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Busted Tees


2004, dir. Chris Stokes
90 min. Rated PG-13.
Starring: Omarion, Marques Houston, Jennifer Freeman, J-Boog.

Review by Terry Baker

Friday night was like most Friday nights in our nape of the neck. We went to our local eatery to have a nice meal, several cocktails and take in the ambience of suburbia. The doorman served us with a smile and promptly found us seats. Our waiter served us our food and spirits in a prompt manner. Personally, I was served a nice serving of BEEF and a few rounds of Jack and Coke. Sure, it’s a pretty mundane event, but it serves me well at my age. Per usual, the barkeep served some pretty strong drinks and I found myself a little on the intoxicated side upon leaving. I was in the mood to continue the mundane Friday with even more mundane acts: rent a movie and drink in our shabby but serviceable abode. The local video hut was serving the same old fare, none of which piqued my interest. Perhaps fault of the hefty serving of whiskey, I chose a film that even the video clerk had to question. Though confused, she rang me up, I served her with a few bucks and she served me my movie. Once home, I served myself a nice glass of whiskey and served the DVD in the DVD player, ready to get, well, served.

How’s that for a drawn out intro. Fuck Charles Dickens!

Werd what ya heard ‘bout the serve y’all! It’s off the chain fosho. Ok, I can’t keep that shit up. Hell, I rented this to laugh at its idiocy and, frankly, I laughed more than I presumed I would. You could put two and two together and figure out that YOU GOT SERVED is WEST SIDE STORY with a gangsta lean. Its about time someone picked up where BREAKIN' 2 left off!

The film lives up to the gober out of the gate with the opening dance battles and Electric Boogaloo choreography. We quickly meet David and Elgin, two close friends that run the dopest dance crew in South Central. “D”, “El” and crew like to serve up the dance frenzy by squaring off against other crews in Steve Harvey’s warehouse of proverbial dancing cockfights. After squaring off in a medley of head spins and unison pop and locks, the audience cheers for the winning crew. The winners get served with the purse, and the losers get SERVED! What a concept. This apparently happens all over the world, especially in the donkey streets of South Central L.A. Ah, if only everyone could settle scores with dancing and lay the drive-bys and peeboland violence to rest.

But alas, there is no shark if there is no jet. Enter Wade and his Orange county crew of crackers that aim to serve our heroes up a nice glass of…something. Wade and crew come across like a mix of N’Sync and The Offspring. It’s hard to take them seriously, but apparently, they can bring the gurnt on the dance floor and issue a challenge. In a nutshell, the crackers win and drama ensues. Of course, we know we’ll see these cracka ass crackas later due to the fact that everything in the film, plot, dialogue, et al, is one big cliché. Seriously, The two tight friends and crew become enemies and break up only to get back together because a little pipsqueak friend gets shot up. The crew pulls a “do it for Johnny, man!” and reunites to beat the Crackas from the O.C and win the big dance off in the end, thus serving them and settling the inner turmoil with hugs and whatnot.


Hell, I do have to admit some of the dancing in the movie was fun to watch at times, though I could’ve easily turned on MTV to see the same fare. A few times my jaw dropped at the acrobatics. Might’ve been a Stockholm syndrome kind of thing, though. I’m not going to defend my renting this. I know all of you have a secret pining for BEAT STREET! I know most of you can pull off a few moves of Turbo!

Oh, I’m sure you’ve scene the trailer with the guy skidding across the floor on his forehead. Darrin’s Dance Grooves won’t teach you that shit, yo! And as goofy as this movie is, it did inspire a great South Park episode. Skip the movie and just wait for a rerun of that.


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