Dust and Bones
Dickerson
digs up an undead Snoop Dogg and every horror cliché
he can find.
If
you're looking to see Snoop Dogg kick some boo-tay as an undead drug dealer with lycanthropic
tendencies in Ernest Dickerson's new horror movie Bones, you'll
have to wait at least an hour before the dead guy's body gets up and about
again. And when it finally does happen, the killings are often abrupt and
sudden, symptomatic of the movie itself. Full of fits and starts, it never
really gets going, stalling at every turn without even giving us enough of what
we paid to see -- Snoop Dogg and gore.
Things start out promisingly enough, as green filters cover the camera lens and two dopey
rich white guys with cell phones find themselves on the bum end of a drug deal
gone wrong. Trapped in the 'hood, they run toward a house that looks a lot like
He-Man's Castle Grayskull on the outside and the
house from the opening sequence of Tales From the
Crypt on the inside. (Dickerson previously directed Tales From the Crypt Presents: Demon Knight, a funnier and
scarier romp that ended with a Snoop look-alike in black trenchcoat
and fedora strolling off across the desert; Bones could almost be its
sequel.)
It's clear this house isn't
going to provide sanctuary. It scares cops away and proves to be the residence
of a big black dog with glowing red eyes, not to mention Snoop-shaped shadows
that creep along the walls. The unfortunate twosome are soon rendered gushing
torrents of blood, and the film flashes back to 1979 and what appears to be a
Spike Lee Joint, complete with titles that even recall Lee, for whom Dickerson
was cinematographer for a decade. We roll down the same street in sunshine with
Jimmy Bones (Snoop Dogg), a high roller who may be a
pimp or a drug dealer (it's never made entirely clear, presumably to maintain a
semblance of sympathy for the character). By the time the overlong credits
finally end, we've moved up to the present day again; Castle Grayskull, we discover, is Jimmy Bones' crib, and something
bad happened there. Enter the obligatory stupid kids, who insist on messing
around with the most obviously haunted spot in the entire neighborhood.
You've got to feel for kids too
dim to realize that a house infested with flies, containing a corpse in the
basement and guarded by a large angry dog is not the perfect place to build
their new nightclub. Yet despite warnings from Pam Grier, as the
run-of-the-mill neighborhood psychic nutball, the trio of clowns build their club and take the black dog home
as a pet, where they feed it raw steak. They even sleep in their newfound digs,
despite disturbing dreams of hell and blood and so forth. Female lead Bianca
Lawson has a very convincing dream in which she's raped, yet comes back a
couple of days later. (The whole rape sequence makes no sense, given that Bones
was obviously her father and has no reason to do that, but whatever.)
The screenplay borrows every
trick from the '80s horror playbook. Jimmy Bones, like Freddy Krueger, visits
the dreams of the children of those who murdered him. Like the stepfather in Hellraiser, he can be revived by absorbing the blood
of his victims (it bears mentioning how fake the blood looks, which is much
more '70s). Like the Crow, he's a man done wrong who returns for vengeance with
an animal spirit guide. Like Darth Vader, he's the father of one of our heroes
(the film treats this revelation as a surprise, though it's obvious as soon as
the characters appear onscreen). There are also more recent rip-offs: one from The
Matrix and one straight out of Scary Movie, in which a severed head
continues to make sarcastic wisecracks.
Bones should be much better than it is. Demon
Knight is an underrated cult classic, and co-scribe Adam Simon is
responsible for the deliriously weird Roger Corman
productions Brain Dead and Carnosaur.
And Snoop Dogg has commanding screen presence. He
shined in John Singleton's Baby Boy and exhibited similar charisma in Training
Day; as a rapper, he's a superior movie star-in-the-making. Sadly, Jimmy
Bones in flashbacks feels like Snoop playing dress-up; as a ghost, he isn't
given enough to do. It doesn't help that the soundtrack is loaded with Snoop
songs in which he name-checks himself numerous times,
which kills that whole suspension of disbelief thing. (It's reminiscent of the
film Gridlock'd, in which Tupac
Shakur's character sports tattoos that clearly read,
"2Pac.")
Early on, Pam Grier utters the
suggestive line, "Some holes can't be filled, and some hungers can't be
satisfied." If your hunger is for good ghost stories, she's absolutely
right. There still may be a great urban horror movie to be made -- say, a Candyman that doesn't depend on a white protagonist.
This just isn't it.