For months I wanted to drive around in a ghetto-fab taxi with rollers in my hair, but ma' wouldn't let me.
No one should ever admit to enjoying this flick, as it is awash in stupidity and dripping in dumbness. It is painfully, dreadfully, wretchedly awful... and I've seen it about 47 times. In short: A tasty hunk of Velveeta, fun to semi-watch while you're vacuuming your carpets or waxing your legs, but tell no one you did.
How many passengers?:
I found Mr. T's character to be the kidney-stone I couldn't wait to pass. And Gary Busey is all kinds of Sam Kinison fun (hint: not fun at all). But everyone else on hand delivers one or two sure-p**ser lines...my personal faves being a fur-coat sporting Marsha Warfield, threatening to beat Denise Gordy's door down and "beat your ass to fried whale-sh*t!" Or the scene stealing Charlie Barnett as roller-headed "Tyrone", jumping up and down on a barn screaming "Bruce Lee! Bruce Lee! I found him! I found that karate muther-f*cker!"
And the always under-appreciated Adam Baldwin, aka 'the only Baldwin that matters' turns in yet another competent performance as Albert "Whitebread Chicken-sh*t" Hockenberry. Plus, I've been finding him kinda dreamy ever since he played the teenage ax-murderer 'Ricky Lindermann" in "My Bodyguard". Forgive me this transgression...
Where to?:
"D.C. Cab" can't make up it's mind whether or not it wants to be a family film or "Animal House" on wheels. But it's far more successful when it's being lewd, crass, and it allows it's precious child actors to spit lines like "you are, a pitiful bitch!"
What do I owe ya?:
This cab is more hoopty than Cadillac, but a fun ride despite all the potholes.
