Fromage Fridays #11: Poolboy

Screw you, Hercules!



Recently,  I expressed disappointment in Kel Mitchell for the role that he had in bringing the film, “Dance Fu” to life. For this I would like to apologize, for while he may have created an annoying and mildly offensive comedy that wasn't funny, he didn't make “Poolboy: Drowning Out the Fury.”

This film presents itself in a metafictional fashion, claiming to be a commentary on a 1990 film so terrible that it was never released. Within its own universe, “Poolboy” was directed by the then 10-year-old director Saint James St. James (and no, that is St. as in street, not Saint)-played by the film’s writer Ross Patterson-, starring a Vietnam War veteran nicknamed “Poolboy” played by yet another 90s icon, Kevin Sorbo of “Hercules” fame, after starting a pool cleaning business upon returning home. Enraged by the murder of his wife by the Mexican that he’s stolen business from, Poolboy goes on a rampage to rid his neighborhood of Mexicans so that he can live his life and do his job in peace. Along the way, he faces opposition from a Mexican pool cleaning service run by Danny Trejo.

Let that synopsis the several different varieties of wrong that it constitutes sink in.

I almost have to give the makers of this film credit for having the gall to create something this blatantly offensive. The movie makes a poor attempt at being self aware of its own offensive nature, with commentary by St. James claiming that he doesn't quite understand why the film was never released. However this does nothing to change the fact that the film disturbingly campaigns against a race of people and perpetuates their stereotypes for cheap gags that don’t work, while also getting plenty of digs at Blacks and Asians.

There’s a commonly accepted fact among critics that if you’re going to tell an offensive or raunchy joke, it has to be funny enough to make up for just how offensive it is. “Poolboy” rarely even delivers a punch line with its jokes, let alone justify how disgusting they are.

This isn't quite the offensiveness one would expect when racial humor is involved however. It's very clear that the film wants to take a jab at itself and its stereotypes but is so lazy that it can't even follow through on them properly, once again making the mistake of thinking that self-awareness is funny, rather than being both self-aware and clever. The end result is a constant sensation of discomfort that lasts for nearly an hour and a half.

Even worse, I must extend my disappointment to a lot of names that should have known better, not the least of which are, Jason Mewes, Mark Curry, and even Ahmed Best, who really shouldn't be looking at these kind of things with the role of Jar Jar Binks on his IMDB page.

I would say the same of Trejo but he may have been the only shining light in this atrocity. He’s genuinely imposing, his energy is infectious and his charisma even sells a few rather awkward jokes.

Sadly, Trejo’s effort doesn't change “Poolboy: Drowning Out the Fury’s” status as one of the worst films that I have had the “pleasure” of sitting through.

No Shatners

Bottom Line: Watching "Poolboy" ill and with a sore throat, I somehow managed the strength to yell at the screen and force myself back from breaking my television in sheer disgust.