Bad Movies Beware!
While battling a losing war with bronchitis I decided to pick another movie. Much to my surprise(read “dismay”), I discovered that I actually own the second Wishmaster movie.
My hands shook as I tried to fight them from putting the damned thing into my computer DVD drive. I fought so hard but, in the end, it didn’t even matter. In it went, and down went my self-respect as the opening sequence stormed onto screen like an angry bout of diarrhea.
As if the first one wasn’t bad enough, I noticed that Wes Craven had nothing to do with this movie. This was my second clue that it was going be about as entertaining as rubber whitey-tighties full of Ben-Gay.
Morgana is an art thief who gets caught up in a bad heist and blows away a guard during a gunfight that leaves her boyfriend mortally wounded. One of her bullets grazes a statue, and the blood gem is exposed. She grabs it, tends to her boyfriend, and drops it as the police arrive.
It has split from where it stopped a bullet that should have killed her. She leaves, and who else shows up but ol’ Wishy-poo! He claims his first victim by granting the boyfriend’s wish that he had never been born. What the police find after the Djinn freezes one of them is Nathaniel Demarest. He claims full guilt for the heist, saying he acted alone.
The next forty-five minutes of the movie might as well be a montage that floats between Morgana and her new Priest boyfriend, Gregory, going “What do we do?!” and the Djinn granting wishes from desperate(read “frighteningly stupid”) inmates.
After a while the Djinn decides to go elsewhere, and ends up in Las Vegas as the owner of a Casino. YEAH. Of course, Morgana and Gregory, after the mandatory love scene, go after him and find the casino in utter gory chaos.
A few wisecracks from the Djinn, and they all end up in his world inside the Blood gem. Greg gets nailed to a cross and Morgana gets to girl out and beg for his release.
She then grabs the gem, chants a spell in another language, and banishes him back to “Wherever-the-f**k.” All souls get returned. Everyone killed by the Djinn is back to life. Everyone is happy.
The only actor in this movie with an actual filmography outside of television cameos and porn is Andrew Divoff. The fact that this sequel spawned two more is just a Low-Down Dirty Shame.
While not as bad as Troll 2, it ranks up there with Battlefield Earth and Sex and the City.
The acting is daytime soap quality at its worst, and the script is more random than a Pee Wee Herman movie. In fact, Pee Wee would have made this movie at least a LITTLE entertaining.
I would rather shine the back of my bean bag with an electric cake mixer while circus midgets punch me in the face to the tune of “Fraggle Rock” than watch this steaming turd again.