The Horrible Doctor Bones (2000)

I’ll resist the urge to make a pun about how “horrible” this film is — although it is pretty bad. I hesitate to call the script a “script.” It’s more like two or three plot points jotted down on a napkin, padded out with musical numbers. That’s right; I said musical numbers. Even with about 15 minutes of rap, R&B and dancehall performances, The Horrible Doctor Bones still clocks in at barely 70 minutes (including credits). What story there is, goes like this: Our heroes, the struggling band Urban Protectors, win a talent contest (thus the musical padding) held by radio DJ Doctor Bones (Darrow Igus).

But it turns out that the good doctor wants to use their music to mask his subliminal mumbo-jumbo spell chanting that will turn whoever hears it into a mindless zombie. Or something like that. I wasn’t really paying attention. I’m beginning to suspect he isn’t medically licensed. Why couldn’t the subliminal spell work with other music? Why did he have to mask his spell anyway? Why am I still watching this movie? There’s little gore, no nudity, laughable special effects, and surprisingly few zombies. The only saving grace is Bones himself, who lends a fairly unique and memorable witch doctor persona to a genre that values stylish baddies. And Igus, who has had roles in The Fog, Car Wash and, er, B*A*P*S, has a striking presence — like a dignified, aging pimp — that makes you wish he were in a better film.

Apparently, The Vagina Monologues has a house band.
9 out of 10 Satanic dentists agree.
This is an actual special effect from the movie. Really.
Yes, REALLY.
“Hold up. Is that my cellphone?”

What do you think?