Hola all. Massawyrm here.

I love you guys. No, I mean, I really love you guys. I know we occasionally have our disagreements and you often shower me with sweet nothings like pompous douche bag and fucking hack. But really. I know how you feel about me. And I feel the same way about you. Trust me. I think the Good Book said it best in WTF 25:17 when God dictated For he so loved the world that he sent someone people thought looked like his only begotten son, so that whoever reads him shall not perish having seen frame one of Codename: The Cleaner. A-fucking-men, lord. A-Fucking-Men.

Come on, guys. It’s January. And all of you playing along with the home game know exactly what that means. It’s time for the opening salvo of DUMP MONTH. And who better to load up and fire the first shot than the man who put ‘the man’ in The Man, the cinematic American outlaw still not prosecuted for making American Outlaws - Ladies and Gentlemen, Mr. Les Mayfield! Back once again to pollute the collective unconscious, Mayfield returns to the action-comedy genre to once again prove that you can make just such a film while including neither action nor comedy.

Codename: The Cleaner is exactly the type of film you’d expect out of Mayfield, coupled with the high bar of excellence you’ve come to expect from the timeless comedy of a Cedric the Entertainer performance. The jokes were tired and weak when Martin Lawrence was telling them back in the ‘90s and the story lacks even the slightest whiff of original thought. I swear to God, the plot came from two guys passing a spliff back and forth while watching The Bourne Identity.

“Dude, you know what would be funny? If like, instead of being a spy, Matt Damon totally turned out to NOT be a spy. You know, like he turned out to be an accountant or some shit like that. He just got hit on the head by a spy and all the spy shit around him made him think that he was a spy.” “Dude, that’s awesome. But if he was Mexican, we could totally make him a Janitor.” “Dude, that’s racist.” “Okay. Well, I guess he could be Black.” “Now you’re talkin’. Get Martin on the line.” “Dude, Martin won’t take our calls anymore.” “Sam?” “Not a chance.” “Cube?” “Nope.” “Orlando?” “Not even if we blew him. Again.” “Bernie?” “Nuh-uh?” “Cedric?” “Hey! There we go! Now all we need is a script!” “Dude, just download Bourne Identity off of Drew’s and we’ll pencil in (INSERT CLOWNIN’ HERE) every few lines. It’s not like the suits actually watch movies. They’ll never know.”

And thus a classic was born.

What makes this thing an actual travesty, as opposed to just another failed vehicle dumped in the post-Christmas wasteland, is the supporting cast that gets dragged along for the ride on this one. Will Patton (Armageddon), Lucy Liu (Ballistic: Ecks Vs. Sever), Nicollette Sheridan (Karate Dog) – haven’t these people suffered enough - and for some seemingly completely inexplicable reason, Marc Dacascos. And when I say inexplicable reason, I mean inexplicable reason. He’s a villain who never actually does anything…until the end of the movie…when his own security guards show up…to detain him…seemingly so we can watch Marc Dacascos be Marc Dacascos…and whoop the shit out of nameless goons…while you sit there muttering “But those are HIS goons.” It’s as if Mayfield owed Dacascos a favor and Dacascos begged him for two things: a role and someone to beat up on so he can show off his roundhouse kick. It just doesn’t make any sense. At all. Even on Bizarro World. I’m actually beginning to become convinced that if I find out the answer, the universe will fold back in on itself. So let’s just leave it as one of life’s little mysteries, shall we? And I’ll try to get some sleep without thinking about it.

This certainly isn’t the worst movie, and no, it’s not an early contender for worst of the year. It’s not THAT bad. It’s just good old fashion, plain bad in a brown paper wrapper. It is everything that you would believe this movie is from watching the trailer. Only longer. And it will be completely and utterly forgotten long before it hits DVD. There’s no reason to see this, no reason to even file it away in some mental list for recall later. Unless for some reason you’re a talkbacker, at which point you might actually pay to hear Cedric the Entertainer ACTUALLY (I swear to God) utter the final line of the movie: “Spy’s gotta eat.” Otherwise, I’m sure there’s lint in some crevasse of your body that could be safely removed instead of watching this. You’re bound to have more fun that way.

Man you guys are lucky I love you so much. January, here I come.

Until next time friends, smoke ‘em if ya got ‘em.

Massawyrm

So, having seen most of his films, am I to assume that “The Entertainer” in his name is meant to be ironic? Like thin Italian guys named “Fat Tony”?