Two potheads find themselves on the run from a vengeful drug lord. “Bad Boys... if everyone was stoned,” offers writer/producer Judd Apatow.

CRITIQUE

According to a fashion industry catchphrase, “pastels are the new black.” By applying that sentiment to the current state of cinematic comedy, Seth Rogen is the new Jack Black.  (And Black was the new Nicholson.) Hey, it's a “persona” thing. Same character/different name inhabits each film, offering a package deal of mannerisms. Take 'em or leave 'em.

It seems that contemporary moviegoers are inclined to accept the former. After bopping around in supporting geeky roles, Rogen has finally found his audience — and they're happy float him above the mosh pit of bland leading men as their new loveable doobie-puffing dufus. (Watch out, Owen Wilson!)

The point of Pineapple Express, like every pot flick, is to set up some ridiculous goal for the primary underachievers to contend with. Whether or not they make a slam dunk is far less relevant than the inane hijinks that ensue in their desperate pursuit. The difference between this film and, say, an old Up in Smoke is that Cheech & Chong were clearly world-class stupid even before the drugs kicked in.

Pineapple Express opens with a B&W 40s-era prologue: military research on the affects of marijuana. A lone soldier inside a sealed room tokes up while being closely observed by the upper brass. His goofy reactions horrify the General, who immediately orders the experiment be shut down and the very land they're on to be sold. Hilarious and having absolutely nothing to do with the rest of the movie (“but it seemed like a good idea at the time, man”) this prologue delivers potent stoner humor, right out of Firesign Theater. The rush diminishes when the real film rolls over to 2008.

As slacker/process server Dale Denton, Rogen injects a bit of cleverness into his daily routine by continually dressing in an array of professional uniforms (UPS guy, doctor, etc.) to fool his victims into accepting their court papers. His dream is to be a radio talk show host. He rehearses for the career move by talking back to the radio while high.

Through a variety of stoner-movie contrivances, Dale witnesses a drug kingpin (Gary Cole) slaying a rival with the tacit assistance of a crooked policewoman (Rosie Perez). Eventually it occurs to Dale's shake 'n baked brain the the half-smoked evidence left behind in his hightailing rush — a joint of “Pineapple Express,” i.e. primo weed — might lead the kingpin back to his dealer Saul (James Franco) and ultimately himself. So Dale and Saul go on the lam. And what a meandering lam it is!

Other than Cheech and Chong (or Harold & Kumar, for that matter) this duo resembles Hope and Crosby during the height of their “road movie” career. One is wisecracking and high-strung. The other is mellow, mellower and melowicious. Okay, that's not a real word but you get the meaning. As one might expect, the plot grinds to a halt more often than it proceeds. It's as if the writers applied the rules of [children's board game] Candyland to the story instead of the standard Sid Field paradigm for screenplay plotting. Throw in the vengeful kingpin, his incompetent thugs (for if they were competent, there'd be no movie, duh) yet another idiot dealer (Danny McBride) drug-dealing Ninjas, and a tasty babe (Amber Heard). Shake, stir, deep fry. Instant stoner flick!

The dudes get lost in the woods, deal weed to middle school kids when they run out of money, drive down the road in the wrong direction, miraculously survive a machine gun shootout... and yet the single most unbelievable aspect is... the babe! More specifically, it's the fact that a high school senior is dating — in love with!!! — a tubby pothead. This is Rogen's revenge for all the assholes he grew up with who called him a loser. But even in the wide, forgiving context of a stoner flick it's still unbelievable.

The budding friendship-under-fire between Dale and Saul is the true heart of Pineapple Express. Without James Franco's rich and warm performance the flick would be belly up. It can be argued that had it not been for Sean Penn's “Spicoli” (Fast Times at Ridgemont High) or Brad Pitt's “Floyd” in True Romance, Franco would have less to draw from. Nevertheless, Saul is a far more appealing character than Dale. He's the kind of guy whose disconnected synapses are like a state of grace instead of arrested development.

Even his career “goal” to become an architect and design playgrounds sounds more altruistic than Dale's self-serving shock jock aspirations. In the thick of things, viewers begin to realize it is Dale — whose caustic observations and witless slaptick seem to be the film's driving force — who makes a bigger jerk of himself. Saul's solutions to their nagging problem of imminent death are simplistic but well-intended.

Though the foundation for Pineapple Express is built upon Rogen and Franco's fuzzy-headed incompetence, Gary Cole shines as the kingpin by ad-libbing a litany of ridiculous street names for the über-chronic, or chastising his teenaged son for listening in on the business phone line while he makes death threats to his rival. Unfortunately, the evil drug lord's revenge occupies the last third of the film as the dudes are captured and taken to his underground pot-growing lair for torture and whatnot.

The ensuing escape and battle features more expended rounds than the recent Rambo movie; furthermore it's almost as bloody. Not having seen the theatrical cut, I can only assume this accounts for the unrated version. Real flesh-rending mayhem combined with comedy works just fine for Tarantino, but here it's out of place. Judd Apatow's explanation (in the “making of”) becomes clear, but his intent is never served. 

Pineapple Express definitely has some gut-busting moments, especially when they come out of the blue from actors you'd never associate with foul-mouthed drug humor.

THE VIDEO

Sony presents Pineapple Express in 2.40:1 anamorphic widescreen. Visually unremarkable, the film can't really be “Bad Boys on drugs” because the scope of its action set-pieces are simply too modest. Aside from the finale, much of the film occurs in small interior locations that hardly lend themselves to spectacle.

THE AUDIO

Sony presents Pineapple Express in English 5.1 Dolby Digital. If imitating a Bruckheimer/Bay production is part of the deal, the over-wrought sound FX mix does more damage than all the on-screen bullets. This sucker is LOUD. Dialogue is always clear. Subtitles are available for English and French.

THE EXTRAS

Audio Commentary with Filmmakers and Cast: Ramblings and the occasional insights about what went into the film.

Extended and alternate scenes: There are only a handful of character moments.

Gag Reel: A few minutes of random mishaps, most of it not very funny.

The Making of Pineapple Express: Here is a very slight BTS piece that reveals a study in contrasts: Producer/writer Judd Apatow's “anything goes... as long as it's raunchy” philosophy contrasted with director David Gordon Green (All the Real Girls, Snow Angels) and his thoughtful approach. (Well, at least on previous films.)  Apatow's weed action comedy justification doesn't make the violence any more palatable.

FINAL THOUGHT