Ghost Rider Movie Doesn't Even Spark

Johnny Blaze has a flaming skull head and a CG body because he is cursed by the devil after selling his soul (technically he leases his soul he doesn't actually sell it) to save his father from dying of cancer and then the devil watches as the father dies performing a carnival stunt driving a motorcycle through a ring of fire but the devil waits to collect until he needs Jon most which is when his son raises some chumpy elemental demons to bring about the apocalypse whereby the devil then evokes the contract at a most inconvenient time in Johnny's life, turning him into a flaming, ghostly, instrument of revenge that spouts very forgettable and sometimes perplexing one-liners but worst of all stands-up his extremely hot ex-girlfriend, not for the first time.

It's not really that complicated. In fact the whole megillah can be summed up with a Top Eleven style list: (Some lists go to ten but mine go to eleven!)

Number Eleven. This takes place in the American West, a red state like Texas, where cowboys roam and the antelope play. Don't forget that. But if you do, there are deserts, motorcycle shows, guys in sleeveless denim who treat their busty women-folk like busty women-folk should be treated, and bars in the middle of nowhere just begging for a reunion with the devil's little boy and his twitchy little demon friends.
Number Ten. The devil's son is a spoiled rotten kid. An ingrate, prep school, pretty boy who thinks he knows everything. His friends are all losers and they get shit-canned pretty quick by Ghost Rider. As a matter of fact, Ghost Rider has a harder time lassoing a police helicopter than he does ridding the world of the eternally cursed former angels cast from heaven into demonic elementals.

Number Nine. In what could have been played as one of this year's great tongue-in-cheek, over the top, classically evil rolls to rival The Emperor from Star Wars and Jack Nicholson's Joker, Peter Fonda plays none other than the Devil himself, in the creepy flesh. If you know Peter Fonda's work then you know he oozes Chester-The-Molester-type-creepiness. But he plays it way to straight. One can see him mouthing his Academy Award speech as he exudes his awkward, unintentional, schmaltzy, performance.

Number Eight. The whole thing is just another in a long run of mindless, MTV Video style movie dreck, with the occasional Matrix effect thrown in. The best I can tell, it was plotted with a ten-pound bowling ball, a yard of rope and a copy of "How to write a screenplay for thirteen year olds in three days or less." This movie was cobbled together like a MySpace page with everything cool slapped in wherever they could find a blank space.

Number Seven. They took Ozzie Osborne's classic, heart thumping, cooler than cool, metal anthem, "Crazy Train" and made it dull. When I am usually pumping my fists to the throaty guitar riff I was staring at the screen, mouth opened wide, hoping that the 50-ounce soda I just drank would kick in so I could spend a few minutes at the urinal.

Number Six. Waiting for the time when my bladder would finally kick in was the most conflict and tension in the entire movie. It turned out that my bladder had more depth than any of the characters.

Number Five. Sam Elliott never even showed up to play his part. Seriously. The best special effect in the entire movie was how they cut Mr. Elliot from previous roles and simply pasted him into this movie. No kidding. See this movie just for this amazing trick of modern movie magic.

Number Four. Apparently they blew the entire FX budget on the Sam Elliot cut-and-paste so there was nothing left over when it came time to animate the Ghost Rider. Fortunately they had some old Herman Munster body shots that they were able to salvage. That and the cheap overstock of Halloween Skulls they cut in almost saved the Ghost Rider character. Almost. Not quite but you have to give them credit for doing what they could with limited resources.

Number Three. They didn't write one word of dialogue or an entire scene. They took a bunch of undergraduate film school student Screenwriting 101 papers and threw them up in the air. "Over here is the drunken, semi-abusive father. I found a scene where he leaves his girlfriend standing in a field of purple heather. In the rain. She's holding her suitcase! This guy's a Carni! Cool! Motorcycles. A best friend. A drunken father! He's dying. Oh, oh, oh! A deal with the devil! An ex-girlfriend! What's this? The Carpenters? A monkey doing karate? What the heck do I do with this stuff? Oh, just throw it in the middle for laughs. Leave no cliché unturned. No bad pun un-punched. Who needs tension, meaningful dialogue, subtlety and story?" I waited for the moment when Nicolas Cage would turn to the camera with his dumb grin, wink and whisper, "Now this is the part when..."

Number Two. I gained exactly three pounds watching Ghost Rider. The popcorn and sugar from the soda had nowhere to go considering the fact that I expended not one ounce of energy in my brain trying to think about the plot of this movie.

Number One. Nicolas Cage has the uncanny superpower to invoke one role in one great movie and has recycled it for almost every film he's every done since. (And doubly for Ghost Rider.) Raising Arizona! He's naïve, confused, troubled, somewhat out of place, has a slightly raspy voice, beady eyes and a perpetual furrowed brow. Unfortunately he does it so well it's not acting anymore, it's just Nicolas Cage in another movie. Can somebody get this guy a roadmap, please?

Two Stars. One star for zaftig, Eva Mendes, and another because after all the contrived scenes and ridiculously short battles, the way in which he defeats the son of the devil actually makes some sense. It's too bad that by the time it comes, you just don't care.