When I first heard that a movie called "Blues Brothers 2000" was going to be made, I immediately thought it was a bad idea. Now that I've seen it, however, I've revised that opinion somewhat. It was a terrible idea. A disastrous idea. An atrocious idea. An all-around horrible and ghastly idea. The beginning sequence of the film, which shows Elwood getting out of prison after 18 years, discovering Jake is dead, going to see the Penguin, and learning that Curtis is also deceased is a period of my life that I'm never going to get back, and I'm bitter about it.

There was none of the snap and sparkle of the original. Spontaneity was out the window, with many of the same old jokes being reused and recycled. You know how toilet paper made out of recycled products is just never as soft as, say, Charmin? Well, that's how this movie felt. There was even one police officer, who, after a car chase that ended with the vehicle upside-down, got to remark, "My watch is broken." Lines like this, hauled out of mothballs and shamelessly reused, were typical throughout the film. Instead of Illinois Nazis pursuing the brothers, this time we were introduced to the Illinois Russian Mafia. Instead of the country singers who chased them in a Winnebago, we were treated to a group of White Supremacists. And, last but not least in this long line of parallels, instead of two brothers we had four by the end of the movie, all of whom could not make up for the loss of one Belushi.

Apparently trying to harness the boundless appeal of the "Home Alone" movies, the powers-that-be decided to put a kid in this movie. Buster is an orphan who is given Elwood as a mentor and somehow ends up on the stage, dressed in the uniform black suit and sunglasses. He doesn't have a bad voice, but he's just another unnecessary annoyance in an unnecessary movie.

John Goodman is completely uninteresting as Mighty Mack Blues, a bartender-turned-singer that Elwood also picks up in his attempt to put the band back together. He does have the one funny line in the movie, though (you'll know it when you hear it -- it should be the only moment when the audience laughs through the whole bitter experience), so I suppose I can't damn him entirely.

Lest I sound more bitter than I mean to, I do need to point out that the music is good. Better than good actually -- it's great. Ray Charles does not return, but Aretha Franklin does, joined by a host of others like B. B. King and James Brown. The Blues Brothers Band was also good, although the lack of Belushi's voice was definitely noticeable. The soundtrack is worth a listen, and I found my foot tapping in spite of the abuse that my other senses, focused primarily on the waste of film involved, were suffering. There was even a musical number by James Brown after the credits, put there for no reason other than the fact that they shot it and didn't have anywhere else to put it.

To recap: we have lots of uninspired, unimaginative, and uncomfortable acting; a plot that isn't even recognizable as such; a bunch of people who look like swelled images of their former selves; and some really good music. I can't advocate spending money on the ticket, even for a matinee, but I will recommend the soundtrack.

When the last explosion was done and the last car chase reached its crashing end and the last bit of James Brown died away and I was walking out through the parking lot, I have to admit that I brushed a little tear from the corner of my eye. I wasn't moved by the movie or saddened by the fact that it was over, but at that moment the full reality of John Belushi's death hit me like it never has before. One of the Blues Brothers is dead, and we're never getting that particular bit of lovely schtick back again. Rest in peace, Jake Blues.