Movie #3: Half Baked (1998)

Deciding to smoke weed was one of the worst decisions I ever made in my life. Starting freshman year at Ithaca, it annihilated my motivation to take full advantage of college. Making movies and seeking out new experiences became less of a priority than smoking blunts in dorm bathrooms. And like a Xenomorph facehugger, it soon attached itself to all activities, impossible to separate the two: Watching something? Gotta get high first. Making dinner? Smoke a bowl so it tastes better. Going to sleep or waking up in the morning? That tough, man, take the edge off! While I never got busted by the cops or got ripped off by dealers, I just got tired of the lost weekends, gained pounds and disappearing social life after gaining a reputation as a stoner.

Anyway, I had a moment of clarity after hitting a version of rock bottom and haven't touched the stuff since December 28, 2014. Story for another day, maybe.

So why did I chose "Half Baked" today? Mainly because I wanted to watch a comedy after the events of the past 24-hours/week/month/fucking year. In the honeymoon period, I would hear from smoking buddies about how funny this film is, "but yuh gotta watch it high, maaaaan!". Seeing it on Comedy Central never appealed to me, with the commercials and pain-staking edits that go into making an R-rated film appropriate for all ages. Cause when I used to watch media stoned, my ritual required not wasting a minute of my high on anything non-essential; much like how heroin users start injecting intravenously so they don't waste a grain of powder from smoking or snorting - it's being conservative!

After pregaming with some decaf tea and raisins (good shit, yo), I fired it up on Netflix and was surprised at the underlying anti-weed message throughout the film. Chappelle's character gives up the drug to live happily ever after with the love interest (aptly named Mary Jane) and it's treated as a victory. They nailed the Different Types of Users Montage (I identified with Janeane Garafalo's "I can only be creative while stoned" a little too much) and the much-hyped Jon Steward and Bob Saget cameos did not disappoint. Despite the guys living in the most brightly-lit apartment you can shake a Billy Bong Thorton at, there were some solid comedy beats that prompted a few hearty guffaws. It's dumb in the logic department, but it's supposed to be. I would never watch this movie ever again.

While I never knew anyone as weed-retarded like Jim Breuer's character (only guy who came close always insisted on calling joints "doobies" without a hint of irony), I turned it off wondering why this was so heavily praised. Maybe it wasn't. Maybe it was just on TV a lot. Maybe when you're in the depths of a marijuana binge, anything that in the slightest assures you that smoking is all laughs and munchies is like a beacon in a storm. But when the rain clears and the waves calm, you'll find yourself on the boat in the middle of the ocean. And one more hit or just another dimebag isn't going to get you to shore.