GHOST TEAM ONE Movie Review: An Unyielding Exercise In Extreme Pain

What if you made a found footage horror comedy and it was the worst thing ever? You'd have made GHOST TEAM ONE.

I’ve been writing about movies professionally for a bunch of years now, and I’ve developed a pretty good sense of when to simply skip a film. Nobody needs to read my thoughts on Percy Jackson and the Sea of Monsters and I didn’t need to subject myself to the movie (and the travel time and the writing time) either. I just skipped it and nothing of value was lost. Somehow this sense failed me when it came to Ghost Team One, an odious found footage horror comedy that manages to make even despicably racist humor boring.

There’s promise in the premise: two buddies agree to do a documented ghost hunt in order to get into the pants of a pretty girl. One buddy is a vain womanizer, the other is a nerdy wallflower - a fairly classic buddy comedy set-up. What’s less classical about this duo, though, is that they’re both insufferable douchebags whose juvenile sexuality and casual sexism would have seemed lame to me when I was 12.

Carlos Santos is almost tolerable as the nerdy guy, but JR Villareal is wall-punchingly awful as the hypersexual self-styled ladies man of the two. Villareal plays perhaps the pinnacle of hateful pussy-hounds, a guy even Stifler would find tedious. Every moment he’s on screen - and he’s on screen in most moments of Ghost Team One - is torture.

None of the film’s jokes work. They’re either set up terribly, delivered without skill or edited into oblivion. The film is a textbook example of how not to cut comedy, with what I’m assuming was uninspired improv being spliced together in quick cuts in many scenes. The longer takes rely on the deep humor of people putting ‘Fuckin’’ in front of every word, as well as making blunt, flat sexual references. “You’re fucked… hard!” a character warns the leads when he learns the identity of the ghost they’re hunting. “You’re fucked… hard!” he says again. And like three more times.

The movie is so bad that even the finale, where a character is possessed by the ghost of a Vietnamese hooker and goes into sub-Charlie Chan Asian voice, bores rather than offends. I love risque racial humor, and I’m the first guy to laugh at a cataclysmically inappropriate racial joke. I just sighed through this sequence, watching actor Tony Cavalero humiliate himself. It’s like the film’s directors (it took two guys to direct this shit, and four to write it) were trying to get revenge on him.

You may be tempted to watch Ghost Team One. You may think it looks like a raunchy comedy that, when viewed while properly stoned, will be funny enough to warrant the VOD rental. It isn’t. It’s a nightmare. It’s a movie that is designed to make you question the very value of your life. I barely made it all the way through Ghost Team One. Don’t make my mistake.

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