Take a Drink: whenever Chevy Chase’s line delivery makes your heart sink
Take a Drink: when your soul groans at a pun
Take a Drink: for every hackneyed “comic” contrivance you’ve seen 10,000 times
Take a Drink: for every mention of cats
Take a Drink: whenever Simon Rex demonstrates his inability to act across from a tennis ball
Do a Shot: for the fucking fight scenes
By: Henry J. Fromage (Six Pack) –
I’m a bit of a connoisseur of truly, spectacularly bad films, so when I caught a clip of Jon Voight karate fighting a woefully CGI’d Briard (?) dog on The Soup, I knew The Karate Dog was in my future.
I make bad decisions.
The Karate Dog is kind of The Karate Kid, starring for reasons never explained a dog voiced by Chevy Chase. Jon Voight is the bad guy. Fuck the rest of the plot.
This movie originally aired on ABC Family, proving that ABC has a very low opinion of your family. Somehow, though, they had the budget for Voight, Chase, Jamie Pressley, the sweetly retarded fat kid from Remember the Titans, and Pat Morita, because this movie’s so monumentally lazy that they could not conceive of not casting Pat Morita. Of course he’s Karate Dog’s mentor.
Also the shopowner from Gremlins, for some reason.
Much more depressing is the presence in the director’s chair of the late Bob Clark of A Christmas Story, first slasher flick Black Christmas, and… Baby Geniuses 2.
Nevermind, makes sense.
The lead actor, however, is Simon Rex, who looks like Andy Samberg’s family disappointment of a brother and acts as well as he raps. Yep, that’s Dirt Nasty.
The guy in this video that isn’t the human cartoon from Spring Breakers or Andy Milonakis
Only the cheesiest public domain tracks were chosen for the soundtrack. They’re so generic that Imdb couldn’t even be bothered to list them. The movie ends with a band of cheaply, obviously looped CGI animals resurrected from the Uncanny Valley Pet Sematary singing “Chantily Lace”. The cup of my disgust runneth over.
Bob Clark, multiple times, makes me wonder if he’s seen a computer in the last 30 years.
This is the literal epitome of technology
That would explain the CGI. Holy fuck, the CGI. If you took the animators of those Taiwanese news segments and mercilessly beat all of the joy and humor out of them, this is what you’d get.
As unimaginatively minuscule of an amount of effort everyone else is putting into this, you have use a fucking Large Hadron Collider to locate the faint whiff of a shit that writers Steven Paul and Gregory Poppen give about their script. There’s no way those are their real names. Poppen’s name is even all red and unlinked on Wikipedia. It’s a barely stitched together spiderweb of tropes so hoary you should probably wear a condom while you watch.
One suspects that the producers of this film grievously insulted Bob Clark’s mother. This is how he repaid them.