Last night I sat down with my buddy Mr. Jameson and a pile of DVDs full of Leprachauny goodness. I used St. Patrick’s Day as my excuse to drink alone and justified the whole thing as a “job”, which is one of the benefits of operating a movie review site. You can justify almost anything as work. My goal was to marathon all six flicks.
The following is my account of what happened. Please note: Some parts are either partially true or completely made up. I took notes while I watched and this morning have assembled those pieces into a somewhat linear story.
I have no small whiskey-sized cups and I need to do dishes so a plastic Big Gulp cup gets honors for the first round. Considering the movies, drinking straight Jameson out of a something you can get a 7-Eleven for a $1.49 seems fitting. I had the decency to remove the lid and straw though. I’m not a heathen.
Leprechaun begins and I am reminded that I had forgotten the entire intro involving an old man who gets his wife’s neck crushed for his misdeeds with Warwick Davis, aka the titular character. Jennifer Aniston then appears and I feel the urge to adjust the bulge in my pants. She’s always done that to me. Probably always will. The perfect girl next door. She plays, get this, an airy valley girl type. Basically, she did this movie walked off the set and onto the set of Friends and didn’t have to change character.
What I love about this first movie is Mark Jones’ writing. Much like Jack Frost, this holiday-themed horror is smart and funny and doesn’t push the puns so far that the movie loses all credibility from a horror standpoint. Sure, there are lots of cheeserific puns, but the movie still takes itself mostly seriously. I realize that I typed that last sentence with a straight face fully knowing that the Leprechaun pogo-sticks a poor bloke to death. Pogo-sticks. It’s not carrot rape, but it’s still pretty spectacular.
I took three lessons from this film: 1. I can drink two Jamesons during it. 2. Leprechauns could potentially be stopped by a room full of non-shined shoes and 3. Guys named Ozzie can swallow really large coins.
Jameson number three and movie number two. I think to myself, “At this pace I’ll be lucky to to see Ice-T before I’m blind drunk.” Right away I remember that I can’t stand the actress in this first sequel. She sounds a bit like a man sometimes. Not an attractive feature.
Inexplicably the sequel pretends the original film didn’t exist. This time around the Leprechaun is both wanting “me coin” and capturing a hottie as part of a revenge plot. According to Leprechaun lore, the little buggers only have the chance to get married once per 1,000 years, on his birthday, by making his chosen bride sneeze three times. Also of important note is that they apparently remain celibate if they are not married. Ten centuries ago a dude f*cked over Warwick and prevented him from getting married. So, the Leprechaun waits 1,000 years and attempts to marry someone from that man’s lineage. Yes, he waits 1,000 plus years to have sex. I’ve had cold streaks, but damn son. That’s something else. Also, three sneezes?
Being the most violent of the franchise a lot of gorehounds like this film the best out of the bunch. Me thinks the original is the best as this one is a bit too corny. If you were ranking by number of little people making appearances or Clint Howard cameos then film two would win hands down.
In film one, four-leafed clovers have an effect on Leppy akin to what holy water and garlic has on vampires. In film two, wrought iron does the same. If that makes no sense you should have another drink. I did. At which point it made perfect sense. Leprechaun 2 also has a lawnmower boob kill that is both awful and great. Awful because of the obvious stunt boobs that come from a lady who is around 5 shades darker than the actress and clearly has breasts 3-4 cups larger than the real actress. Great because a guy sticks his face into an operating lawnmower blade.
The film ends with a battle in the Leprechaun’s home which has “many tricks” waiting for the good guys. I end up with four drinks (half the bottle) in my belly and the feeling that film three is gonna be a blur.
Spoiler: It was.
Leprechaun 3 revolves around a college freshman who gets infected with Leprechaun blood and duels with the dwarf in Las Vegas. Naturally. I’m reminded of the time I was in Vegas playing the ponies (a game at MGM where you drunkenly yell at plastic horses) and drinking Bailey’s and Tequila to sober up. One of my new found friends from the horse races was an African American little person who had four friends (normals) with him. He was hilarious and we bonded over racially inappropriate and wholly offensive midget talk throughout the night. I think it was around hour nine of playing when we hit the big one, a 200-1 payoff. Rich and drunk, six of us went up to the one guy’s room to drink expensive Scotch (#notgay). We get up there and his room key doesn’t work. He knocks and knocks and then begins kicking the door with his tiny legs. Security is suddenly there and it turns out that a frightened elderly couple were the rightful occupants of that room. Moral of the story: Midgets have a terrible sense of direction.
That’s all I remember about film 3 besides the bad casino stereotype thug who is dumber than a box of rocks and a pawn shop owner who took his acting and voice lessons from Apu.
Film four is about a Leprechaun in space. I’m sleepy drunk now but I like the hot scientist girl. Ranking actresses by boners created in the first four movies goes like this: 1. Aniston 2. Magician’s assistant from number three. 3. Scientist/Doctor girl from four. 4. Princess from four. 5. Girl who talks like a man in two.
In Space is like an Alien rip-off made by a Fred Olen Ray fan club member with a smaller budget. Anyway, this one has a princess that regrows hands and has more nudity than the priors. It’s a winner, obviously and earns every one of its 3.1 stars on IMDB’s rating system (0% on Rotten Tomatoes).
This is where my notes end as I fell asleep (or blacked out depending on how you look at it) around the time a lady’s pants get ripped off while traversing a vent system on the spaceship. This morning’s tally shows that I have a little less than a quarter of my fifth of Jameson remaining and at some point ordered Domino’s. I’m a little sad I didn’t finish. I mean, the Leprechaun drank four bottles in one sitting and was still mostly chill. Which proves that the Irish should not be challenged in drinking competitions.
The films from “tha hood” will have to wait until another day. In the mean time, have a great day St. Patrick’s Day.