The Worst Film Ever

Although it has its amusing moments, in eneral the plot does not convince.

It's funny, it's tense, it features two great performances from two actors and the director expertly creates a web of odd tension where you actually don't know what is happening for the majority of the run time.

It really made me laugh, but for some moments I was tearing up because I could relate so much.

With a cast of people that you've never heard of Abar, The First Black Superman is a film right out of the 70s, those fashions and those Afros date it as nothing else could. It's a story that I thought was going to be a social commentary then it became surreal science fiction.A black family named Kinkade where the father is a research scientist moves into an exclusive all white neighborhood where there's nothing subtle about their bigotry. Offering his protection to them is a guy named Abar who is a young community activist and looks as fit as the Rock is now. They suffer a lot of despicable acts and one family tragedy and all because dad wants to be near his work.As it turns out his work is developing a super being and Abar is recruited as the prototype. I think the creators of this film were inspired by Gary Lockwood's performance in that classic Star Trek episode where a pair of the Enterprise crew were zapped going through a nebula and get God like abilities. That's what Abar gets and you can judge for yourself how wisely he uses them.I'm not sure where this takes place. Hints that it's a southern location are in the story, but the photography screams California. The acting here is on a grade school level. The mad scientist looks like a bad version of Morgan Freeman without a 10th of his abilities.Strange, but very bad movie.

A black doctor and his family move to the fancy white suburbs and are met with incredible racism from his new neighbors. He also gets some grief from some in the black community for 'abondoning his people'. You really feel sorry for these people. Eventually, the hatred for these people is so severe that the racists are even willing to kill. The family's only apparent hope is a local black power group--but even they can't protect them 24-7. Ultimately, their hope comes in a VERY bizarre form--a brand new black superhero...Abar! It was very surprising that the first hour of the film was, despite the cheapness, very compelling. Addressing racist attitudes in the fancy suburbs was a very timely idea---though I will be the first to admit that it was handled with all the subtlety of a 2x4 upside your head! It went way too far in handling this, though the emotional toll on the family was well portrayed. As another reviewer pointed out, it was good at addressing the justifiable frustrations in black America. Unfortunately, after the first hour, it literally looks as if they threw away the script and started over--and the entire film changed so dramatically it seemed insane. And, considering where it went next, insane is the best way to describe it!! Yes, Abar becomes a super-hero of sorts after getting a miraculous potion from the doctor. With it, he has amazing mental powers--powers to help prostitutes beat up their pimps, black men to stop playing dice and get educated and other ways that force his community to clean up its act. And Abar's hero outfit? It's a blue leisure suit! Now this sounds stupid and bizarre. Well, it is bizarre but surprisingly non-stupid and interesting throughout. For a cheapo film with seemingly nothing going for it, it's surprisingly fun to watch and has some amazing depth.

From the looks of Abar, the First Black Superman, not a trace of progress was made from the civil rights movement of the 1950s and 1960s. That doesn't stop Frank Packard from making his "statement" on race relations between whites and blacks. This is such a clumsy and badly made film, but not for one moment was I bored. At times I was flabbergasted, or yelling at the screen at a character's actions (or, more often than not, so-called performances), but never did I want to turn it off. It's a classic of fun-bad movies, only hurt somewhat by the fact that its main character doesn't turn into the First Black Superman until an hour into the film! (who really REALLY doesn't look like how he does on the re-issued cover, "In Your Face", titled for some God-awful reason).Abar is part of a black resistance, of sorts, but he only comes into play with the life of Dr. Kincade and his family when the good doctor and his kin move into a 200 grand house - in the suburbs! Oh, Whitey doesn't like that, and of course there's a "welcoming" committee waiting outside the home with signs like "N-word" this and so on, and of course Kincade doesn't feel too comfortable at it, especially when one white woman yells at one of his kids. So he gets Abar to help out as security, but it unfortunately doesn't save Kincade's quick-talking (or mumble-mouthed) son from getting run over by another Whitey in a car. Vengeance must be had! But can Kincade take the serum he's developed for rabbits to gain psychic powers? Will Abar, a volatile and possibly psychotic being with huge muscles and bad 'tude be able to take it? Tune in next week as...Oh, this is such stupid stuff. Some of the dialog is bad enough, but the performances, oh man. It's like watching an off-off-off-off-off Broadway production that is really the Community theater of a basement in Queens putting on Blaxspoitation. The lead actor, J. Walter Smith, makes me pine for Rudy Ray Moore's expert ability. His job here ranges from wildly, badly over-the-top to unnecessarily whispering every line. The kid actor playing Kincade's son, Tony Rumford, speaks his lines like he wants to rush away to go to the bathroom. And the director makes Tobar Mayo (Abar) into a kind of black El Topo in the last twenty minutes with a series of eye-close-ups that should make him SUPER BAD ASS NEGRO-MAN-THING, but is really just as silly as anything else.So why recommend it? Because it is so funny, and so tasteless that it's hard to resist. It's the kind of movie that liberally (I mean inappropriately, like at the end and at a critical point midway through) uses clips from Martin Luther King's "I Have a Dream" speech. Did they even get the rights to this? Maybe for the good of all African-American kind they persuaded the King estate to use the clips for good use... such as highlighting a story of racial oppression where there's either dirty ghetto that can't be saved or white suburbia that won't have one black person anywhere near them. I almost hope there was a series (or at least a sequel) of these movies. Perhaps once was enough, but I can at least say it's a unequivocal guilty pleasure. It makes other campy blaxploitation subtle by comparison.

Successful and respected black doctor Kenneth Kincade (the hopelessly wooden J. Walter Smith, who comes across like a poor man's William Marshall) and his family move into an affluent California suburb populated by grotesquely hateful and intolerant evil snobby white jerks. Said jerks not only protest in front of the Kincade's house and leave a coffin on the front lawn, but also string up the family's pet cat after they brutally butcher the poor kitty. Dr. Kincade enlists the aid of bold and fearsome black militant Abar (bald, charismatic Tobar Mayo) and his followers to protect his family. After his son gets killed by the vile racists, Dr. Kincade injects Abar with an experimental serum that makes him indestructible and gives him special psychic powers. Sporting an immaculate blue suit and red shirt, Abar decides to clean up the streets: Among the good deeds he performs are turning wine into milk, making a purse snatcher return his stolen item to its rightful owner, forcing a bunch of graffiti artists to repaint a wall they just defaced, and, best of all, unleashing a hurricane and plague of rats on the wholly deserving Caucasian villains. Boy, is this one fabulously freaky and stunningly clunky micro-budget blaxploitation oddity: Frank Packard's plodding (mis)direction, James Smalley's talky, yet genuinely offbeat and unpredictable script, the authentically grimy inner city Los Angeles locations, the endearingly amateurish acting by a no-name cast (Roxie Young as Ms. Kincade cops the grand booby prize; check out her big crack-up scene after discovering the mangled body of her murdered son), Ron Garcia's rough, static cinematography, the infrequent ineptly staged action scenes, the funky 70's TV cop show-style score, and the totally unexpected from out in left field uplifting conclusion all make this deliciously loopy doozy one of the single most gloriously weird and original jaw-droppers produced during the 70's blaxploitation craze. Must be seen to be (dis)believed.