the Hutt with clown make-up on and after seeing the skinny one throw punches like he was afraid he was going to break a nail in this movie, the last semblance of them being tough guys is tossed out the window…but then again, calling two grown men in clown make-up singing about hating people who hate them and how they should be murdered for hating them (yeah, the irony is probably lost on them) tough is stretching the definition to limits it can’t take. In other words, calling ICP gansta would be a miracle. The same thing that gives Magneto his powers.
|Fucking captions...how do they work?|
So, needless to say, I walked into Big Money Rustlas with the already preconceived notion that I would absolutely hate the film. I tried my best to keep an open mind but there was literally no way for me to be unbiased with this one. In order for me to come at this one with windows clear would require some sort of…eh, I’ll save you from another “miracles” joke.
|A decent metaphor for the film brought to you by the makers of the film.|
By now you’re probably wondering why I would watch this movie when I can’t stand the Insane Clown Posse. And if you’re a Juggalo, you’re probably saying, “Fuck you, motherfucker. Wicked Clowns are going to rape your face and kill your cat while drinking Faygo out of your ass…” or something like that. Well, many fans of my reviews like to send me requests for movies and a friend and fellow comedian asked me to watch this one and review it. I thought it over and wondered if having to experience the 2nd ICP movie (yeah, they made one before this) would rob me entirely of my faith in humanity and my desire to see another sunrise but I was able to continue on with life after watching Avatar so maybe I can make it through Big Money Rustlas…
|The price for this review, Chad...rare Spanish treasure.|
Okay, so the movie is a Western and is your basic, run-of-the-mill, “let’s not do anything new or creative” story. A corrupt gun-slinger (Violent J aka the fat clown) takes over a town and a guy (Shaggy 2 Dope aka the skinny, weak one) who happens to be the faster draw in the West (but in this one, you never actually get to see this talent thanks to a shitty story, editing and the fact that Shaggy comes off as a pansy during the fight and gun sequences). Sheriff Sugar Wolf (the weak skinny clown) is out for revenge on Big Baby Chips (Jabba—Violent J) who killed his dad (Ron Jeremy) and his entire family in a town called Mud Bug; a village where dead careers apparently go to be buried…but more on that later.
|"Hey, I'm tough...look at my make-up."|
After sitting through almost 20 minutes of commercials for ICP products including (but not limited to) shoes, energy drinks, t-shirts and, if I remember correctly, tampons, I finally got to the movie. There was also a trailer for a documentary about the Juggalo events called The Gathering where tons of ICP fans gather to talk about their love of violent bad music and awful tasting generic soda they all buy because two guys in clown make-up told them to. Basically, this documentary would be a non-stop piece of propaganda trying to sell the idea that The Gatherings are NOT a collection of cult-like followers of ICP who engage in drug use, violence, destruction of property and sexual assaults on women (you know, all the things they have become known for) but rather a time of rainbows and sunshine coated in clown-themed grease paint.
|He ate the skinny one, right?|
Once you finally get through all the crap that ICP wants their
|A cameo from Dustin Diamond only helps my case of giving it a much deserved zero out of five.|
I’ll give the movie credit that it actually had a coherent (mostly) story and they actually used music that mostly made the film feel like a Western…however, you’re then forced to deal with the amount of
|First joke in the film is a man picking his nose...it's all downhill from there.|
Yep, a man picking his nose was the highpoint.
I honestly considered retiring from stand up comedy after watching this because if this movie can be called a comedy, why the fuck do I work so hard writing jokes when, apparently, all you need to get a Juggalo to laugh is drop some f-bombs, make up your own lingo like you’re a trailer park version of Snoop Dogg and show a guy picking his nose right before a scene calling a guy a “faggot” or having a character who is a racist stereotype of a Mexican named “Dirty Sanchez.”
|At this point, I was actually hoping for a immature dick or fart joke.|
I began to wonder if Juggalos just have their own unique sense of humor that is just too crappy for me to appreciate or if ICP thinks so little of their fans that they just said, “Screw it, they won’t know the difference” when they wrote the script (yeah, ICP literally wrote the script. I assume it was written in crayon or grease face paint). I’m not surprised, to be honest, that ICP can’t write a decent joke because they drink the shittiest generic soda to exist (forcing terrorists to drink Faygo at Guantanamo was deemed too inhumane), so one can’t account for taste with these guys. (There will soon be an email from a Juggalo who will tell me he wants to murder me for disrespecting Faygo.) To call what ICP wrote sophomoric jokes would be an insult to sophomoric jokes. To make my viewing of this film easier, I contemplated making fun of it as I watched it like I do with most bad movies but this film was so bad and its jokes so mind-numbingly terrible that I felt like if I did make fun of it, it would be like making fun of the handicap.
|See what happens when Silent Bob isn't around to give you work, Jay.|
You do a movie with the Insane Clown Posse.
Some might argue that these two men, behind the façade they try to cast of being thugs, are two brilliant brains that were intentionally trying to make an idiotic film. But if you listen to their music, you know that’s not true. Making ear-bleeding terrible entertainment just comes natural to them, so no mindfully moronic movie was made here. Something tells me they thought they were making something truly hilarious…just another dangerous side-effect of drinking Faygo—delusions of grandeur. Also, consuming Faygo causes obesity, risk of diabetes, increased heart-rate, thoughts of suicide and increased depression over the realization you are drinking Faygo.
And then there’s the cast…
|Scott Hall...from NWO to Who Gives a Fuck.|
No self-respecting actor would do this film (which is why Harland Williams did the first film—you’re a funny guy, Harland. Why? Because the check cleared, that’s why.) so ICP had to rely on their even shittier rappers they represent (Yeah, there’s worse out there. How? Miracles.), some pro-wrestlers past their prime and wrestling for ICP’s wrestling organization (Yeah, they have a wrestling organization and it proves that even the whitest of white trash can have their dreams come true) and actors who’s careers are dead…they just used an ICP movie to bury said careers. Actors like Todd Bridges, Dustin Diamond, Jason Mewes, Brigitte Nelson, Vanilla Ice, Jimmy Walker and Tom Sizemore.
|You hear that sound? It's the sound of Tom Sizemore's once great career being raped|
by the Wicked Clowns.
I know I’m being harsh on the Insane Clown Posse and just as harsh on the Juggalos but, let’s face it, they’re easy targets. I attack ICP for their “beyond the bottom of the barrel” jokes that fill their movie but I am guilty of going for the easy kill by making fun of a group of fans that, without any true intention on their part, paint a target on their back to receive Internet Hate. Making fun of Juggalos is easy—just as easy as making fun of Dane Cook or Nickelback. And with the creation of that awful song “Miracles,” ICP pretty much guaranteed that they will be an easy target for the rest of their careers…seriously, they are the elderly, wounded wildebeest of the Internet thanks to that song.
|Who would have thought a man who has sex on camera would find a non-sex role|
to be the most embarrassing thing he's ever done?
I have some friends who are fans of ICP and they’re not the usual “I’ll kill you for not conforming to my tastes even though I say I’m not a conformist but I do, say, act and drink what ICP tells me to” types. In fact, I have friends who are actually embarrassed of the actions of Juggalos (and who shouldn’t be…if I went to a Star Wars convention and all my fellow nerds started to toss turds like a bunch of monkeys, I would hang up my lightsaber). In the end, this movie wasn’t made for me, it was made for people who actually listen to ICP and say, “Yeah, this feeds my pointless anger I have towards my suburban parents and hardships I face like getting an iPhone 4 rather than a 5 and having to choose between getting an X-box 360 OR a PS3 so painting my face, drinking awful soda and saying I’m going to murder those who don’t agree with me will adequately shown my rebellion I so desperately want.” For everyone else, you’ll find yourself wishing for the sun to go supernova until the credits start rolling and you find yourself saying, “Let’s watch something greatly less shitty than this…how about that awful Avatar?”