There’s still time to nominate local icons for Best of D.C.
Snoop Dogg is cool. Though most of his terror-in-the-‘hood flick Bones is every bit as bad as you’d expect it to be, Snoop’s oozing charisma makes Jimmy Bones the most entertaining cinematic ghost since Beetlejuice. Some 20 years after Bones—who carried himself like a pimp but was actually the “protector and patron” of his neighborhood in the ’70s—was murdered in his home for refusing to introduce crack to his streets, the sons of one of his former cronies buy the now-decrepit house to turn it into a club, against the advice of their angry father (Clifton Powell) and the local clairvoyant, Pearl (Pam Grier), who was also Bones’ girlfriend. Legend has it that Bones still haunts his old hangout—apparently in the form of a red-eyed dog that the new owners readily adopt and try to feed fried chicken—but Patrick (Khalil Kain) and Bill (Merwin Mondesir) have the place cleaned up and their club opened in record time regardless. The movie, which starts off weak—with do-nothing effects such as frantically rattling doorknobs and ominous whooshes—and ends as a head-scratching mess, is pure slasher-flick fun for a decent chunk of the middle: The scares will make you jump, Bones’ smooth talk will make you giggle, and the way-bad horror-movie touches, whether intentionally comic or not, will make you laugh out loud. (Just try to keep a straight face when the suddenly articulate evil dog, lording over a dead body, proclaims that he “don’t eat no fried chicken.”) Like too many scary movies, Bones is at its worst when its gross-out factor is at its highest—though you gotta admire its new twist on the swirly, which involves shoving a still-breathing being in and out of a wall of goopy dead souls. —Tricia Olszewski