The Stoned Age: A Very Bitchy Movie Review
This movie must have had a budget of $100 and some stolen Ox 45. Whoever said this was better than Dazed And Confused was clearly paid to do so.
This was a failed attempt at stoner/rocker humor by dumbass movie executives who obviously don’t know what they’re doing. They were trying to portray a demographic that they don’t even understand. Of course I resent the portrayal of Metalheads as horny, drug addicted Neanderthals. The main characters’ entire Modus Operandum is weed and sex. If you mistake my righteous indignation for defensiveness, just think how obnoxious it would be if Hollywood presented Country fans as Bible-thumping bigots, Hip-Hop fans as uneducated thugs, or Punk Rockers as ornery brats.
Every single character is an irritating combination of pathetic loser and selfish prick. Even the love interests are slutty, backstabbing harpies. The requisite hot blonde chick is first introduced as a skank demanding drugs from the protagonists. When they say they don’t have any Crank, she just keeps going down the list of outdated street terms for meth that the screen writer probably learned from a Reagan-era “Just Say No” after-school special. The gross misuse/overuse of slang was completely distracting, but since the plot was so predictable it didn’t really matter anyway.
Not only was it predictable, but it also required a ridiculous suspension of disbelief. There are two– Count ’em, TWO — “Hot chicks” that everyone is after. A whole herd of heshers break the law, risk life and limb, and generally go out of their way for a mere CHANCE to bang the babes who aren’t even that bodacious. I understand that cartoonish, ridiculous situations have a place in Metal comedies (Ex: Wayne’s World, Bill And Ted). But this is fucking stupid.
Although I hate the movie as a whole, one scene stands apart, a paragon of exquisite stupidity that would never be seen outside the film industry: One protagonist, Joe, gets his ass kicked by his partner in crime, Hubbs, for listening to an 8 track. According to Hubbs, “Don’t Fear The Reaper is a pussy song.”
… Said no one ever! Even people who don’t consider themselves Metalheads recognize that track as a masterpiece. It’s fuckin’ classic. What kind of idiot would even write that line in a script? Falser words were never uttered.
The sad attempts at humor constantly miss the mark. The only saving grace was the constant Blue Oyster Cult references, and even those got old after a while. Let me spare you the misery of watching and just sum up the script for you:
“Hey man, let’s find some chicks so we can get laid, dude! Bro! Bodacious! Awesome! This weed is skank! Those bitches are fine! We’re using slang! Bro!”
This single pentagram is only to acknowledge the soundtrack, which includes Black Sabbath, Deep Purple, T-Rex, Ted Nugent, Foghat, and of course, copious amounts of B.O.C. Yeah, the soundtrack is the solitary good part. Only one fucking star out of five.