Everything I know about movies is because of my parents. They are big “movie-quoters,” and I, essentially, had to learn their language to survive at the dining table. They will watch anything at least once, but talk about it for the rest of their lives. They developed most of their tastes in 90s-2000s New Jersey, where director Kevin Smith created most of his movies: “Clerks” (1994), “Jay and Silent Bob Strike Back” (2001), and the infamous “Dogma” (1999). His movies, along with many others at the time, fall under the “stoner comedy” subgenre. As a child, I often visited Jay and Silent Bob’s Secret Stash, Smith’s comic book shop in Red Bank, NJ. I thought it was just another store, decorated with oddly specific, weird memorabilia. I was enveloped in the world of the stoner comedy before I even knew what that meant.
A “stoner comedy” must meet at least one of two qualifications: the main plotline must revolve around some sort of intoxication, or the general public must deem the movie as “a film to watch while high.” Every generation has its own stoner comedy. It started with comedy duo Cheech & Chong’s “Up In Smoke” (1978). Then came “Fast Times at Ridgemont High” (1982), followed by movies like “Bill & Ted’s Excellent Adventure” (1989), “Dazed and Confused” (1993), and “The Big Lebowski” (1998). The 2000s brought the boom of the stoner comedy, with “Superbad” (2007), “The Hangover” (2009), and the “Jump Street” duology. In the 2020s, stoner comedies seemed to fade into the background, despite the genre remaining beloved. It seemed as if the only films being made were the “Dunes” of the world, where joy and whimsy were pushed to the side in favor of doom and despair.
Until “Pizza Movie.”
Pizza Movie (2026) is a Hulu original that follows loser roommates Jack (Gaten Matarazzo) and Montgomery (Sean Giambrone). After a particularly unfortunate ambush led by the kings of campus, a mysterious drug falls from their dorm ceiling. They take the drug out of desperation for change, but the side effects are intense. The two friends find out that the drug has six phases: “Make the Baby Like It,” “No Bad Words,” flashbacks, “The Ol’ Switcheroo,” “Nothing But the Truth,” “We Are All One,” and a final (explicit) nightmare phase. In order to stop the six phases of hallucinations, they must eat a combination of dairy, nightshades, and bread (i.e., pizza). All the while, militant R.A.s, led by Blake (Jack Martin), attempt to send misbehaving residents to another dorm hall. With the help of their ex-best friend Lizzy (Lulu Wilson), they must navigate their absurd trips to end the nightmare they are living.
The movie features several faces that might be familiar if you reside in the same neighborhood of pop culture that I do. If I had a nickel for every time this movie featured an actor from a T.V. show set in the 80s that my family watched religiously, I’d have two nickels – one for Matarazzo of Stranger Things, one for Giambrone’s The Goldbergs. Disney Channel’s Peyton Elizabeth Lee plays Ashley, Montgomery’s eccentric crush. Sarah Sherman (Saturday Night Live) makes a cameo as the amateur college chemist who creates the drug. My personal favorite appearance in the movie was comedian Caleb Heron’s character, Sidney. Heron plays a new R.A. in training, who has come back to school at “31 years young.”
I have seen “Pizza Movie” five times since its April 3rd release, with four different audiences. Every group loved this movie as much as I did, if not more. I guess you could chalk it up to relevance, as most of the viewers were college students like myself. The atmosphere of the college campus was represented accurately, albeit exaggerated. For example, it’s safe to say that F&M has its own Gralk Hall – a dorm building that is dreaded more than the rest. Sure, ours is not four hours away, but our student body does talk about living there as if it is a death sentence. In another scene, an R.A. dramatically questions a resident as a bowl of mac and cheese explodes in the microwave. Arguably, the most relevant aspect of the movie is the feeling of living at school for the first time. We all want to make friends, to be accepted. Now, we have to start over. We have to create a circle of friends from scratch. Not only that, we have to live while surrounded by these people. We are far away from home, under the watchful eyes of our peers. So, like Lizzy, Jack and Montgomery, we crave external validation like it is its own kind of drug.
Will Pizza Movie be nominated for any Academy Awards anytime soon? Absolutely not. Still, there is something so joyful about it. It’s obvious that every person had a blast making it, and that sentiment bleeds through the screen. I enjoyed it because they enjoyed it. Comedy is one of the most difficult arts to master, and Pizza Movie seems to have done just that. Why must every movie be a “film,” forcing the audience to reflect on some greater social issue? Why can’t one of the main characters be a butterfly, who is revealed to be voiced by Daniel Radcliffe in the final act?
At long last, my search for a 2020s stoner comedy is over. “Pizza Movie” takes the cake (pizza?) as the reigning champion for our generation. The movie’s absurdity is hysterical, especially for a college-age audience. With a star-studded cast and a wild premise, it’s impossible to look away. I believe Letterboxd user OroseB put it best: “Movie so good it restored my faith in the film world. Fun and unique movies are back.”
Freshman Sarah Henches is the Features and Investigative Stories Editor. Her email is shenches@fandm.edu.