Oh Lord above, it’s a Blaxploitation flick from 1979. The flares are bigger, the bling is blingy-er, and the sweet ladies are sweeter than Sweet Momma Stringbean in Crow T. Robot’s seminal script for Chocolate Jones and the Temple of Funk. Rudy Ray Moore, who brought us the original Huggy-Bear-Pimp-A-Like Dolomite, is Tucker Williams, a former cop who is a famous DJ at the even more famous Blueberry Hill disco club:
After Tucker’s nephew has one major freakout after having a taste of some Angel Dust, Tucker decides to freelance as an unofficial cop/drug czar bent on taking down the whole operation from within, in between running his successful club, getting it on with his special lady, and practicing his own form of urban karate on the bad guys:
There’s some fun fight scenes, a lot of great music, and you get to see a congregation perform a prayer circle/exorcism on a teenage chick who having a bad case of the PCP wobblies. This movie is pretty anti-drug for the time, and this was even before Nancy Reagan proclaimed that we should all “just say no”. The story even uses the old Baby Roast story as part of the cautionary tale that Angel Dust should not be tried even once, unless you want to hallucinate your dead momma/your dead auntie/your familial angel of death. Better to put your weight on it, put your weight on it, put your weight on it, put your weight on it, ad infinitem, per Tucker Williams, yo.
So what was the K.C. knitting while watching this movie?