Judge David Johnson is a Rad Man. At least that's what he tells himself every morning in the mirror.
Rad to the bone.
"Rad to the bone." Is there anything else you need to know? That moronic tagline pretty much encapsulates the aggressive lameness of this low-rent Jackass knock-off. The Rad Girls are "Darling Clementine," "Munchie" and "Ramona Cash;" names more associated with members from a rap-metal group or the star lineup of a lower-tier adult film production company. Throughout the course of each episode, the Rad Girls engage in a selection of stunts and dares (preceded of course by the obligatory "Hey idiot, don't do these things you're about to see, they're dangerous" warning), and they seem to be a whole lot more amused by what they're doing than I was.
The similarities to Jackass are blatant; from the shaky, handheld camera operation, to the titles of the gags popping up prior to the mayhem to the general feel of the whole thing. It's Jackass with girls. Except a whole lot more awful.
Where Jackass had memorable characters engaging in stupidity, the Rad Girls are annoying and unfunny. One of their bits is singing an "offensive" song at an open mic night (we know it's offensive because they take every opportunity to tell us how offensive it is), but the song is essentially a string of broad ethnic stereotypes. Neither funny, nor shocking. Also, it doesn't help the Rad Girls' stock that the opening of the show, featuring the Rad Girls dancing and making dope faces at the camera, is excruciatingly corny. These openers irritated me so much, I was soured to whatever stunt was coming up.
Not that I would have been transfixed, even if I was juiced up on muscle relaxant and Skittles. The hard truth is, these segments are flat and dumb and derivative. The only stuff that's halfway entertaining- like eating disgusting stuff, getting maced and tazered and even stung with a cattle prod- has all been done before. The original material is so inane, it's laughable. For example, the Rad Girls do the following: 1) slap each other with vegetables; 2) eat old gum stuck under park benches; 3) go wake-boarding in allegedly alligator-infested water though we never see any alligators; 4) go bull-riding for a half a second and never go try it again; 5) box a 12 year-old boy (?). And, my personal (least) favorite, the "Sand Monster," where one of the Rad Girls buries herself in sand and then pops up to presumably scare unaware passersby; though no one ever gets scared and instead just walk away, glaring or avoiding eye contact, which, incidentally, was my exact same response to this miserable experience.
If this is a journey you're intent on embarking upon—perhaps you're simply desperate to watch someone, anyone, drink a foul liquid in front of a camera—this two-disc set brings eight episodes in 1.78:1 anamorphic widescreen, with a modest array of extras: text bios, deleted "banned from TV" scenes and a still gallery.
What's the opposite of "rad" in the vernacular all the young kids
are using these days? Ah, yes—"square."
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