How High
dir. Jesse Dylan
Universal Pictures
On paper, How High sounds like a disaster.
Method Man and Redman star a pair of stoners who earn perfect scores
on a standardized test after smoking some really high-grade marijuana.
So they go to Harvard and wacky, pot-filled hijinks ensue. But
when the intelligence-enhancing pot disappears, the boys face academic
probation and must scheme to stay in school.
Thankfully, How High isn't a rap skit writ large, nor is it a
vanity project with flat jokes. Instead, it's a funny, clever film —
albeit one that masquerades as a dumb stoner comedy —
about the proletariat making fools of the bourgeoisie.
With a lesser cast, How High would not be quite as much
fun. Method Man and Redman play off each other well, and the latter
has a real talent for physical comedy. Fred Willard's extended cameo
as the horny chancellor of Harvard is hilarious, as is Spalding
Gray's short turn as a militant African-American studies professor.
Obba Babatundé does well as the humorless dean, keeping what
easily could be a cartoonish character from becoming one.
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The film subverts its genre simply by appealing to more than the lowest common denominator.
The moment that perfectly
captures its charm comes about halfway through the film: Redman,
shocked about his poor grades and completely oblivious to a semester's
worth of learning, exclaims mournfully, "How could I fail women's studies? I love bitches."
How High benefits from some other inspired gags and jokes just
as sublime and ridiculous as Redman's line. Sure, the requisite
shenanigans take place: Some university property is defaced, and the
protagonists conspire to get a few authority figures stoned without
their knowledge. But there's also an amusing riff on the "Girls
Gone Wild" videos and a really entertaining extended sequence revolving
around the corpse of John Quincy Adams.
How High occasionally lacks congruence,
making the film seem a collection of sketches rather than a cohesive narrative.
The gross-out humor is sometimes a little much, making the
crasser parts of American Pie look awfully tame.
Some of the elites, such as the crew captain, are little more
than caricatures, which is something a film as witty as this should be able to avoid.
But these are all minor missteps. How High isn't the smartest
movie in the mulitplexes right now, but it lacks the desperation
of most silly comedies. It's refreshing to see a lighthearted
film that relies on genuine antics and solid humor rather than
trying to sell laffs through blatantly outrageous behavior.
— Stephanie Kuenn (smkuenn at gmail dot com)
