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Bad Ass
(Craig Moss, 2012)
Never mess with a man wearing a fanny pack, especially when that man is Danny Trejo. That's the lesson two skinheads on a city bus learn after instigating Trejo into stomping a mud hole in their asses. When the altercation is captured on a cell phone video and uploaded to YouTube, Trejo's character, Frank Vega, becomes an internet celebrity. The public's new moniker for him: Bad Ass. Compared to the humdrum existence that Vega is used to living as a hotdog vendor, fifteen minutes of fame and all the perks that come with it is a welcome change of pace. Unfortunately for Vega, misfortune has a tendency of trailing close behind, so it isn't long before Vega's best friend is shot dead by two thugs in search of a flash drive containing classified information. After some incredibly shoddy police work, Vega morphs into a Mexican Charles Bronson, leaving a trail of blood, broken teeth and busted knuckles on his violent path to retribution.
I enjoyed Bad Ass as a direct-to-video, senior-citizen throwback to the vigilante films of yesteryear. Action is simple but plentiful. One-liners and tongue-in-cheek humor elicit groans and laughs in equal measure. (The biggest laugh-out-loud moment for me occurred after Vega dives onto an elderly lady to save her from gunfire, then asks if she's okay, to which she replies, "Terrific! I haven't been handled by a man like that in forty-five years!") In reference to the cast, there's a lot of "Where have I seen him before?" and "Oh, it's that dude from that one movie." (Case in point: the pawn-shop owner from Pulp Fiction appearing briefly as (what else?) a pawn-shop owner.) Ron Perlman plays an evil mayor, but sadly audiences are denied an opportunity to see Hellboy and Machete throw hands. A large percentage of the small budget seems to have gone into the overblown climax that features two city buses wreaking havoc, and which reminded me of another overblown climax featured on Trejo's resume: the action-classic and personal favorite, Con Air. When Trejo isn't punching people in the face and using garbage disposal units to dismember thugs, he's striking up a relationship with an attractive next-door neighbor and her foul-mouthed son. I always welcome the opportunity to see Danny Trejo play against type, so it was fun watching him exhibit the natural charm beneath his rough exterior as he attempts to get his mack on while dressed in a disco-era suit from Goodwill.
I learned afterwards that Bad Ass was inspired by a viral video of a white sixty-seven-year-old Vietnam vet, dubbed "Epic Beard Man," beating up a black man who keeps threatening him on a city bus. (Click here for the YouTube video.) To avoid any unintentional racial subtext, the film has the good sense to change the instigators in the film to Nazi skinheads, and Trejo's character initially draws their ire by standing up for a black passenger. Trejo is dressed identically to "Epic Beard Man:" same hat, same fanny pack, same blue "I AM A MOTHERF**KER" t-shirt. (I love that the director gives us a suiting-up montage at one point, complete with slow-motion walk and "I'm a Bad Ass" theme song. Never before have cargo shorts and mow-the-lawn Nikes looked so effing cool.) I already enjoyed Bad Ass enough to give it a positive rating despite its flaws, but learning of the inspiration behind the film suddenly opened my eyes to numerous inside jokes sprinkled throughout, such as the neighbor named Amber Lamps, a reference to the memes mocking the black man's pronunciation of "ambulance" at the end of the viral video.
Given its origins, its budget, its clichèd plot, and the director's track record of sh*tty parody films with sh*tty titles, Bad Ass is about as good of a film as it was capable of being. I'm legit looking forward to the sequels.
Bad Ass
(Craig Moss, 2012)
Never mess with a man wearing a fanny pack, especially when that man is Danny Trejo. That's the lesson two skinheads on a city bus learn after instigating Trejo into stomping a mud hole in their asses. When the altercation is captured on a cell phone video and uploaded to YouTube, Trejo's character, Frank Vega, becomes an internet celebrity. The public's new moniker for him: Bad Ass. Compared to the humdrum existence that Vega is used to living as a hotdog vendor, fifteen minutes of fame and all the perks that come with it is a welcome change of pace. Unfortunately for Vega, misfortune has a tendency of trailing close behind, so it isn't long before Vega's best friend is shot dead by two thugs in search of a flash drive containing classified information. After some incredibly shoddy police work, Vega morphs into a Mexican Charles Bronson, leaving a trail of blood, broken teeth and busted knuckles on his violent path to retribution.
I enjoyed Bad Ass as a direct-to-video, senior-citizen throwback to the vigilante films of yesteryear. Action is simple but plentiful. One-liners and tongue-in-cheek humor elicit groans and laughs in equal measure. (The biggest laugh-out-loud moment for me occurred after Vega dives onto an elderly lady to save her from gunfire, then asks if she's okay, to which she replies, "Terrific! I haven't been handled by a man like that in forty-five years!") In reference to the cast, there's a lot of "Where have I seen him before?" and "Oh, it's that dude from that one movie." (Case in point: the pawn-shop owner from Pulp Fiction appearing briefly as (what else?) a pawn-shop owner.) Ron Perlman plays an evil mayor, but sadly audiences are denied an opportunity to see Hellboy and Machete throw hands. A large percentage of the small budget seems to have gone into the overblown climax that features two city buses wreaking havoc, and which reminded me of another overblown climax featured on Trejo's resume: the action-classic and personal favorite, Con Air. When Trejo isn't punching people in the face and using garbage disposal units to dismember thugs, he's striking up a relationship with an attractive next-door neighbor and her foul-mouthed son. I always welcome the opportunity to see Danny Trejo play against type, so it was fun watching him exhibit the natural charm beneath his rough exterior as he attempts to get his mack on while dressed in a disco-era suit from Goodwill.
I learned afterwards that Bad Ass was inspired by a viral video of a white sixty-seven-year-old Vietnam vet, dubbed "Epic Beard Man," beating up a black man who keeps threatening him on a city bus. (Click here for the YouTube video.) To avoid any unintentional racial subtext, the film has the good sense to change the instigators in the film to Nazi skinheads, and Trejo's character initially draws their ire by standing up for a black passenger. Trejo is dressed identically to "Epic Beard Man:" same hat, same fanny pack, same blue "I AM A MOTHERF**KER" t-shirt. (I love that the director gives us a suiting-up montage at one point, complete with slow-motion walk and "I'm a Bad Ass" theme song. Never before have cargo shorts and mow-the-lawn Nikes looked so effing cool.) I already enjoyed Bad Ass enough to give it a positive rating despite its flaws, but learning of the inspiration behind the film suddenly opened my eyes to numerous inside jokes sprinkled throughout, such as the neighbor named Amber Lamps, a reference to the memes mocking the black man's pronunciation of "ambulance" at the end of the viral video.
Given its origins, its budget, its clichèd plot, and the director's track record of sh*tty parody films with sh*tty titles, Bad Ass is about as good of a film as it was capable of being. I'm legit looking forward to the sequels.