machete squad hq

Bio-Dome…  There was a time when I actually found this shameful and tear-inducing piece of Hollywood culture endearing.  For that you should probably lose any respect for what I have to say but keep in mind I was in middle school and was still listening to Korn.  I wasn’t the well-adjusted gentleman before you today.

Where do you even start with something this pathetic?  I guess the beginning would be the most logical.

The year was 1996 and for reasons that still aren’t entirely clear, Pauly Shore was still considered a celebrity.  The wonderful people at MGM in their infinite wisdom decided to ignore the heinous human rights violations of In the Army Now and Jury Duty and gave Pauly Shore another starring vehicle – and shockingly, some people are surprised that MGM is bankrupt – with Stephen Baldwin and a script that couldn’t have been more than fifteen pages long.

We have the biosphere project... and Pauly Shore. Not impressed? Well chew on this, Stephen Baldwin is tentatively attached.

The movie basically follows two generic slacker stoner types – you can tell because one has dreadlocks and they both wear loud and ill fitting clothing – who mistake a biosphere for a mall and wind up fucking up every possible aspect of William Atherton and the rest of the cast’s lives.  Hilarity does not ensue.  Every scene in this movie deteriorates to Bud and Doyle, our heroes (Baldwin and Shore), annoying the shit out of either their co-workers, their girlfriends, or other miscellaneous cast members until they start making strange noises, run into walls or dance like douchebags while one of the worst musical scores I’ve ever heard obnoxiously blasts through the speakers.  It’s subtle, I know.

What's an obnoxious movie without some misogyny sprinkled in?

The idea of star-vehicles is attractive in some cases, I realize this.  However, I just can’t wrap my head around how any decent person could write a check for 15 million dollars, the film’s budget, to make this thing a reality.  The amount of coke and vodka the cast and crew consumed alone must’ve accounted for at least 30% of the budget with the other 11.5 million likely going towards stomach pumps for Stephen Baldwin and ADR for Pauly Shore’s incomprehensible babbling during the numerous awkward dancing sequences.

This monstrosity of media history is part of what I have dubbed “The Dane Cook Syndrome”.  Sometimes, as consumers, we are a fickle and bizarre bunch.  We find Dane Cook amusing enough to make his albums go platinum, land him plush representation, and indirectly allow for him to make out with Jessica Simpson for a dozen takes.  It’s illogical but we really are the ones to blame not the money men who are simply making the logical and economical move.  Sometimes media producers have their hearts in the right place and want to please the customer base but they just don’t trust their own instincts.  They think the consumers know what’s best for them, which is often true, but in cases like this….  they simply don’t.  Maybe Pauly Shore was great as an MTV VJ and maybe Encino Man was surprisingly enjoyable but the fact is that his sludge like delivery and doofy dance moves cannot translate to a 90 minute film.  Especially one with a narrative so insultingly absurd.

We just didn't know....

So I’ll conclude this by offering up a challenge and an anecdote.  I tried to watch this recently with some buddies of mine after reminiscing about our completely unfounded nostalgia for it and we made it 14 minutes into the movie before we were too embarrassed to look at one another.  If you can excuse the telegraphed dialogue, the fact that every intended joke is a miss, and that absolutely nothing that is intended to be funny actually is, then we have very little to talk about because I hate you.