A Friend With Gold Is the Best I'm Told

Leprechaun (1993) featuring Warwick Davis

This week marked the 20th anniversary of the cult classic horror movie, Leprechaun, starring Warwick Davis, as the title character, and Jennifer Aniston, as the female protagonist. Although it was an eye-bleedingly terrible film, with dialog and plot so inept that they verge on madness-inducing, it spawned a franchise of six movies, albeit mostly direct-to-video, with talks in the works to launch a theatrical reboot.

Now, there are some notable, even positive, aspects to the Leprechaun movies. First, Warwick Davis really gives the little green sociopath a distinct personality, a style unique to the slasher genre, with a cheesy but creepy mix of humor and malevolence. Another praiseworthy element is the make-up that transforms the rather nonthreatening features of Davis into the otherworldly malice of the Leprechaun. It's an interesting blend. ;-)

And, of course, it's awesome to remember that this was Jennifer Aniston's first significant theatrical role, before Friends, when she became "America's sweetheart" and influenced hairstyles. After starring in this clunker of a movie, Aniston must have found herself a four-leaf clover indeed; other aspiring actresses have found their careers derailed by such a memorable stinker.

Detail from Leprechaun (1993) theatrical poster

While I don't mean to offend the fans of this franchise, I have to say that this movie and those that followed it, even with the quotable lines and Davis' unique charm, were abominable. Really, death by pogo stick, journeying into space, killer go-karts, these movies dredge up the bottom of horrific absurdity. Sometimes I think that they are so bad that they become good. . .

But, no, they're just really, really bad. And, therefore, Leprechaun and his pot o' gold go into my Hall of Shame!!!

Introducing the Paideia Hall of Shame

Shaquille O'Neal in Kazaam

After writing last night's diatribe concerning the Captain America-Dunkin' Donuts promotion, I started thinking that I ought to create a special list of notable Crimes Against Good Taste. This list would not deal with forgettable crassness or momentary stupidity. It would be limited to those works of popular culture that transcended the quotidian level of banality. These Exemplars of the Awful would have had to stand the test of time as a lasting disgrace.

So, what atrocity would be the first into the Paideia Hall of Shame? I did my normal search in five year increments back from 2001 and soon found out that the abominable cinematic flop, Kazaam, was released fifteen years ago. So mighty is the wretchedness of this movie, that the mere thought of it made me recoil in disgust.

Although I'm a Laker fan, I never really warmed to Shaquille O'Neal even when he was bringing in the Titles for the city. And I believe that it is this monstrosity of a movie that influenced my unfriendly disposition to him.

And I'm far from unique in despising this film. It holds a miserable 4% at Rotten Tomatoes. Therefore, for Crimes Against Good Taste, I consign Shaquille O'Neal and Kazaam to the Paideia Hall of Shame!