A Bug and a Bag of Weed J. David Gonella

A Bug and a Bag of Weed J. David Gonella
Featuring the sort of fellows that most of us wish would contract some sort of painful venereal disease and disappear, who deliver dialogue that seems like something the Dungeons & Dragons crew might believe jocks would say, A Bug and a Bag of Weed is at best annoying and at worst enraging. Case in point: the writer of the film is also the lead character, who complains of credit card debt and an inability to pay for film school, natch. While many profess the need to "write what they know," scenarios such as the aforementioned are so painfully transparent and, to be frank, sad that it detracts from any "artistic integrity" the film might possess, which, in the case of Weed, is absolutely none. Perhaps this annoyance could be overlooked if the direction wasn't so desultory, the acting so stilted, the writing so hackneyed and the puerile homophobia so overt. But, hey, at least ten minutes of the film is dedicated to watching clothed strippers dance from every angle possible, including the classic "up the skirt" view — classy. Oh, and the only black characters in the film are expert weed dealers. Well done, whitey. The plot follows three loser buddies led by Peter (Chris Cuthbertson) whose banal days as sales clerks at Super Duper Computers are interrupted by the arrival of Frehley (Sebastian Spence), a wild and crazy high school friend who leaves a duffle bag full of weed behind when he splits town for an orgy. Inevitably, the guys try to sell the weed in order to pay off their debt, which involves some pot-selling montages and the owner of a gay bowling alley (Nigel Bennett). This becomes complicated when the original owner of the marijuana (Ian Tench) wants his product back. No special features are included with the DVD, so folks will have to settle for the sheer wittiness of hot boxing a Volkswagen and using the code "69" as an indicator of "hot chicks" for amusement. (Domino)