Milking the cash pipette for whatever drops were left, some entertainment clowns decided to make this film at the tail-end of his afternoon in the spotlight.
The plot goes along the lines of: Ice does a song in a hall where people suffering from a lack of gravity spin around for eight minutes then Ice and his three rented black chums get on their motorbikes and ride off. One of the bikes breaks down in a small town so they end up staying there while it's fixed. Ice decides to woo a local young woman by knocking her off a horse and talking babble about never trying to impress anyone. There is a sub-plot which is suspiciously similar to David Cronenberg's (excellent) A History of Violence. Mister Vanilla's 1.5 actually remembered songs are notably absent, although he does perform a few others that sound like background noise for a tampon advert.
Ice is not a natural actor.
Or singer, come to that.
As a film measured by any traditional expectations, it fails on every level. However, it is very, very enjoyable.
Also, the fashion in that brief 80s/90s crossover period was truly terrible. Like someone had fed a factory of slaves tubs of neon paint then forced them to shit out a mess of day-glo awfulness onto sheets of fabric which were then shaped into trousers.
http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0101615/
1/10 or 10/10, depending on what you're after.
Here are some pictures from a best forgotten time:
"This apple tastes of plastic and hands."
"Gary, can we stop? I need a poo and I don't like yellow any more."
"Hello Mister Tree. You are tiny like my grandma"
*Director* "It's in the distance, you belmer."
Considerably higher than his last chart entry.
Ice's warm up act, 'Ol' Tweed Dog'
Feat. MC Phat Roller & The AK-47 Krew
"Fish Council, I come to you with my problems"
"I like yellow again look!"
"His head has gone tiny. I'm scared!"
"Shut up, you thundering cretin."
"Can we have crayons for tea?"
*Sighs* "Yes."
To look into his eyes is to know death.
Clothing, a grim reminder of our history.
Perkin.
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