Ghost Rider

By Mark Ramsey | 2007/02/19

Where can I begin but with Nick Cage’s hair? I haven’t been so distracted by something since I last saw Jodie Foster in a dress. It’s as if a stylist drizzled black tar on his head in a fit of desperation.

“I’ve always wanted Scott Baio’s scalp from Charles in Charge, and now I have it,” said Nick.

“My movie hair has its own agent,” he explained. “That’s why it’s able to stay in the public eye much more effectively than my real hair.”

ghostrider_fonda.jpgNick is easily ten years too old and ten times too bald for this role. He’s a daredevil, a biker who leaps tall helicopters in a single octane-fueled bound. And wouldn’t you know it, he also bounds over immense gaps in logic and good sense.

It’s great to see an Oscar-winning actor dive into the role of a biker with a temperature regulation problem. “Yet another thing that differentiates me from Ernest Borgnine,” said Nick.

Whatever variety of alcohol inspired Nick to do this movie I hope it never leaks into the LA county water system or none of us will see anything crazy about marrying Lisa Marie Presley or Patricia Arquette. And that would be too bad.

A whole different dude plays “young Nick,” and he looks so little like the real thing you might as well have Shrek or Donkey playing the role. “When I grow up, I am going to have a much longer face, a hangdog expression, and an unhealthy infatuation with Elvis Presley,” said a prescient Young Nick.

ghostrider_hair.jpgNick is Johnny Blaze, or as anyone who has seen this movie pronounces it, “Johnny Blasé.”

“I’m at the stage in my career,” explained Nick, “where every movie is a race to the cutout bin with Patrick Swayze.”

From out of the mist walks Wes Bentley from American Beauty in jet-black hair, eye-liner, and a dress. Are we supposed to be frightened or to cheer the arrival of a Cure tribute band?

“I don’t know what’s scarier, your flaming skull or the punch of your verbal clichés,” said Wes, Ghost Rider’s bad guy.

Peter Fonda, of the famed Fonda acting clan, is the devil. “My dad, Henry, was never proud of me,” said Peter, “but I’m sure Ghost Rider will change all that.”

“Then again,” he added, “maybe he’d be spinning in his grave if he weren’t so busy banging his head against the coffin lid.”

Young Nick signs away his soul to save his father’s life. Shouldn’t the Devil be the last person Nick trusts in a legal agreement?

“To you it’s Hell,” Satanic Peter tells him, “but Attorneys call it Heaven.”

Personally, I think Nick went to Hell the minute he signed on for this movie. “I would have signed for a sequel, but I couldn’t get my agent to stop laughing long enough,” said Nick.

When Nick’s head is aflame, his pimped out bike comes when he whistles for it. “And that’s more than I can say for Patricia or Lisa Marie,” he adds.

From the bowels of the Earth comes a rumble: “You are the rider, the Ghost Rider.” Is that an earthquake or did Sam Elliot just deliver a line of dialogue?

Sam’s role is to explain the whole point of this movie to any dog who can hear ultra-low frequencies.

Eva Mendes is Nick’s main squeeze: “My cleavage is on indefinite parole from every shirt in my closet,” she says.

If you’re venturing out to see Ghost Rider, I’ll offer this advice: You can only check your brain at the door if you have one to begin with.

Sam Elliot hikes his testicles off the floor long enough to cap off Ghost Rider with this profound lesson: “Any man who’s got the guts to sell his soul for love has the power to change the world.”

Um, okay.

I know he said it because there are wolves howling in the distance.


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