Playing that boo-hiss-worthy Atari 2600 version of Pac-Man would be preferable.I thoroughly enjoyed writer/director Greydon Clark's 1976 blaxpoitation cult classic Black Shampoo which involved a stud hairdresser's conquests of his gorgeous female clients amid conflict from the community's amusing cartoonish mobster bigwigs looking to infringe on his territory for monetary gain. Vividly photographed by the great cinematographer Dean Cundey it was an incorrigible comedy that boasted "the joy of making cinema" in practically every single frame - you giddily responded to it on a purely primordial level, more than willing to overlook its contextual weaknesses in exchange for apprehensive pleasure in its disarming irreverence. So it's sad for me to report that seven years later (with the number 7 far from a lucky number in this case) the very same director has partaken in an abominable cinematic exercise by the likes of the abysmal teenage comedy Joysticks, which is about as laugh-out-loud funny as your everyday traffic accident. In what I hope was a considerable payday for its talented star Joe Don Baker who impressed many with his galvanizing star performance as the avenging public citizen in the well-regarded Walking Tall he plays an uptight martinet of a bigwig businessman named Joseph Rutter who makes it his quest to close down a Southern California's video arcade that his foxy teenage daughter frequents, declaiming it a platform for "sin and I'm decadence." The arcade, of course, is merely a hangout for high-schoolers to hang out at and have a good time, but like a lot of repressive conservative Americans Rutter is outraged that freewheeling people are simply having a more joyous experience than him - if he can't have that then no one should. So he implores the city leaders to crack down on obscure ordinances to close the place down, and the grandson of the owner and his uncouth cronies fight back, and what we ultimately have is one of those slobs-versus-snobs tales that, unfortunately, hasn't so much as a whisper of freshness or ingenuity. There's a bountiful array of female nudity, yes, but also an overabundance of gross-out flatulence nastily counterbalancing that. This time around Clark seems incapable of framing a viable shot to save his life, with the movie particularly cruddy to look at - it were as if it had been lit with fast-food heating lamps. The movie is forever going Tilt! at each and every jejune juncture.Amazing a Blu-Ray release is even available.