I Got The Hook Up
Rating -

Comedy (US); 1998; Rated R; 93 Minutes

Master P: Black
Anthony Johnson: Blue
Gretchen Palmer: Sweet Lorraine
Frantz Turner: Dalton
Anthony Baswell: Little Brother

Produced by Jonathan Heuer, Master P, Andrews Shack and Bryan Turner; Directed by Michael Martin; Screenwritten by Master P, Leroy Douglas and Carrie Mingo

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Written by DAVID KEYES

What in the world were these people thinking? What did they honestly have on their minds when they thought that "I Got The Hook Up" would pass off as a movie? These questions to ponder, I'm afraid, can only be predicted, because I doubt that the movie's makers would like to share the answers with us.

They'd probably never want to share anything with us ever again, because "I Got The Hook Up," a comedy that rolled out the summer movie lineup, received some surprisingly horrid responses from the mouths of the audience. Attending it two weeks after it opened, I found one of the most incredibly scathing audiences in my life. One of these fellow "Hook Up"-haters actually went so far to relieve himself in the front row of the theater, aiming perfectly for Master P's head on the screen. He was then escorted off the premises. Now if that doesn't say audience rejection, I don't know what does.

This is the type of movie that, if you manage to get in for free, you still want your money back. The only thing that kept it from falling apart on production stages was the fact that it did, truthfully, contain one of the most popular new rap artists around in it. I guess with musicians that look this tough and mean on screen, you'd better let them do their thing, even if it does mean making a movie as bad as this.

The story (be there little of it) is uncomplicated, dull, and so predictable that I could summarize the script in two words: phone scandal. Sure, these words couldn't necessarily describe a plot well, but in a movie like "I Got The Hook Up," the writers don't even know how to tell the story. It's about two partners of a run-down business in the 'ghetto' who are mysteriously dumped one day with a large supply of cellular phones, most of which have something wrong with them. As they make profit off of this, complaints of rip-off and false advertising start rolling in, attempting to push the two out of town and out of their business.

Yadda yadda yadda--you get the point. Actually, if you've seen the movie, correct me if I'm wrong on what occurred in the above paragraph, considering that I dozed off numerous times throughout the movie.

It is a long, stupid experience, numbed by the numerous typical ghetto flaws that show up when you're walking down the street in downtown Los Angeles. You know--hookers, bums, beaten-up people, etc. It's all part of a lifeless test at combining poverty situations with comedy, all of which are put on by screenwriter/rapper Master P, who claims that his record company (what's the name of it, again?) is one of the best-selling in the country. If this is indeed true, I must have been living under a rock for the past years. I don't think I can recall hearing him or his record label setting the charts on fire.

1998, David Keyes, Cinemaphile.org. Please e-mail the author here if the above review contains any spelling or grammar mistakes.
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