A Low Down Dirty Shame Movie Review

Question of the day: why is there such an appeal to brainlessness?

One hypothesis, that we spend our working hours thinking and want to relax and thus not think in latter hours appears to hold water at a glance. However, when you peer deeper you realize that not everyone enjoys turning their brain off. Furthermore, many people cannot turn their brain off. Yet I am both A and B and still find brainlessness enjoyable.

Then again, I also think Monty Python films are works of genius, so...

The reason the question is brought to mind (no pun intended) is the simple matter of the 1994 action comedy A Low Down Dirty Shame, which could be either described as a low down and dirty shame to watch or a shameful relaxation, whichever pun strikes your fancy. Here we have a film with no redeeming value whatsoever. There aren't morals, there aren't characters, there aren't twists. And yet, like so many other films with no redeeming value, A Low Down Dirty Shame can be an enjoyable way to kill time.

This enjoyment is contingent upon your own ability to suspend disbelief, stand racist jokes, and put up with Keenen Ivory Wayons for an hour and three quarters. The select demographic that fits all three of these prerequisites will enjoy the film. The rest of you will hate it.

The plot of A Low Down Dirty Shame is as follows: ex-cop turned suicidal private detective. We have seen this before, obviously. His ex-love, ex-whore Angela (Salli Richardson) has made off with drug money and Shame is hired to track her down. His secretary, Peaches (Jada Pinkett), is in love with him.

The rest of the movie is predictable and thus I will not waste my time describing it.

The question with A Low Down Dirty Shame is not "is it worth my time?" The question with A Low Down Dirty Shame is "is it worth the waste of my time?"

Good luck answering it.