What can you say about a movie in which a man gets stabbed in the neck with an afro pick and a Leprechaun quotes Martin Luther King, Jr. within the first five minutes? At least it’s not directed by Uwe Boll? Actually, this is above average for a direct-to-video urban horror film, with decent acting and makeup and the type of sense of humor that’s necessary in a film called Leprechaun in the Hood. (Still, it relies a bit too much on stereotypes and gags of squares talkin’ jive: the square Korean store owner, the white record label rep, even the Leprechaun himself: “You must be trippin’,” “She’s the bomb,” “The Lep is the real O.G.,” etc.)
The story revolves around three wannabe rappers in Compton (Can’t we have wannabe doctors for once?) who steal the Leprechaun’s gold from gangster — er, “gangsta” — Mack Daddy (Ice-T, who somehow parlayed this into Law & Order), who “rightfully” stole it in the ’70s. Amongst the booty is a magical flute that the trio uses to hypnotize people into liking their music (perhaps explaining Gwen Stefani). For some reason, Coolio walks into one scene and just stands there, enjoying their music; I suppose to appease the massive Coolio fan base. It’s hard to root for our heroes when they’re such bad rappers and can only get people to like them through trickery. As such, you don’t expect their dreams to come true, but the way in which the writers leave things unresolved seems lazy. As it is, they just throw in a scene with the Leprechaun — ugh — rapping through the end credits.
