D.C. Cab (1983)

If I told you of an 80s ensemble comedy starring Paul Rodriguez, Bill Maher, Adam Baldwin, Mr. T and Gary Busey directed by Joel Schumacher, you'd probably think I was lying, right? WRONG! It's so strange you would have to accept it were real. Who would make this up? Actually, lots of people. But they don't have the creativity to conceive of the bizarre collaboration of as-yet successful actors that is D.C. Cab.


It tells the story of a misfit group of taxi drivers in the Washington D.C. area. They are rude, inefficient, lazy, and probably smell. Their job at the cab company is only a temporary gig, serving as an inconsistent source of petty cash until they win the lottery or hit it big with a marginally successful film career, political talk show, or short-lived Joss Whedon sassy sci-fi FOX vehicle.

[Firefly reference]

Through the obligatory but overly long opening montage, Schumacher makes sure to introduce each character in the briefest and most muddled (bruddled) way possible, assuring the audience of their zaniness without committing to unique character traits or funny jokes. Black stereotype, Latino stereotype, redneck stereotype. It's "Taxi" in even broader strokes. Thankyouverymuch. In Bill Maher's introduction, he mumbles inarticulate and underdeveloped political commentary in front of the White House, offering an eerie prediction of his future career.

Maher meets his dealer (above).

Albert Hockenberry (played by a young and pompadoured Adam Baldwin) arrives in Washington to seek a job with Harold (Max Gail), his father's old Nam buddy. Despite good looks and lack of obvious mental illness, Albert's dream is to run his own cab company. He befriends each stereotyped cabbie with open arms (an uncharacteristic act of multiculturalism and global citizenship), hoping to learn the tricks of the trade (drive car, take money, etc.). He becomes especially close to Tyrone (Charlie Barnett), a smart, gentle soul who for reasons unknown acts like a raging obnoxious black stereotype. At one point he reveals his true nature to prove that if he acts like a stereotype and you treat him like a stereotype then you're bad. He also loves the word "honky" which apparently was still widely used in 1983 (by Richard Pryor).

Racism is terrible (unless it's directed toward Asians).

Once all 786 characters are adequately introduced, D.C. Cab turns into your typical underdog story. The ragtag cabbies compete with the vastly superior Emerald Cab Company, until some huge setback knocks the wind from their sails. Then Albert is kidnapped with Harry and Hermoine, and the cabbies must save their friend before the police can... do something bad.

Damn Colloportus spell!

Despite a dull plot and sorry attempts at zany shock comedy, D.C. Cab does have its bright spots. Primarily Gary Busey, whose presence automatically makes everything at least four times better. In an about face from his typical roles, Busey plays a crazy guy who says funny things.

Harry and Hermoine are also reasonably funny. Their shtick is, as the children of rich parents, they're kidnapped all the time, so they go through what should be a traumatic experience with routine nonchalance.

D.C. Cab is worth worth watching in a "it's 3 A.M. and nothing else is on STARZ" kind of way, if only as a time capsule of 80s nostalgia and a glimpse into the career of Gary Busey before he went full-blown Heaven's Gate crazy.

Quotable quotes (exclusive Busey edition):

"Just doing some intestinal yoga."

"You're lucky those pork chops didn't shoot you and say you was crazy on PCP cuz thats what they say about everybody they shoot and I think they're lacing the bullets with PCP cuz then they got an alibi for killin' everybody! Think about that!"

"If I wanted responsibility I'd a been a damn sex surrogate!"

"Albert doesn't have no political convictions. He's an American!"

"Hey you know Bruce Lee he ain't dead. They got him kryptonized down in Chadsworth. He's jammed in a silo and frozen hard as a carp and they're gonna melt him down as soon as the economy gets better."

"Why are women so uptight? They got half the money and all of the pussy!"

Arbitrary rating system:

(3 1/3 Buseyheads)

Bulletproof (1988)

Many attribute Gary Busey's deranged public persona to his 1988 motorcycle accident. He is loud, abrasive, and nonchalant about his obvious mental issues. What Bulletproof teaches us is he never took himself too seriously. Shot just before his brain-altering collision, Bulletproof is what happens when an action film forgoes all pretense of sincerity.
When the top secret super tank THUNDERBLAST is stolen by a conglomeration of "Cubans, Nicaraguans, A-Rabs" and other 1980s strawmen enemies, the United States calls upon psychotic cop Frank "Bulletproof" McBain, who assumed the nickname not from an ability to dodge bullets, but his willingness to absorb every projectile with his pasty white frame. He keeps these bullets as trophies, placing them in a Mason jar under his sink.
Bulletproof begins on a stake-out with McBain and his middle-aged black parter Billy Dunbar (Thulmus Rasulala) who, as previous action films might suggest (some also featuring Busey), he is, in fact, too old for this shit.
Despite Dunbar's insistence that they call for backup, McBain jumps down from the rafters of a warehouse to break up an arms deal involving Mexican druglord Sharkey (played by the most Mexican of all actors, Danny Trejo). When Sharkey inquires as to who he is, McBain declares "your worst nightmare, buttorn!" This is an accurate statement, as I have frequently had nightmares in which Gary Busey jumped down from rafters to kill me. The gang escapes in an ice cream truck armed to the teeth, which McBain pursues.

After a dramatic chase scene, Sharkey lobs a grenade into the pursuing vehicle. McBain has enough time to register the existence of the grenade, freak out Dunbar, throw the grenade back out of the car, land in the back of the ice cream truck, freak out the drug lords, flip the ice cream truck, and finally explode. This gives the grenade about a 320 second fuse.
After the obligatory chewing out by his commanding officer, McBain retreats to his apartment to remove the bullet. He is met by all the amenities of an ideal bachelor pad: old magazines, juke box, and nude French woman (Lydie Denier).
Not long after, McBain is sent to retrieve THUNDERBLAST, which I assume is a Buseyism for Teaching Haphazard Undercover Narcotics Dealers Every Real Basis Left at Starting Totalitarianism. He is given a very brief briefing on the tank, complete with crude blueprint proving that it is a tank. When one of the government lackeys insults his ex-girlfriend (who was kidnapped during THUNDERBLAST's theft), McBain responds by sliding an ashtray across the table into his crotch.
The circumstances needed to achieve such an act--table height, lackey height, table and ashtray friction, wind resistance--make this one of the most wonderful violent happenstances ever conceived.

Once in Mexico, McBain meets up with some local help, assuring their loyalty by giving the password: THUNDERBLAST. Apparently "password" was already taken.

McBain is immediately betrayed, captured, and tied to a giant wheel. One might think the wheel is some elaborate spinning torture device, but alas, it's just a wheel. The villains instead offer vague threats such as "let's see how bulletproof you really are" and then proceed to not shoot him. This gives McBain the perfect opportunity to escape via the wonders of gravity and centrifugal force.
As this is a fine work of 1980s American jingoism, McBain does away with the multinational confederacy of foreign jerkwads, including a gravel-voiced Soviet commander who chose the Mexican desert to show off his ushanka.
As far as deranged American supercops go, Busey is the perfect fit. He is blonde, barrelchested, crazy-eyed, and never closes his mouth even when silent. Of course if he ever did shut his clap trap, his Chiclet teeth would sink halfway into his chin.
McBain even has his own signature catchphrase, calling people "butthorn" on three non-consecutive occassions. All in all Bulletproof is a masturful work of 80s schlock, and a reminder of a time when Gary Busey was considered a marginally bankable leading man. His roles have been subsequently replaced by his son Jake, who retains his big-teethed charm without any risk to the director's endocrine system.

What to drink:

A Butthorn: Pepto-Bismol spiked with bourbon.

Quotable quotes:

Dunbar: When's the last time you saw a guy take a limo to a deserted warehouse for a creamsicle?

Dunbar: Them AKs'll blow a hole through your underwear, not to mention my black ass!

McBain: To subdue or be subdued, that is the question.

Tracy: You may be bulletproof, but you're not love-proof.

Col. Cartiff: Do you find something amusing, Captain Shepard?
Devon Shepard: Yeah, your FACE!

Helicopter Pilot: There's nothing but desert down there.
McBain: And CACTUS!

Col. Cartiff: Take off your clothes.
Devon: Go fuck your camel.

McBain: Bird season's over, butthorn.

McBain: Now back off, Colonel Asshole, before I blow this whole place to Montezuma.

Arbitrary rating system:

(6 Buseyheads)