Speaking of luck (bad luck at that), once again Willow's Warwick Davis returns to probably the only role he can find, donning layer upon layer of fake warts, wrinkles and bad Leprechaun dental work to bring home the bacon... which is probably about all the payroll office will give him, and it's not even that big money, hickory smoked, honey glazed shit either, it's likely just some beaten out strips of pig anus. Anyway, all midget abuse aside, this second sequel brings our title hemorrhoid to a new world of magic and fantasy: Las Vegas. The little turd finds himself as a stone statue in Sin City where an unlucky gambler pawns him off for $20 to the Indian (as in "from India" or "from 7-Eleven") owner of a second hand store... the Indian dude got jipped! But, around the ugly little lawn ornament he finds a magic amulet that just might fetch some decent change, and some serious pain when he removes it. Actually, he not only brings agony upon himself, but upon us, the viewing audience as well, because by taking off that little piece of costume jewelry he breathes life once more into one of horror's most obnoxious monsters... and if I need to tell you who that monster is, you've obviously lost your ticket for the common sense bus and won't be able to follow along for the rest of the trip. Now please escort yourself the fuck off of my property, cuz we ain't got time for slackers on this tour, I'd like to get this over with as soon as possible. So, Habeeb yanks the amulet, 'Chauny returns to his overcooked fleshy form once more, pulls a Mike Tyson on Habeeb's ear, then skedaddles when the Indian wards him off with the amulet in hand. If only I could pull such a mystical necklace from my pocket and ward this entire series away...
Elsewhere in the land of neon cowboys and $12 Pina Coladas, a simpering little dork named Scott, just into Vegas, picks up a sweet tart of a Magician's assistant by the name o' Tammy who gets herself stranded on the side of the road when her clunker car craps out on her... why is it that all of these frigging movies, as if they weren't retarded enough to ride the special bus, seems to require a pathetic romance between two awkward young adults?! If the creators are trying to strike a chord with potential young adult viewers of this scrapple (look it up), here's a tip: the average young adult does NOT run into stranded Las Vegas magician assistants, so unless you're gonna have her prancing around with her bush pressed against the camera (and I'm definitely not talking about Laura... then again, I've seen worse... hmmmm...), I'm not interested. So, Scott gives his new romantic interest a ride to her job at the Lucky Shamrock Casino... and what in the name of Ed Asner's Brillo Padded backside is with all the convenient Irish themed garbage that strews these movies?! I know it's a sad little grasp for humor and irony, but when it KEEPS happening EVERY time, it's no longer a cute coincidence, it's just crap. Plus, I'm sure if I was Irish it'd be offensive, not because it makes fun of my heritage but because it appears in something this bad. Then again, that could be said about the main character all together, so once again I'm backed into my own corner and rambling on incessantly about absolutely nothing, when I should be trying to race through this stupid flick!
Sure enough, the movie can't just have 'Chauny run off to some magical underground hideaway to count his gold for the rest of eternity, so the stupid little imp "accidentally" drops one of his Shillings at the pawn shop, thereby giving him motivation to return later and cause trouble for a certain someone or someones. As for Scott, that stupid motherfucker cashes in every cent of his college housing money and blows his entire wad all over the casino that ditz Tammy works at. Now, that last sentence might not be so bad with a few adjustments, so allow me to play editor and make this a good thing: "As for Scott, that stupid motherfucker cashes in every cent of his college housing money and I blow my entire wad all over that ditz Tammy". There, much better. Seduced by the forked tongue of The Lucky Shamrock's slimy owner, Scott heads to a certain pawn shop to try and get some cash, either to drop more of at the crooked roulette wheel or to drop it in his gas tank so he can go back home the sad little disgrace he is... which he should be used to doing by now. Before he gets to the pawn store, Habeeb is beaten to death and strangled with a phone cord courtesy of a particular limerick spouting creature in a green suit and hat... remember, if there references are too vague for you, please leave and go back to your simplified life of ignorance and your Scream clones... hey, speaking of which, isn't cloning illegal? If it can be ruled as immoral and a horrible sin to do it one humans, they why are entire casts of humans (intolerable ones at that) being made into carbon copies, along with weak scripts and plot lines with all the originality of sliced bread? In the New Amerika, the Anubian Amerika (or Anubika!), such heinous and ungodly acts will not go without stiff punishments! If elected (or even if I'm forced to take what I want with my iron talon), I can promise no more Leprechaun movies, because I will KILL Warwick Davis! Vote Anubis!
Well, 'Chauny, after making what turns out to be the only amusing limerick in the entire 90 minutes (something about brass balls and a ass sparks), kills Habeeb like I said, only to have his precious solitary gold piece picked up by Scott, who's come in search of someone to pawn something to. Sure enough, in typical cinematic fashion, this is where Scott just happens to utter those words "I wish..." and is magically wicked back to The Lucky Shamrock where he's on a mad lucky streak and racking up the chips... and only moments before 'Chauny was going to do something worthwhile in his life and part Scott's hair with an axe... dammitt. Now, while the badly dressed troll goes sight-seeing through a wasteland of Elvis impersonators in search of his single gold piece (why he can't let just one go for once boggles the mass of drugs and dead gray matter that constitute my think tank, especially since it's going after these single Shillings that always gets him killed/turned to stone/burned alive in the first place!), Scott is using said coin to take sweet sweet gambling vengeance on the corrupt Roulette tables, becoming a golden boy and, as if we didn't see it coming, falling head-over-balls for Tammy. It's so pseudo-sweet I'm gonna throw up. As for Tammy, her prestidijitatious boss The Not-So-Great Fozzio (isn't he supposed to be a muppet?) sneaks into Scott's complementary hotel suite and steels the enchanted currency on a hunch that it is in fact real magic. This leaves Scott empty-handed and royally screwed when the vengeful 'Chauny comes calling for the dinero and Scott can't pay up, and you don't want to cheat an Irishman out of money! Those cheap bastards'll gnaw your kneecaps off, trust me...
In the ensuing struggle, 'Chauny continues his Tysonian ways (must be the influence of Vegas) and makes a snack out of a chunk o' Scotty before our hapless hero sends him sidewalk diving from a 7th story window. But, that neither spells the end for our antagonist nor Scott's problems, as he discovers that Irish stereotyping is contagious as he too starts to transform into Darby O'Gill's worst nightmare. What would you call that exactly anyway? Lepre-sy? Chaun-itis? Chaun-orreha? If any medical nerds can help me out here I'd appreciate it... well, not really, but it'd satisfy my curiosity and I wouldn't kill you too painfully. The Shilling goes from shady character to shady character, resulting in magical mishaps, plastic surgery nightmares, wet dreams come true and Tammy getting fired from her job, with 'Chauny not far behind to kill off each person one-by-one, only to constantly be one step behind his precious pocket change. While the ever mutating Scott consoles the newly unemployed Tammy, 'Chauny takes care of some wanna-be Sinatra thugs who hassle him, thumping them mercilessly with his Shaleighly like a rabid Haggis McFaggis... "Ren & Stimpy" fans MIGHT have an idea of what the Hell I just said. In an effort to expunge his rapidly domineering Irish DNA, Scott and Tammy head to the pawn shop in search of some kind of cure, where they happen to find an educational CD-ROM on the drunken faerie people that Habeeb was scoping out in an attempt to save his own ass before 'Chauny took the "reach out and touch someone" saying to a fatal level.
In the shop, Scott and Tammy also find the rest of 'Chauny's golden stash, having hidden it before going out to find that one missing coin. Instead of destroying the gold though, like the CD-ROM tells him to, Scott's blood, newly tainted by Irishness, makes him extremely cheap and greedy and he instead claims the cash for himself. So, with the gold in tow, the two awkward young lovers continue to run from their demon in bad holiday wear, turning up at the Buena Suerte (Spanish for "Good Luck") Hospital in search of a cure for Scott's new STD (Stereotype Transmitted Disease). After many a bad joke at Scott's expense but no cure, the couple leaves and return to the Lucky Shamrock, where the pizza-faced dwarf spices up Fazzio's act a tad before Scott finally snaps out of his penny pinching ways and torches the cauldron of cash, curing his Chaun-orrhea and bringing about the films one truly heartwarming moment: the end, as the Leprechaun perishes, flying through the air in a ball of cleansing fire, the same cleansing fire I'm going to need after I've finished watching this. Anyway, that's the end. Scott and Tammy defeat the forces of Irish evil given flesh, and go off to live happily ever after in pathetic lives of nothingness... until Tammy wakes up from her stupidity a month later and leaves her dork in shining armor for a certain Death God of Freaky Monkey Lovin'...
Anyone who's read my previous reviews for Leprechaun already knows why I hate these movies. The acting is always pathetic, the FX are always lack-luster, the storylines are always the same boring crap and the lead character is one of the most obnoxious and retarded villains ever to poison the screen. It's the same now as it ever was, same old shit different location and I'll leave it at that, because I don't want to waste anymore time or webspace on this. All I have left to say is if ever there was an incentive to want to watch the Hollywood Hills swallowed in the flames of Hell or the radioactive pyres of a certain King of Kaiju, Leprechaun 3 is it... as is Leprechaun , Leprechaun 2 , Leprechaun 4: In Space and Leprechaun In The Hood... you get the idea. I'm just glad I don't have to go anywhere near another one of these damn things until next year...
Sequels: Leprechaun 4: In Space; Leprechaun In The Hood
If You Liked This Flick, Check Out: contracting Chaun-orhea