Movie Title: Ghost Rider
Written and Directed by: Mark Steven Johnson

Starring:

Peter Fonda ... Mephistopheles
Nicolas Cage ... Johnny Blaze/Ghost Rider
Donal Logue ... Mack
Eva Mendes ... Roxanne Simpson
Wes Bentley ... Blackheart

You know, for the first real, full, “Cinema Eaters” here at the footnote, I wanted to whip out a classic. Something utterly wonderful and horrible and well-known and cherished and... something with a bit of class, you see.

Instead, I ended up with Ghost Rider on my Netflix queue.

What to say, what to say... Well, it wasn't the worst movie I've ever seen. Shit, let's just dig into this bad boy…

Mark Steven Johnson has committed many questionable acts of cinema. He wrote Grumpy Old Men and Grumpier Old Men. Well, sure. Then he (later on, obviously) wrote the Daredevil movie, directed it, and then produced the Elektra movie before writing and directing Ghost Rider. Note he did not direct Elektra. That was Rob Bowman.

But I digress a bit, I think.

My point was, really, that Mark Steven Johnson is responsible for Daredevil, Elektra and Ghost Rider, as far as film goes. So the urge comes over me to compare the three. Put simply: Ghost Rider is worse than Daredevil but better than Elektra.

It's a bit like saying that something is worse than being kicked but better than being stabbed, isn't it? Either way, you know it still just isn't that fucking pleasant. And it isn't. Ghost Rider concerns Johnny Blaze, who as a young man made a deal with the debbil to save his father. Of course, the debbil being tricksy, his father bites it anyway, and young Blaze rides off to stay away from everyone and everything. One assumes he would choose to do this by becoming a hobo, or Bill Bixby.

No, he decides that he can be obscure by becoming the most well known stunt-bike rider of his time. Admittedly he's right. How many X-Game Motocross champeeens can you name off the top of your head? So, you put a guy who gets second billing to a big truck that crushes cars a few levels below those guys, I think. Really, there are many brands of cheese more famous than Johnny Blaze.

Anyway, he isn't good at his job, it seems. I mean he crashes, and we're told he basically seems to crash a hell of a lot. He just doesn't get hurt. Ever. See, his deal with the debbil, well it seems to have made him impressionable... no, that isn't it. Immoral... no wrong again. It's made him utterly invulnerable. Now, why did the debbil make him invulnerable? Well, he isn't really, see.

No, the debbil goes to every show and makes him crash and then makes sure he doesn't get hurt. Maybe. The film ain't very clear on that. It might be that he just sucks, and the debbil is all, "Ha ha! I make you not hurt!" because uhm... the debbil, he was... well... see it's like this…

Once upon a time the debbil gave some guy the power to be the Ghost Rider and fetch shit for him. Satan's Messenger Boy. Like Joan of Arc for the other side but comes packaged already on fire. Like a pre-wrapped sausage.

Uhm, so it would appear that Blaze is the next Ghost Rider. Except he isn't yet because the debbil don't need no fetchin' just then. So instead he's just a... look who the fuck cares? WHO CARES? I don't care! You don't, either!

No one cares! Because it's boring! It's pretty lights and sounds that flash around and tell you nothing. Nothing at all except that Nic Cage likes to point as if he were Elvis. And that Johnny Blaze likes jellybeans and the Carpenters.

And then he becomes Ghost Rider, and the shit gets weak.

It's an exercise in pointless. It gets all stupid and cliché and then decides to dump everything for really quick and BORING AS FUCKALL fight scenes that are simply CGI masturbation anyway.

Boring. Stupid. Pointless. Cliché. Ghost Rider.

Fuck. This movie was annoying. Don't see it. Let me prove this to you. Here are some lines from the film. Real lines.

Any man that's got the guts to sell his soul for love has got the power to change the world. You didn't do it for greed. You did it for the right reason. Maybe that puts God on your side. To them that makes you dangerous, makes you unpredictable -- that's the best thing you can be right now.

Your penance stare won't work on me. I've no soul to burn.

I've got a dog named Lucky -- he's got one eye and no nuts. Lucky don't cover it, JB. You got an angel looking after you.

He may have my soul, but he doesn't have my spirit.

You still wanna watch this? Well, go right ahead. But you've been warned.