... and Introducing the Worst Film of 2007
Code Name: The Cleaner / Dustin Rowles
And so 2007 begins, not with a bang, but a cinematic diuretic, meant to secrete any trace of goodwill Hollywood has sent us during Oscar Season™. Worse, the assholes weren’t even kind enough to offer up a blatant travesty, instead offering the most tepid kind of comedy, one that I can’t even megaloathe simply due to the presence of Cedric the Entertainer, who is so goddamn likable that I can’t even work up the bile that Code Name: The Cleaner so obviously deserves. It’s tantamount to drunkenly accepting the advances of the uber-nice, hairy-chinned coed with a face full of pustules simply because you don’t want to hurt her feelings.
Still, I’d hate to lead anyone on here, for fear that Cedric starts drunk-dialing me in the middle of the night to torment me for not completely rebuffing him. You’re not getting into my metaphorical britches, Mr. the Entertainer. Consider my zipper locked shut to your ingratiating charms, particularly when they come under the guise of The Cleaner, which is atrocious in every conceivable sense. I mean, c’mon: You’re going to give us janitor-raps about “doo-doo”? — “Don’t rush me, ‘cause I’m not diarrhea.” Maybe not, but your film is awfully fucking close.
The Cleaner opens in a hotel bed, where Jake (the Entertainer) wakes up next to a dead FBI agent; his memory is on the fritz, so he doesn’t even know his own name. See, it’s just like The Bourne Identity, only instead of Matt Damon, we’re given Cedric the Entertainer; instead of a rogue government agent, we’re given a freakin’ janitor; instead of Franka Potente, we’re given Lucy Liu; and instead of a quality action flick, we’re given The Cleaner. Happy Fucking New Year.
So, after reminding himself to “breathe in the beautiful; breathe out the nasty,” Jake escapes the hotel with a suitcase full of money (but not before repeatedly spanking an old lady) where he’s intercepted by Diane (beloved “Desperate Housewives” drag queen Nicollette Sheridan), who poses as his wife, eliciting this response, “I’m married to a white woman? Who am I? Lionel Ritchie?” That’s funny, see? Because Lionel Ritchie married a white woman and fathered Nicole* and … oh, nevermind. Sadly, it’s the funniest line in the entire film.
But, as it turns out, Diane is not really his wife (making the whole Lionel Ritchie joke kind of moot), which he learns when she tries to pump him full of sodium pentothal and speed, something which I would’ve happily accepted. Jake vamooses and ultimately winds up at a diner, where he discovers that he’s dating Gina (Lucy Liu), a Valley Girl waitress with the best ghetto attitude that Liu can muster. And let me just say this about Lucy Liu: Quentin Tarantino freakin’ pulled you out of the hellhole that was a career of Charlie’s Angels sequels and Ecks vs. Sever and gives you the best role of your godforsaken career, and this is how you repay the world? By appearing in a film in which you’re asked to call Cedric “Blambo,” i.e., the Black Rambo? Fuck all.
So, Jake gets it in his head that he’s a super-duper double-secret spy, on account of the flashes of memory he does retain coming from a goddamn video game. He soon discovers, however, that he is not in fact Blambo or even, for that matter, Ghost Dog (*whisper* The Way of the Samurai *close whisper*). But he does love him some Skittles, something to which he refers to at least 4,327 times (taste this rainbow, dumbass). And apparently he also know where to find a certain computer chip that is capable of all matters of encryption, which makes him the target that all the baddies must track down. Let the inanity ensue.
Thankfully, the screenwriters behind The Cleaner (George Gallo and Robert Adetuyi) are familiar with the one secret of every great mystery: Telegraph the entire resolution within the first five minutes of the film, thereby ensuring that no one will lose sight of your goddamn Ricola joke. You know, because a large black man dressed in a Dutch outfit and doing the Amsterdam Lord of the Dance is, like, comedic bliss; the way that Cedric combines traditional Netherlandic folk dancing and bad hip-hop moves is close to orgasmic. Hang on a sec — I’ve got to retract my eyes from the back of my skull.
A cursory examination of Rotten Tomatoes reveals that The Cleaner has at least kicked off the new year on a high note — a solid 5 percent Tomatometer, the lone positive review coming from the L.A. Times, which makes me kind of giddy, knowing all those poor hapless souls out in Los Angeles who listen to Michael Ordona will undoubtedly spend 91 minutes in hell this weekend. And really, what’s more satisfying than the misery of a few empty-headed Angelenos? Somebody has to ensure that Cedric the Entertainer stays relevant long enough to land a role that befits his charisma, right?
Dustin Rowles is the publisher of Pajiba. He lives with his wife in Ithaca, New York. You may email him, or leave a comment below.
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Comments
I'm embarrassed to make public the fact that I know this, but my pedanticism has wrestled my intellectual snobbery to the ground on this one: I believe Nicole Ritchie was adopted by Lionel and then-wife. Sorry to squelch on an otherwise robust ha-ha.
Noted and corrected. And I'm a little embarrassed for not knowing that, but somehow not as embarrassed as I'd be if I had known it. -- DR
Posted by: ranylt at January 5, 2007 4:38 PM
Hey. I'm an Angeleno. And I'm going to see Pan's Labyrinth. And I'd put my trust in Pajiba's reviews over the L.A. Times any day.
But yes, there are many, many, empty heads out here.
Posted by: missmle at January 5, 2007 6:24 PM
Now, now - the NY Times has loved many a stinker.
Ranylt - for shame.
Posted by: Samantha T at January 5, 2007 6:35 PM
Is that italicized megaloathe a reference to Scrubs? Just wondering because I loved yesterday's episode. As for the film, it blows. Unlike Mr. Rowles I have absolutely no love for Cedric, so I have no problems with utterly despising this flick.
It was. -- DR
Posted by: Me at January 5, 2007 7:22 PM
Stop writting "fucking" and get FrankA Potente's name right. Gaaaahhhh....
Noted and corrected, though your typo remains. Cheers. -- DR
Posted by: B. at January 5, 2007 7:24 PM
"Stop writting "fucking" and get FrankA Potente's name right. Gaaaahhhh...."
oh, the irony..
Don't you mean, 'Oh, the irny'? (really sorry, couldn't resist.)
Posted by: razh at January 5, 2007 7:39 PM
The less said about this....err.. "film" the better. I post because I cannot believe that you dredged up Ecks v. Sever. It took years of mental and physical therapy for me to get back on my feet again after that horrible night at the cinema.
You sir, have no decency.
Posted by: BarbadoSlim at January 5, 2007 8:23 PM
Oh, Lucy. My sweet, sweet Lucy. Did you really need that new furniture set that badly?
Posted by: Vermillion at January 5, 2007 8:31 PM
I was laughing while reading this, agreeing with you the whole time and thinking what a great review it was -until the very end when you made that "empty-headed Angelenos" crack.
I hate to burst your bubble, but we all don't act like the characters from "Beverly Hills, 90210" or more recently, "The OC".
Posted by: Kaonashi at January 5, 2007 10:10 PM
Hey, Kaonashi, I wouldn't get too upset about Rowles's remark about "empty-headed Angelenos." I'm in the Southland (as I live in "The OC"*, I can't call myself an "Angeleno"), and I too felt my neck hairs bristle at the crack.
Then I remembered that no one (myself included) is really from California--we all come from elsewhere. So, a lot of those "empty-headed Angelenos" are really from out-of-state villages smart enough to have divested themselves of their idiots--similar, perhaps, to ones from the South via Ithaca, New York?
What I want to know is, how do these empty-headed idiots manage to afford the rents and mortgages around here? Not all of them can be as lucky as the girl in the Julie Brown song: "I can't spell VW but I drive a Porsche/'Cause I'm a blonde."
(*Not only am in the OC, but I live within spitting distance of The Real Desperate Housewives--on the other side of that gated enclave. You want to talk about obscene property values . . . )
Posted by: DDT at January 6, 2007 5:41 AM
Oh, I saw from the previews that Callum Keith Rennie was in this. It made me really sad that my favorite cylon could be in such crap.
But then I remembered, he's Callum Keith Rennie, the Canadian to call when you need to choke a bitch.
Even my insane BSG loyalty won't convince me to see this shit. And I can justify it, because I'm also not watching Tru Calling to see him choke Eliza Dushku. When I want to watch CKR choke a bitch, I'll just pop in Memento or BSG.
Forget Lucy Liu, somebody needs to get Leoben the recognition to stay the fuck out of "films" like this.
Posted by: not an emo kid at January 6, 2007 6:11 AM
The film looks awful. But more importantly, I'd like to second the thumbs-up for a nice Scrubs reference. Megaloathe is a great word.
Posted by: Katie at January 6, 2007 10:00 AM
Dammit, I was trying to figure out what was the Scrubs reference, and kept reading over it. Gah, I need to catch up.
By the way, nice nod there to Ghost Dog, and thank you for this:
"*whisper* The Way of the Samurai *close whisper*"
I don't know it that was sarcasm, but that is the way I am saying it from now on.
Posted by: Vermillion at January 6, 2007 10:52 AM
Hold the phone. Leoben is in this crap? Crazy as a mutha yet sexy as hell Leoben? Aw, damn. I'm totally messed up now. Why, Callum, WHY?
Posted by: Daphne at January 6, 2007 7:32 PM
...and yet, I have a premonition that Uwe Boll is going to find a way to sink even further than this benchmark. Don't take out the shovel just yet, Dustin. As long as the Wayans Brothers and Rob Schneider still exist, there will be worse than Cedric the Entertainer as not-quite-Jason Bourne.
Posted by: MrSparkle at January 7, 2007 6:24 PM
"I have a premonition that Uwe Boll is going to find a way to sink even further than this benchmark."
Yes, MrSparkle, you might be right--I see IMDb has listed Boll's "Seed" for a 2007 release:
"He is bound and buried alive. After biting & clawing his way to the surface, Seed, the blood soaked, enraged madman, is now bent on vengeance. The reign of violence that follows will redefine the boundaries of extreme gore, physical & mental torture explored through cinema."
Anyone for fresh chum?
Posted by: ranylt at January 7, 2007 8:01 PM
kenneth turan sucks exhaust pipe. long live pajiba.
Posted by: dFox at January 7, 2007 9:21 PM
"He is bound and buried alive. After biting & clawing his way to the surface, Seed, the blood soaked, enraged madman, is now bent on vengeance. The reign of violence that follows will redefine the boundaries of extreme gore, physical & mental torture explored through cinema."
OH. I get it! His name is Seed... 'cause he was buried alive and came to the surface! Like a seed growing into a plant! How clever and meaningful! Thank you, Uwe Boll!
I'm going to go shoot myself in the face now.
Posted by: emily at January 8, 2007 1:28 AM
Ok, I'm finanlly going to admit to watching Ecks v. Sever (twice) on HBO, but in my defense, it was late at night, nothing else was on, and I love watching people use lots of big guns with unlimited ammunition shoot things full of holes. And blow things up. I didn't even know that it was released in theaters - I figured it was a made for tv thing...
Posted by: pinkcheese at January 8, 2007 4:12 PM
Talk about creative spelling! finanlly = finally (Sorry folks!)
Posted by: pinkcheese at January 8, 2007 4:14 PM
This movie maybe the worst movie of January 2007, but if anyone's been subjected to the trailer for that Tim Allen movie with William H. Macy where they're a bunch of middle-aged wanna-be bikers trying to keep it real or some bull-shinnanigans (it hurts just to type that since I really like William H. Macy), I feel as though I would be justified in saying that that piece of shit movie will probably be the worst movie of the year. God, the only reason I look forward to its release is to read the review of it on Pajiba.
An Uwe Boll movie could make a good second though.
Posted by: Gigi Worthington at January 8, 2007 5:15 PM
"if anyone's been subjected to the trailer for that Tim Allen movie with William H. Macy where they're a bunch of middle-aged wanna-be bikers trying to keep it real"
Gigi, I TOTALLY saw that trailer and almost shrieked in the theatre. I don't EVER want to see William H. Macy's name paired with Tim Allen's again. I truly, truly wonder why Macy did it.
Posted by: Samantha T at January 8, 2007 8:48 PM
Samantha T said, "I don't EVER want to see William H. Macy's name paired with Tim Allen's again. I truly, truly wonder why Macy did it."
Maybe Felicity needed some diamonds from Tiffany's.
Posted by: bonnie at January 9, 2007 9:48 PM
Damn, I went to that link about Uwe Boll's 2007 movie, and died a little inside. I actually like Jason Statham (I'm even going to watch Crank for god's sake), and thus seeing him head a project as destined for shittiness as that one makes me so very, very sad.
Why must these atrocities exist???
Posted by: Kate K. at February 26, 2007 1:24 AM
