“Either she’s dead or asleep with the PMS runs.” Detective Akeem
Swift shot: Dear God, what did I just watch? It was like watching a porn parody, but with worse dialogue and acting. At least with a porn parody, there is some sex between the terribly ridiculous story-telling. You know those disclaimers they have at the end of every film? “The characters and events depicted in this photo play are fictitious. Any similarity to actual persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.” If any of these people actually exist, it’s time to drive them out to the woods and hire competent killers to put them down and end their suffering. Each character seems to cry out with their eyes . . . “Kill me!”
Actor/Writer Myles McLane plays Max, the most inept, retarded character who ever lived past twenty in the history of film. I mean, if he was supposed to be slow, maybe, but his level of idiocy makes Emperor Tod Spengo look competent! His partner, Ruthie (Emerald Robinson) is sexy, and she can shoot, and it’s unfortunate that she is teamed up with Max. At least, at first, you might feel sorry for her. As the film progresses, however, one has to wonder if she doesn’t deserve Max after all.
Then there is their boss, Michael Cunningham (Douglas Macpherson) who randomly sings when he’s excited, and I mean, hey, that’s cool and funny . . . almost. He’s got some woman with him in every scene like some kind of cheesy ’30s gangster film meets San Fernando Valley, named Sprinkles (Melanie Camp).
Roger Payano plays gorked Detective Akeem, and his methods are supposed to be hilarious, but because they are so over-the-top silly, that is what you get with him, a silly mess. His partner, the rookie Cynthia (Anita Leeman), has a real passion for appearing to be a cop. Cynthia has a past that has pushed her to pursue scumbags. These two cops can’t be seriously compared to anyone else in film. Almost, but, no, they are unique characters, and for that alone, Director Mark Newton deserves praise.
The hit team goes around barely performing their tasks, and they are eventually confronted by their boss, the two detectives, and another incompetent hit team in the woods for a final gunfight that defies description.
I honestly think any critics that like this film should have their sites shut down! I am dead serious. There is lampooning, and then there is just shitting the bed, and Hit Team drops a deuce all over their California King sheets!
The characters are like Mom and Dad Save the World fucked the cops from Plan 9 From Outer Space and all had an orgy in The Room while the cast of Postal watched, but there was no Mystery Science Theater 3000 narration to make this thing remotely watchable.
Here’s the weird thing, though, the story had potential. I know it sounds ludicrous, but it could have worked, like how Cop Rock almost worked.
Essentially, you have a two person hit team assigned to kill people in Los Angeles. They don’t get along; one is a bit daft, and the other is more professional. Their boss is a psychopath, and he randomly sings his emotions, and there is a seasoned detective teaching a rookie female cop (with emotional issues brought about by a dark past) how to survive the streets.
See, minus the singing shit, it’s almost like a Lethal Weapon pitch. That is what Hit Team is really all about, but with zero nuance, I mean none! There is no tact; there is no holding back on the absurd, and it is cartoonishly goofy.
But, if you are a masochist who can’t remember your safe word, you can watch Hit Team, right here: Hit Team. For the love of all that is sacred (not that much is anymore) don’t say I didn’t warn you. Oh, I know there will be some total Cinema Terriblé fecal frothers that will not heed my advice. You poor bastards. Sorry, but I am channeling H-Man a lot in this review, because he doesn’t know how lucky he is I didn’t plop this fucker in front of him.
