J.C. (1972)

(On Cable TV, May 2021) As far as irreverent New Hollywood-era premises go, you’ve got to hand over some kind of special award to J.C., which reimagines Jesus as an outlaw LSD-imbibing biker. But a wild premise doesn’t make for a good movie, because the execution is almost completely limp. Ill-served by a script that really can’t find any meaningful parallel between Jesus and a reincarnation as a biker, the film limps through uncharismatic acting, low-rent cinematography and unfocused directing not really enlivened by action sequences that briefly make the film come alive. There’s a frustratingly undeveloped kernel of an idea here, but writer-producer-star William F. McGaha stopped at an idea and never thoughts about what it would mean, or what it could represent. J.C. is a dud by another name — and further proof that you can’t judge a film by its premise.