Judge Patrick Bromley has learned from Tila Tequila and will not be appearing at the next Gathering of the Juggalos.
The good, the bad, and the outrageous!
I'll say this about the 2010 direct-to-DVD release Big Money Rustlas: at least someone had the good sense to suggest that a movie starring two grown men who wear greasepaint and sing terrible rap songs filled with f-words and a little boy's fear of the world and who willingly call themselves the Insane Clown Posse ought to be a comedy. It's not a "funny" movie by any stretch of the imagination, but the fact that it even tries tells me that at least one person behind the scenes has a sense of self-awareness. Maybe it was the Insane Clown Posse themselves, though I would argue that self-awareness does not appear to be the strong suit of a two men who dress up like clowns and swear to music.
It's difficult to talk about Big Money Rustlas without criticizing the entire Insane Clown Posse enterprise—and it is an enterprise, with the clowny pair pushing everything from "music" to clothing lines to energy drinks to wrestling leagues to their own three-day concert/rapefest called "The Gathering of the Juggalos." Because the adult fans who are adults but still like the Insane Clown Posse allow themselves to be called "juggalos" on purpose. But to attack the entire phenomenon based on a single movie isn't really fair; it would be like using a review of a Dwayne "The Rock" Johnson to critique all of professional wrestling. Except that Dwayne Johnson's movies appear to be made for a large audience and Big Money Rustlas is clearly made for no one save for "juggalos," so the comparison doesn't really work but you get the idea. What I'm trying to say is that I should do my best to avoid taking shots at Insane Clown Posse fans. Because they scare me.
So, Big Money Rustlas is apparently a prequel to the 2000 ICP movie Big Money Hustlas, which is clever because the words rhyme. And rhyming is part of rapping, and rapping is what Insane Clowns do. Some internet research tells me that the plots are basically the same: one Insane Clown named Violent J plays Big Baby Chips, the Old West equivalent of the most powerful gangster in town. The other Insane Clown who is a grown man that asks to be called Shaggy 2 Dope plays Sheriff Sugar Wolf, the hero of the movie who is bent on taking down Big Baby Chips. You know the movie is going to be very, very funny when you hear the comical names of the characters (not the rappers playing those characters; their names are comical but I think are supposed to be cool). Also when the characters are wearing clown makeup. But that's pretty much the plot of the movie. There are some other characters, played by actors with names like Boondox and Blaze Ya Dead Homie and Monoxide, because those are names that people should have. Blaze Ya Dead Homie is my favorite, because it's what I almost named my own son. But, seriously. A four-word name? Talk about pretentious. There are also a number of "celebrity" cameos (I use the word loosely, like when I call Insane Clown Posse "musicians" or Big Money Rustlas a "movie") from C-grade stars like Dustin Diamond, Ron Jeremy, Tom Sizemore and Jason Mewes, who for some reason chose to appear in Big Money Rustlas after he got off drugs. At least Tom Sizemore has an excuse.
What else can I say about this? It's not a movie. It's a 90-minute wankfest for Juggalos, who will laugh every time one of their heroes drops and f-bomb or shoots somebody or hooks up with a girl dying to get on some clown. Because what the movie is essentially about is how much more awesome the two guys in clown makeup are than anyone else they encounter. That's the movie's worldview: women are objects, and anyone not wearing clown makeup should hand over their money and then be killed, presumably for not wearing clown makeup. Or maybe because they're "insane." The Rational Clown Posse would never act that way.
There is one halfway decent joke in the movie. Sheriff Sugar Wolf's mom (I feel stupider every time I type it, like I should be drinking a Mountain Dew and watching Spike TV) also wears clown makeup, which isn't really called attention to but at least suggests that clowiness is hereditary. Again, it's hardly funny at all, but does demonstrate a modicum of self-awareness.
Big Money Rustlas arrives on DVD courtesy of Vivendi with a good 1.78:1 anamorphic widescreen transfer. The movie appears to have been shot on video, which already gives it an advantage, but the picture is bright and clean and free of any flaws or defects, unless you count the two douchebags in clown makeup. And pretty much everyone else in the movie. The 5.1 audio track is serviceable, but this isn't really a movie about anything more than terrible dialogue overacted by amateur rappers and wrestlers. The Insane Clown Posse provide a commentary track, which is even harder to sit through than the movie; it's obnoxious and self-contratulatory and occasionally hateful—everything we've come to expect from the pioneers of clown rap. Director Paul Andresen and Mark Jury (who plays the part of Dirty Sanchez, hee hee hee) also sit down for a commentary which is a bit more substantial and discusses the making of the movie. Both tracks, like the movie itself, are only for the most devoted of Juggalos. There's a quote for the DVD jacket.
Also included is a featurette about the movie's premiere (basically just a video interview with fans waiting in line, many of whom are also wearing clown makeup because that's how you show that you like something), a slideshow of production photos and some music videos from ICP and Twiztid.
Big Money Rustlas isn't for fans of westerns or comedies or even of movies. It's for fans of Insane Clown Posse. They're likely to eat it up. No one else should ever waste their time on it. There's already enough ugliness in the world without supporting juvenile, stupid, hateful garbage like the ICP.
I died inside.
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Studio: Vivendi Visual Entertainment
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