Out of all the returning horror icons that ever existed, surely the Leprechaun is the most traveled. While the various tour dates taken by various serial slayers has always been something of a running joke with fans of the horror genre, the diminutive gold hoarder has been racking up some truly impressive frequent flyer mileage by popping up in places like Las Vegas, space and, in 2000, even showed up in Compton for what is possibly his most infamous destination yet; the hood.
Bearing in mind that this was a fair few years before names like Jordan Peele and Ryan Coogler made black themed horror an box office winner, the genre had been surviving through the 90s mostly thanks to flicks like Def By Temptation, Tales From The Hood Bones and even the Wayans Brothers’ Scary Movie, or simply by dumping rap stars in established horror franchises such as LL Cool J and Busta Rhymes showing up in Halloween sequels. But could a film that features the titular villain rapping and puffing weed be anything less than a dignity-free zone? Maybe read the title again work it out for yourself.
Back in a time when afros and pimp heels seemed to be noticably prominent, LA gangster Mack Daddy O’Nasses and his buddy Slug discover a secret room in a deserted building that not only hides an enchanted gold flute, but contains the petrified remains of the Leprechaun who has been turned into a statue due to an enchanted amulet that hangs round his neck. While at some point the necklace is removed and the resurrected imp murders Slug with his own afro comb, Mack Daddy manages to trap him again and go on to amass a sizable fortune and become a successful record producer.
Twenty years later, we meet wannabe rap artists Postmaster P and Stray Bullet who, with their in-house technician, Butch, hope to break into the big leagues by performing songs with a positive message for the streets. However, if they want to make it to the Las Vegas based final of a hip-hop contest, they’re going to need to rustle up some cash, pronto, and much to Postmaster P’s chagrin, Stray suggests that they rob Mack Daddy in retaliation for him refusing to sign them up unless they toughen up their lyrics. Of course, the robbery rapidly goes south and the statue-fied Leprechaun (which Mack bizarrely keeps in his office) is inadvertently freed from the amulet to wreak more havoc unless his property is restored to him ASAP.
However, when Postmaster P, Stray Bullet and Butch discover that that golden flute can put listeners under a euphoric trance and thus guarantee them some epic record sales, the race is on as the boys, the Leprechaun and Mack Daddy all race to get that musical instrument back while leaving bodies and possessed ‘hos in their wake.
There’s two ways to process the fifth instalment of the Leprechaun increasingly haphazard franchise; you can see it for the ludicrous, willfully silly comedy that it really is, or you can tut loudly every time the movie employs a lazy stereotype in order to score a cheap laugh. Obviously, considering that taking a film called Leprechaun In The Hood seriously is about as pointless as shit scented air freshener, I’d suggest that you attempt the first process for best results – but even if you don’t take offence to some of the more racial coded jokes, that doesn’t mean that the Lep’s fifth outing (and second trip to LA) is a laugh riot. In fact, despite taking aim at every easy target you could imagine, I’m wondering just how under the influence of mind altering substances you’d have to be to rate this movie than anything than a ridiculous cash grab.
All the cheap shots you’d expect are all present and correct and while Warwick Davis’ Leprechaun is hardly the somber statesman of horror of a Pinhead, or a Candyman, the sight of him rapping “Lep In The Hood is up to no good” on stage, puffing on reefer spiked with four-leaf clover, or compiling a bevey of hypnotised babes with glowing green eyes named the Zombie Fly Girls tend to lean more into the groan worthy. However, it’s all so fucking stupid, you’ll probably find yourself laughing in spite of the urge to cringe uncontrollably at the fact that the filmmakers seem so eager to target such low hanging fruit. However, even more baffling is the presence of of none other than Ice-T who seemed to have a weekend free for wandering in, spouting typical gangsta tough talk, and then breezing back out again. In fact, all of the main cast seem to either be reading their lines from cue cards or trying to freestyle the clunky dialogue in a failed attempt to make it feel more natural and it merges with some threadbare production values to make the space-bound cheapness of part 4 somehow feel like Avatar in comparison.
However, I have to say, there’s still a bizarre attraction watching Davis continue to perform his cackling character in the newest of many different scenarios. With the memory of once having higher billing than Jennifer Aniston drifting even further into memory, the horror fan in me a bizarrely feels a sense of pride watching the actor faithfully mug his way through whatever the script requires him to do. Much like how the appearance of Doug Bradley would cast a brief ray of sunshine over some of the shabbier Hellraiser sequels, you can sense that Davis really does have a real, genuine love for his ginger, sneering alter ego – I mean, he has to, right? I can’t imagine the gig paying particularly well. As a result, his enthusiasm manages to elevate matters ever so slightly, even when he shows that his rapping skills are about as polished as that endearingly iffy Irish accent he’s attempted for the last seven years.
If I’m feeling charitable, I’d probably suggest that Anthony Montgomery, Rashaan Nall and Red Grant make a fairly decent trio of leads, but any good work they do and any chemistry they have is rapidly deconstructed by some impressively flat direction and a woeful script that seems to be strangely obsessed with featuring various men in drag. However, regardless of the quality of Leprechaun In The Hood, we’d find Davis returning to the mean streets of Compton three years later for Leprechaun Back 2 Tha Hood, which I guess means that the evil imp finally managed to set down some roots after years of randomly popping up all over America.
Trash enthusiasts will be drawn to the concept regardless of the quality, but Leprechaun In The Hood fails to be even remotely as fun as such a silly set up could be. But while Davis fights the good fight and the urban shift does keep things remotely fresh, this tale from the hood is more crock of shit than pot ‘o gold.
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