BAR
STARZ
By
Jacqueline Monahan
Jacqueline
Monahan is an English tutor for the GEAR UP program at
UNLV. She is also a consultant for Columbia College
Chicago in Adjunct Faculty Affairs.
jaxn8r@msn.com
Oh no, I thought, not another film glorifying the shallow life of club scene
regulars. The title and subject matter initially put me off. However, I was
not prepared for the way the film pokes fun at itself and establishes the
absurd side of these nocturnal posers and ultra-cool yet clueless
night-lifers. The tragically hip are hilarious here with their primping,
slang, and laughable posturing. Cars are equipped with mega-bass amps that
shatter glass. Kangol hats and bare chests are presented as requirements.
Good guy, but somewhat of a social nebbish with the corresponding name of
Barry Shlotzak (Derek Walters) moves to San Bernardino, a city his obnoxious
but well-meaning friend Doug (Charlie Finn) insists on calling San Bernardin-HO.
Barry’s there to attend the local community college. Yes, he moved out of
state from Ohio for a community college, poor guy.
Good girl and community college student double major Ryann (Jana Kramer)
catches Brad’s eye on campus. Doug disapproves. Hasn’t Barry just moved away
from clingy somewhat psycho-ex-girlfriend Tiffany? (Jayma Mays)
Doug takes Barry to a club and gives an experienced observational tour to
his reluctant friend, pointing out groups like Thorough Heads, Box Heads,
obvious minors and the omnipresent old guy, hanging on long past his prime.
The rest of the population is merely “filler.” Then there’s the ultimate
clique, which makes a hilarious slow motion entrance so you can view them in
all of their splendid lunacy.
Three different types comprise this group: The Ali G wannabe and undisputed
club king, Donnie Pintron (Jon Bernthal); The Sean Penn stoner/surfer dude
from Fast Times at Ridgemont High, Cory Lemuixk (Eric Laden) and the
freestylin” black rapper that gives street cred to the pack, TJ Fykus (Affion
Crockett). The hoochie mamas that hang around them could not purchase a clue
with stolen cash. There’s Donnie’s sister Pennie (Nikki Griffin) and her
sidekick Melanie (Jelynn Rodriguez). These two, inexplicably, also attend
San Bernardino Community College, where Pennie brags that she can “remember
things sometimes.”
Pintron is running a contest for a homie to join his clique as an intern,
the chance of a misbegotten lifetime. Doug signs Barry up as part of his
lifestyle makeover and wouldn’t you know it, Barry is picked as one of five
finalists. You can safely say that he’s considered the white nerd of the
group, which is comprised of Big Mikey, (Daniel Franzese) a white hip-hop
aficionado, Brad Thunder, (Sam Horrigan) a stylin’ amputee, Ussef, (Ben
Gleib) an intense Middle Eastern fanatic and Phillip (Thomas Hobson),
Barry’s black nerd counterpart.
The competition’s on, featuring such inane challenges as picking up babes
and dressing “fly.” Meanwhile Doug busies himself with detailing and
“pimping” Barry’s ride. The transformation is almost complete. The reluctant
Barry strains his relationship with Ryann while pursuing shallow Pennie.
This straightens itself out in the end, as all such misunderstandings do in
cinema-land, but not before some light bulb moments (of very dim wattage)
that lead our man onto the right path – for now.
Club Doorman Clay (Charlie Murphy) can spot a minor without binoculars and
will “X” the back of both their hands while spouting philosophical sayings
and stories about the past, when Arnie (also Charlie Murphy) was the
legendary doorman to then-Club King Ricky Fabulous (Jon Gries). Barry has
several encounters with Clay, not all of them pleasant, but always
educational. Clay’s one of the sane ones in this nightly circus, with the
hidden wisdom of one who’s seen it all.
Walters, Finn, and Bernthal provide all of the laughs in this film, in
different ways. Walters is the quiet voice of conscience and wavering
reason. Finn is the smartass know-it-all who is not intimidated by his
surroundings. Bernthal is the larger-than-life club master who plays it so
seriously over the top that you have to laugh at his character’s lack of
insight. Murphy proves to be a likeable screen presence.
Kramer, Mays and Griffin provide three different female types, only one of
them (Kramer) acceptable. Mays’ character is the typical shrieking ex,
wild-eyed and possessive that would make a man flee to a community college
several thousand miles away. Griffin is the blonde that the jokes were made
for: empty headed with a mean spirited smile and not enough brain power to
light an appliance bulb.
Director/Writer/Producer Michael Pietrzak makes his feature film directorial
debut with this effort. He also co-wrote and produced 3 Days to Vegas,
starring Peter Falk and Rip Torn. Pietrzak owned nightclubs in his hometown
of Buffalo, New York, which is where he got the inspiration for Bar Starz.
He knows what to hone in on, what to ridicule and expose. Except for an
unfortunate title and a completely unnecessary and gross scene at the
beginning of the film (a fat student persistently cleans out his navel
during Barry and Ryann’s first conversation) Pietrzak nails the superficial
mindset that personifies the club scene and its nocturnal denizens.
Bar Starz earns its chicks as a parody, surprising no one more than this
jaded, easily bored reviewer. I think a drink is in order.
