He’s big, he’s bad, and he’s babysitting: 19 least essential entertainments from 1993

1. Mr. Nanny
Tuba-voiced pro wrestler Hulk Hogan was a ubiquitous media presence throughout the ’90s, trying his hand at everything from music (1995’s Hulk Rules) to restaurants (the terrifyingly punctuated Hulk Hogan’s Pastamania!) despite showing very little talent for anything that didn’t involve leg drops. Unsurprisingly, the Hulkster also attempted to become a leading man, starring in a TV show (the Knight Rider-meets-Jimmy Buffett TNT staple Thunder In Paradise) and a string of family films distinguished by bizarrely Byzantine plotting. Breaking the high-concept record set by 1991’s Suburban Commando, Mr. Nanny stars the Hulkster as a former pay-per-view superstar suffering from wrestling-induced PTSD who takes a job as a bodyguard, only to find himself babysitting a couple of rich brats and battling New York Dolls lead singer David Johansen for control of a missile-defense system. Though the movie flopped at the box office, making less than half of its modest $10 million budget, it didn’t deter Hogan from making two more mind-boggling kids’ movies, Santa With Muscles and The Secret Agent Club (both 1996).
2-3. Joey Lawrence, Joey Lawrence
Shaquille O’Neal, Shaq Diesel
Albums by celebrities of questionable legitimacy and/or musical acumen are nothing new, but ’93 produced a perfect one-two punch of dubious vanity project LPs. Hot off his “whoa!” fame, Joey Lawrence dropped Joey Lawrence, a New Jack Swing record that birthed the forgettable “Nothin’ My Love Can’t Fix.” NBA newcomer Shaquille O’Neal launched his much-too-long record career with Shaq Diesel, a rap record featuring a number of awkwardly boastful and tenuously basketball-related songs like “(I Know I Got) Skillz,” and “Shoot Pass Slam.”
4. Look Who’s Talking Now
The original Look Who’s Talking was an unexpected smash, making 160 percent of its estimated $7.5 million budget its opening weekend and going on to be the fourth highest-grossing film of 1989. In the original, Bruce Willis voiced the thoughts of Kirstie Alley’s son, Mikey, and in the inevitable 1990 sequel, Mikey had a sister, voiced by Roseanne Barr, and a friend, voiced by Damon Wayans. The series lurched to a third installment three years later, only without the voices of Willis or Barr, because the kids were now old enough to speak on their own. So the movie took its shtick to the family pets, a pair of dogs voiced by Danny DeVito and Diane Keaton. Critics rightly savaged the film, which climaxed with a ludicrous scene where Alley fends off a wolf attack, and it ended up grossing just 7 percent of what the original made. Good thing for Travolta that Quentin Tarantino came calling not long after.
5. The Chevy Chase Show
Amid the well-documented “battle for late night” of the early ’90s, a common joke was that every man, woman, and child in America would soon have their own talk show. That joke found an unlikely punchline in Chevy Chase, whose jaw-droppingly awful Chevy Chase Show debuted on Fox in the fall of 1993—and was cancelled after five weeks. (Chase was informed of the cancellation at his 50th birthday party.) The aging SNL and Caddyshack alum was touted as a game-changing alternative to the likes of Letterman and Leno, but a stiff delivery, zero interviewing skills, and a reliance on shameless “Weekend Update”-like news segments made Chase seem more like Judge Smails than Ty Webb. Following savage reviews and the not-so-indelible sight of Chase awkwardly dancing with a jorts-clad Goldie Hawn, Fox execs gave The Chevy Chase Show a swift mercy killing, leaving the star to promote his latest film, Cops And Robbersons, and late-night viewers to warm up to another struggling newcomer, Conan O’Brien.
6. George
Former heavyweight boxing champion George Foreman underwent a curious transformation in the late ’80s and early ’90s: Returning to the ring after a stint as a Baptist minister, the once stoic fighter reinvented himself as middle-aged comeback kid and sunshiny commercial pitchman. So it’s easy to understand why Tony Danza (a former boxer himself) and TV journeywoman Norma Safford Vela would’ve seen a potential sitcom lead in this new version of Big George. But Foreman failed to sell himself to viewers as an ex-champ teaching troubled youth a little about boxing and a lot about life; despite a November sweeps debut as part of ABC’s popular TGIF bloc, George bounced around the network’s schedule before meeting its demise in January of 1994. It didn’t take long for the show’s star to get back on his feet, however, as the year of George’s cancellation also saw Foreman applying his name to a product that would make him roughly $200 million: the George Foreman Mean-Lean Fat-Reducing Grilling Machine.
7. Billy Idol, Cyberpunk
Released amid the public’s growing fervor for all things “cyber,” Billy Idol’s Cyberpunk was a concept album that was based, according to its press release, on the premise that “science and technology are becoming the new weapons of change, and who better to arm you for the future battle than Billy Idol?” Judging by its hostile reception, the audience of 1993 could think of plenty of people. Idol’s ambitious gambit was meant to bring the aging punk back to the bleeding edge, using DIY computer recording techniques and a story steeped in the writing of William Gibson. Unfortunately, although Idol bravely immersed himself in the burgeoning cyberpunk movement on the Internet, and even insisted that any journalist approaching his album had to read Gibson’s work, his own, quickly apparent technological illiteracy made him an easy target not only for critics, but for actual cyberpunks who felt Idol was a poseur. It definitely didn’t help that the songs were so poor, with dull, repetitive tracks such as “Wasteland” containing laughable gibberish that would make the cast of Hackers cringe (“In VR law, computer crime / So sublime”). These were interspersed with pretentious spoken-word dialogue, and a techno version of The Velvet Underground’s “Heroin” provided the album’s best argument that the future is indeed a hellish dystopia. Idol deserved some credit for anticipating technology’s role in the production and distribution of music, but immediately upon release, Cyberpunk felt as ironically, pitiably obsolete as its accompanying VHS and floppy disk.