Netflix Review - Ghost Rider (2007)

What should we do with Nick's hair?

...this sounds about right.

I actually saw this about a week ago. I’ve since been to church, therapy, and to visit the grilled cheese sandwich that looks like Jesus, located in Oklahoma (where else would it be?).


Ghost Rider

Suggested Netflix Queue Position: How Many Movies does Netflix Carry? Take that number and add 1.

I tried to get out of this. I pleaded with Foley and Moxon. We drew straws, we flipped coins, played rock/paper/scissors – hell, I even threatened to quit the blog. None of it worked – I was the one chosen to review Ghost Rider, the film version of the comic book of the same name.

I actually saw this about a week ago. I’ve since been to church, to therapy, and even to visit the grilled cheese sandwich that looks like Jesus, located in Oklahoma (where else would it be?).

If it sounds like I’m exaggerating, then you need to watch Ghost Rider. The “film” stars Nick “Call me Cage” Coppola, as a motorcycle daredevil who makes a pact with the devil to save his father, only to realize he got more than he bargained for.

Nick stars as Johnny Blaze, a budding stunt rider who works alongside his Dad in a circus. Johnny’s dad has developed lung cancer through years of smoking – a fact Johnny discovers as he’s rummaging through the garbage in their trailer, coming upon a form letter informing the senior Blaze he has cancer. Is that how it works? Really? What kind of bastard doctor sends cancer notification form letters to his patients? Dr. Kevorkian? I guess it wouldn’t have dawned on Johnny otherwise, having watched his dad hack and wheeze his way through several conversations.

The devil, played by – you’re not going to believe this – Peter Fonda, shows up and offers Johnny what he truly wants: to cure his dad of cancer. All it costs is his soul. Johnny is about to sign the pact when his finger is pricked accidentally, spilling his blood on the contract. That’s good enough, according to the devil. I guess we’re now supposed to sympathize with Johnny because he inadvertently signed the pact, but he was about to anyway. Whatever.

One of the true accomplishments of this movie is the producers’ ability to locate Peter Fonda, who was probably cleaning ashtrays at the Golden Nugget Casino in Reno, the great scripts not exactly rolling in for the underachiever of the Fonda family.

That accomplishment was way more impressive than landing Sam Elliot – fresh off of blockbuster projects The Alibi, Avenger, and Barnyard. No, I’ve never heard of those, either. Not sure there’s any truth to the rumor that next to Elliot’s name in the movie’s budget was listed “Hand job and a sandwich.”

Capping off this incredible cast is Eva Mendes, who is so believable as a reporter you can’t stand it. I don’t know about you, but when I think of Eva Mendes, I think “journalist.” Let’s send her to Gaza right now. And yet, one can totally understand why she was cast in Ghost Rider. It’s not like she was competing against Judi Dench and Meryl Streep for this role. They needed a semi-recognizable hard body, and Mendes fits the bill. No danger of her bringing down the movie when it started there in the first place. She spends the movie with her cleavage busting out of her shirt, which I’m sure was accidental. On the surface, I’m not complaining. But cinematically that doesn’t do much for your career in the long run. But who are we kidding? Mendes won’t be playing Queen Victoria when she’s 50 or anything.

I’m not even going to go into the ridiculous plot details – why bother? Why trouble with telling you about how the motorcycle catches fire, burns miles of city street, can ride down the side of a skyscraper, and yet its tires don’t melt? Why go through the effort of telling you how Nick has to fight a crew of archangels in the form of Water, Dirt, and Air. What, did Earth, Wind & Fire threaten a lawsuit?

Why bother with telling you how, instead of drinking – like any self-respecting stunt rider would – Blaze instead eats jelly beans...from a freaking martini glass? Was that supposed to make me laugh? Intentionally, I mean? Or was the laughter supposed to come when I found out that Blaze listens to the Carpenters?

The writing is awful, but you knew that. But just so you’re thoroughly convinced, I’ll quote Blaze: “He may have my soul. But he doesn’t have my spirit.” I’m serious – that’s actually a line from the movie.

And of course, there’s Nick. Good old Nick. I’ve heard that his chest is CGI enhanced in this movie which, considering the magnitude to which your sensibilities are assaulted by the rest of the film, is perfectly plausible. And you know what? It’s OK. I’ll forgive him that, because he’s got bigger problems on his hands, like picking up his career after Next and whatever terrible script he’s about to choose.

And you know what’s really going to suck? I’ll have to review it.