Caged Wisdom: Ghost Rider

In Mark Steven Johnson's big-screen adaptation of the (marginally?) popular comic book Ghost Rider,  a reckless stuntman of the Evel Knievel mold, Johnny Blaze, is transformed into the demon Mephisto's personal bounty hunter. In the presence of evil souls his head erupts into a flaming skull and he gains the powers necessary to drag the damned down into the void. Interestingly, Johnny's alter ego makes very little effort to hide his demonic makeover. I suppose that, if I was a skeleton engulfed in flames, subtlety would not be among my chief concerns either. All well and good: every work of fiction requires the suspension of disbelief, but take a second to consider the implications that remain unexplored in this film.

I would not fit in in Ghost Rider's fictional universe. For starters, I tend to over-think things a great deal. Even before the final act of the movie every principle character becomes aware of Johnny's dark affliction. What everyone (including Johnny) ignores is exactly what this metamorphosis means. If Johnny has been cursed to become Mephisto's errand boy, then it only follows that we can infer that the Devil exists. By extension, Johnny's curse basically proves God's existence. You would think that this would be kind of a big deal, but in the Marvelverse this revelation goes completely unnoticed.

If one was to think about it too hard, nothing about this holds up even under the most elementary scrutiny, and the same thing can be said about how Ghost Rider should be approached. That being said, I knew going into this movie that I would have to shelve my theological concerns and (no pun intended) just go along for the ride.

We've been having a bit of a go at poor Nic lately, so I feel like it's important to say that I enjoyed Ghost Rider. However, I have to make that statement with the conceit that there is nothing particularly good about it. In fact, Ghost Rider is constantly flirting with incompetence. Characters are underdeveloped, enemies are hilariously underpowered, and there are set-ups with missing pay-offs. For example, before Johnny has his inevitable confrontation with the film's antagonist, he is brought to the deserted town of the film's final battle scene by a former ghost rider who acts as his guide throughout the film. When they reach the town, Johnny's mentor literally turns around and leaves, explaining that he could only transform one more time. Johnny takes this quite well, but if I was in his place I would be outraged: why the hell would you waste the remnants of your powers on the commute? That shit might come in handy while, you know, fighting the forces of Hell. I'm just saying.

Additionally, the CGI effects merit special attention. Johnny's flaming skull—the defining characteristic of the Ghost Rider character—isn't even proportional to Cage's body. I can kind of understand when some of the other special effects turn out lacklustre—I'm sure this movie didn't employ one of Hollywood's CGI dream teams—but at least get the basics right.

There really isn't much to talk about in terms of the supporting characters or cast aside from the gloriously cleavaged Eva Mendes (swoon). While watching Ghost Rider, I got the distinct sense that everyone in the supporting cast was a) listlessly running out the remaining time on their D-list obscurity, or b) naively hoping that a strong showing in this film could catapult them out of said insignificance.

This is a bit of an aside, but I do, however, really like the impossible ideal that Johnny's love interest, Roxanne (Mendes), represents. When she learns of her man's demonic possession she does her best to understand the curse as opposed to—completely understandably—screaming in terror until her eyes bleed. That's a woman worth holding on to if I've ever seen one. Plus she's Eva fucking Mendes.

Anyways, you may remember me saying that I enjoyed this movie, and this is true. In spite of the film's numerous and fundamental shortcomings, it remains enjoyable to watch. In my review of Bangkok Dangerous I expressed my dismay at Cage's uninspired delivery. In this sense, Bangkok Dangerous and Ghost Rider represent a binary opposition when it comes to shitty Nicolas Cage movies. Where else could you see Nic eating jellybeans out of a martini glass? This is Cageness at a high level, and Ghost Rider contains one of the best Cage-freak-outs of the contemporary Cage-era during his first transformation into the titular antihero.

The man really goes for broke in Ghost Rider and, in the end, that's all I really wanted.