Fango at the Flix: Super Mario Bros.

Fango at the Flix: Super Mario Bros.

Over the Thanksgiving holiday, I decided that it was time to introduce the Fangman’s nephews to a little tandem known as the Super Mario Brothers. Since I didn’t have an original NES, I thought the next best thing would be to play the movie for the little squirts.

First off, let me just say that the Old Man was a plumber from Brooklyn, the very same profession and origin as the title characters. I’ll never forget the look on his face when I brought home the first Mario Brother’s edition of Nintendo Power. “Finally some positive Italian American role models.” He said as a tear came to his eye. Well Pop, it’s a good thing you succumbed to falling down an elevator shaft years ago cuz this one’s a real shit burger.

The Tangs would be totally remiss if he didn’t address the casting. If there was ever an opportunity to give an authentic Italian a job, the role of Mario Mario (if you think about it, it’s his first and last name) would have to be it. I know at least half a dozen spaghetti slurping dagos that could knock that shit out of the park just by playing themselves. Instead, the job went to none other than the poor man’s Phil Collins, Bob Hoskins. An Englishman? You can’t get any further away from Italian on the caucasion scale than that of a limp-dick snaggle-toothed dandy.

Although angry, I thought I could forgive this gaffe if the plot was half-way decent. When John Leguizamo was introduced as Luigi, I took it personally. The dickhead can’t even grow a mustache! If the dude doesn’t have the requisite testosterone to grow a suitable mustache, he should stick to mincing around on stage as a Puerto Rican whore. I didn’t know what to tell my nephew when he asked, “Isn’t that the Puerto Rican guy from Ice Age?” Jesus. I found that I had to tell several lies to protect these young boys from the terrible truth – yes, you’re watching a film about Italian video game icons and, save fore a couple of steppin’ and fetchin’ goomba extras, the film contains exactly zero actual waps.

I’ll be brief summarizing the plot. For some reason, Luigi falls for this NYU broad who likes diggin’ in the dirt for fossils and shit. The next thing I know, she and Luigi are being muscled by the mob and, bing - they’re in another dimension dodging the likes of lizards in suits and “King Bowser Koopa” the arch-villain played by none other than that hyper-ventilating psycho from Blue Velvet. Also, said NYU broad is now princess? There’s this battle over a piece of meteorite, primordial ooze is involved somehow, dimensions may or may not merge, and a bunch of other bullshit.

Suffice it to say, this movie ruined Thanksgiving. Instead of bonding with my nephews over Italian pride, we were lobotomized and butt-fucked by the brainchild of some Japanese dick game programmer, who, for some reason decided to fetishize a couple of dago plumbers from Brooklyn. 1/2 Camaro.