Directed by Jessy Terrero
MGM, in release
Not likely to make Bill Cosby’s must-see list, Soul Plane begins with an in-flight mishap that leads to a $100 million settlement for Nashawn (Kevin Hart), who uses the money to start the first airline designed for an “urban” clientele. The rest of this nearly plotless movie follows the maiden voyage of NWA (a moniker that seems to be the extent of the film’s wit) through a torrent of stale ghetto jokes in the vein exhausted years ago by the Wayans brothers: First-class passengers sip Cristal in a chrome lounge apparently transported intact from a strip club, while the “lower economic people” get Popeye’s and Colt 45. Coming off a memorable supporting turn in Starsky & Hutch, Snoop Dogg is sadly underutilized as the stoner pilot, serving as little more than a setup for an inept 9-11 joke involving flight classes with “the Taliban.” So how long exactly is the statute of limitations on tragedy?
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