Have you ever had a dream that you were so sure was real? Was Elvis there, but old, grizzled, and with a walker? Was there also an old black man calling himself JFK? And was there some redneck mummy starting trouble in a small Texas nursing facility? If so, then you likely weren't dreaming at all, but watching Bubba Ho-Tep, the Second Greatest Story Ever Told. (We'll let JC keep his props for the first.)

That's right, folks. Bubba Ho-Tep is my new favorite movie.

But before I get into why it should be your favorite movie, too, I'd like to discuss the reactions I've gotten from others who've watched this film. They are firmly in one of two camps: those who absolutely love it, and those who say "that is the single stupidest thing I've ever seen." There is no middle ground; it's just Axis and Allies and never the twain shall meet (unless Mark had a doppelganger that none of us know about). Wherefore this vast disparity of opinion? Why does this movie turn us all into veritable Hatfields and McCoys? It must be the same thing that enables some people to go away cold from Death Race 2000. But the way I figure it, any movie that can polarize people has got something going for it. I mean, think of some of the other great films that were steeped in controversy: Some Like it Hot, The Last Temptation of Christ, and that hippie version of Romeo and Juliet that showed Romeo's bare butt (your English teacher probably fast-forwarded past this part). Of course, the controversy surrounding those films had mostly to do with the reigning puritanical value systems of the time, and not with whether a movie was fundamentally stupid (as claimed by the jaded detractors of Bubba Ho-Tep). But still. You get my point.

Loosely, the premise is this. A geriatric Elvis and John F. Kennedy are living in a small Texas nursing home. What's that you say? Elvis and JFK are both dead? Think again, faithful friends. Sometime in the late 60s, the King apparently got fed up with the vagaries of fame. And as he explains in a hilarious deadpan narration worthy of Hunter S. Thompson, he traded lives with an impersonator named Sebastian Haff in order to get a bit of peace. This Sebastian fellow turned out to have a problem with drugs—bet you figured that out already—and bought the proverbial farm before the two could switch back. But Elvis didn't mind. He happily impersonated himself for thirty years, doing show after show until one fateful night when he broke his hip gyrating. Elvis's best friend in the nursing home is John F. Kennedy, an old black man played by Ossie Davis, who claims to have had his brains replaced with bags of sand after the shooting in Dallas. Pictures of Jackie Kennedy and Lee Harvey Oswald litter his end table, and he frets constantly that a deranged Lyndon Johnson is coming to get him. When Elvis points out that, "uh, no offense man, but President Kennedy was a white man," his friend whispers, "I know. They dyed me this color."

This is pretty weird stuff, I can hear you saying. But one of the weirdest things about Bubba Ho-Tep is that its depiction of mortality and aging is dead-on. Anyone who's been in a nursing home will recognize what happens to the two friends, because it's the same thing we're all afraid will happen to us. From the dismissive glances of a neighbor's daughter to the incessant condescension of the hospital staff ("now Elvis, it's time for us to do that thing with the rubber glove again"), it's apparent that society has decided these two men no longer have much worth. So it's no surprise that when strange happenings begin to take place in their sleepy-creepy nursing facility, Elvis and JFK are eager to put their minds to solving the mystery. (You see, my recalcitrant curmudgeons? There is a bit of substance here, after all.)

Elvis and JFK first suspect that something is wrong because of the sudden acceleration in the mortality rate. The first person to go is a cantankerous old lady who has just stolen the eyeglasses from a woman in an iron lung. Several more follow. The illustrious pair embarks on a bit of bumbling, low-grade detective work, examining some hieroglyphics on the bathroom wall and flipping through books with titles like "A Man or Woman's Guide to the Soul." Through these haphazard efforts—as well as a close encounter with a giant scarab beetle—they come to discover that a resurrected mummy has invaded their nursing home. This foul malefactor preys on the residents in the night, sucking out their souls through the most convenient orifice. Icky. One night Elvis and JFK witness the mummy himself, passing through the hallway. It wears a cowboy hat and gunslinger's outfit, and walks all stiff and bowlegged, like the four-thousand-year-old corpse of Jack Palance. When Bubba Ho-tep finally speaks, big stone hieroglyphs appear on the screen with subtitles beneath them. A nice touch, indeed.

If you have read this far, what I reveal next should not surprise you. Old Elvis is portrayed by Bruce "I put the camp in" Campbell, and I honestly believe he was born to play this role. As his presence should indicate, this film is bizarre, dark, and funny as crap on a sundae. It's half Army of Darkness, half Coen brothers, and half Young Frankenstein. Also half The Good, the Bad, and the Ugly. And maybe half Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas. That's 250 percent of fun! I know I'm wearing down your resistance, here. Just imagine if you will, our famous elders beginning their preparations to fight for their souls. A smoky, noodling western score plays in the background as they collect their rags, their lighters, their cans of gasoline. Then comes the glorious moment of truth, the moment when our two heroes—Jack Kennedy with his electric wheelchair and Elvis with his walker—finally go into battle against that sumbitch Bubba Ho-tep. It is an epic worthy of Homer. (Keep in mind Homer was blind.)

At any rate, I hope I've persuaded a few swing viewers, cause, no kidding, Bubba Ho-Tep is my new favorite movie. And if you are a true patriot it will be yours, too.

Ars gratia artis. Elvis for the sake of Elvis.