Hip-hop ’80s dance parody ‘The FP’ comes off as a snoozeOne gets the sensation while watching this low-budget ’80s parody that a bunch of people went strolling at a vintage clothing store one day, found some moon boots, acid-washed jean jackets and neon tank tops and decided to make a movie about them.
“The FP” makes fun of several genres - dance movies, underdog sports flicks, glossy action pictures - and mixes them together in an attempt at kitschy cult infamy.
But rather than crafting a movie that’s so bad it’s good, writer-director brothers Jason and Brandon Trost have come up with something that’s just plain bad - and boring and repetitive.
Once you get past the initial laugh factor of the hideous retro trappings - mullets and bandanas and boom boxes, we were so lame! - there isn’t much left.
And this criticism comes from a proud child of the ’80s. I loved “Breakin’” back then, but no one needs a remake of or an homage to it.
The predominately white characters talk in the sort of co-opted, clunky hip-hop slang that might have worked for a little while in a sketch but soon grows tiresome.
As an attempt at social commentary, this approach feels half-baked; as comedy, it just feels numbing. Their mantra - “We roll together, we die together” - isn’t all that amusing the first time, and the committed self-seriousness with which it’s repeated doesn’t sell it any more convincingly.
The film is set for no apparent reason in a futuristic wasteland of trailer parks, shacks and warehouse parties known as “The FP” (actually the Southern California mountain town of Frazier Park) where a turf war is raging between trash-talking dance gangs.
Jason Trost stars as JTRO (pronounced JAY-tro), who loses his older brother, BTRO (Brandon Barrera) in a deadly “Beat-Beat Revelation” video game showdown with their rival, L Dubba E (Lee Valmassy).
A year later, JTRO is dragged out of hiding to avenge his brother’s death in a rematch, complete with multiple obligatory training montages.
Nick Principe plays BLT, his spiritual Mr. Miyagi-type mentor, while Art Hsu plays KC/DC, who serves as the competition’s hyperactive emcee and annoying Greek chorus.
Meanwhile, Caitlyn Folley co-stars as Stacy, the damaged party girl who’s JTRO’s kinda-sorta love interest.
All the women here are drunk, trashy idiots, which might be meant as a pointed sendup of that convention, but it’s not terribly encouraging. AP