This is Zed Wilson. Chances are you’ve never seen him before, but go ahead and get used to that face now because as soon as the right person stumbles upon a little indie-horror film called Trippin’, this dude is gonna be everywhere. At first he’ll probably just appear in some Doritos commercial or something (or maybe Gamefly.com…Jack Link’s Beef Jerky would also work). Then, when he pops up in some horrible direct-to-DVD National Lampoon’s teen sex romp as a stoner frat guy extra with one line (something like “Yeah, man…they’re like…special brownies”), you’ll be like “Oh, hey, that’s that dude from those Burger King commercials”. But it won’t stop there, friends. Suddenly he’s a convenience store clerk that remembers what color shirt a suspect was wearing on Law and Order. Then he’s a bumbling waiter that spills wine onto Vince’s date’s dress on Entourage. Then he’s the old high school friend that accidentally ruins Michael Cera’s chance to impress a mousey indie-rock girl in any given Michael Cera movie. Finally, when he can’t fulfill his obligation to host the Oscars because he’s just been nominated as King of Movies, America will understand and smile politely as Wayne Brady tries to keep the show moving along.
So now that we’ve established that Zed Wilson is actually the subject of Madonna’s “Lucky Star”, what of the movie that shall serve as his vehicle to the unquestioned domination of all media?
Well, based on the cannabis-laden cover and marijuana pun in the tagline, I was pretty apprehensive about Trippin’. See, I hate stoner comedies. I absolutely fucking abhor them. With the exception of a few gems (Jay and Silent Bob Strike Back and Pineapple Express for example), comedic moments in the majority of stoner comedies never progress beyond “BRO THIS MOVIE IS HELLA FUNNY THEY ARE DOING DRUGS LIKE I DO DRUGS LOL”. However, writer / director / forgivable beret enthusiast Devi Snively decided to take the not often traveled high road (that wasn’t a weed joke) by eschewing the “Let’s hotbox Air Force One and watch the president drop it like it’s hot” crap and instead, amazingly, used her characters’ proclivity for substance abuse as a means of furthering a coherent story. I know – nuts, right? (The only exception to this is a few token “fwahuhuh…drugs are good” jokes from our buddy Zed, which is somehow exculpatory due to his affability.)
Despite being made on a budget thinner than DJ Qualls, Trippin’ fucking delivers. People die, frogs are smashed, spaghetti is eaten, and it all looks great. Especially the spaghetti. (I’m super hungry.) There’s even a pretty awesome hallucination scene that, for the first time ever in the history of hallucination scenes, I actually wish was a little bit longer.
The main problem with Trippin’ is this: You’re probably not gonna get to see it. At least not for a while. It’s very slowly and sporadically making its rounds on the indie-horror festival circuit so unless you live in a college town, the chances of Snively and her cohorts dropping by is slim. However, if you’re lucky enough to live somewhere that caters to no-budget film fests, keep an eye on the downtown telephone poles for a flyer. Or just go to the Trippin’ site and check the blog. Or both, if you’re the cautious type.
I give Trippin’ four quaaludes out of a inadvisable five quaaludes.