Schlock du Jour: Bad Magic (1998)

directed by Mark and John Polonia

SOVember is here! That means extra helpings of shot-on-video wonders for the duration of the month. Thank me later. For now, seek out these estranged siblings of cinema, and satiate that hunger we both know you have. The hunger for the crops from lightly tread territories… You see a fork in the road and you charge through the middle, you savage.


I’ll admit it up-front. I am not qualified to be reviewing Bad Magic. I don’t have the arsenal of analogies, or a properly flexed vocabulary. Bad Magic may have enlightened me, or it may have taken years off of my life. There is no way for me to know, and that’s exciting. For godsakes, I’m doing something different. While everyone is out watching the newest Marvel drivel, I’m over here watching something I can talk to maybe 2 people about that I met online. That’s special, and I think that makes me more interesting, AKA better than you.

Booga booga?

Bad Magic answers the question of what happens when you put a lead with a 2nd grade reading level in a voodoo-drenched hood flick with a lemonade stand budget. Good thing too because I’ve wondered about that all my life.

Aside from the stilted narration from a lead that sleepwalks his way through the movie, the first thing you’ll notice is the SOV “charm” of the Polonias.


This guy
And this guy. Actually these pics may be the same guy as the Polonias are twins.
They stage a room by putting up curtains and blasting fluorescent light so that you’d think you were watching an evangelical sermon on public access. They dress the characters in bad wigs and try to convince you that a mask is actually a monster. These are staples of SOV and noone is as well versed as the Polonias.
Someone made a whoopsie!
Plot is as follows. The Red Claws got Amos killed. Now, brother Renny (the sleepwalker I mentioned earlier) must get revenge on that shitty gang he belonged to. Where should he begin? With some maraca-shaking VOODOO, that’s where!
Yes, death from a distance. Voodoo dolls and all that. Yes, thanks to the demon man (was it Tobanga or Blahkeeblahkay? I can’t keep these things straight!) Renny can’t be as bored as he likes while murdering the Red Claws. With bad props and odd editing, Bad Magic manages to be exactly what you’d hope out of the genre. Completely asinine and confounding. Shirk the expectations of Hollywood, do your own thing. That’s the takeaway here. Have I harped on you enough yet?
Stay slime, and be rad at all times!

2 thoughts on “Schlock du Jour: Bad Magic (1998)

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