review by Zak Weedman

Damn! What month is it again, August, September? Fuck! Is there a better way to start a new column in The Sinner than skipping an issue every other month? I guess that’s the best part about being a volunteer, you really can’t be fired. If you are, what do you have to loose? Not money, that’s for fucking sure. Hell, what does anyone, even Chuck Foster, expect? I made it perfectly clear from the get-go that I’m a stoner; I’m unreliable, suffer memory loss, and more than anything, lazy. Extremely lazy! Well, unless I run out of pot, then I’m reborn with demon-like energy. Hey, maybe there’s a connection. Maybe I’m possessed by the Devil, and he’s the root of all my sinful cravings. That would explain a lot about my life: drug and alcohol addiction, apathy, anger, lust, envy, greed and gluttony (munchies). Man, I need to get high and think about this one for a minute. Oh hell, this is supposed to be my stoned flick for the month, not my journal… journal? I have a journal? Shit! Wait a minute…

Floating high on a cloud now, above the stars, among the gods and Extra Testicles, I am forced to present a question to begin a review: When picking out a movie for the night, or afternoon (for the typical unemployed stoner), how do you decide on a flick? Most of us, unfortunately, use the idiot box as a guide. We’re too easily influenced by reviews from Siskel & Ebert, (whatever they’re called now since one of those corporate-fed fucks died) and every other Uncle Tom that Rolling Stone and TV Guide has on their payroll. We leave the house with "two thumbs" so far up our ass that we enter Blockbuster like brain-dead Zombies, led by mushed brains that crave mass-marketed garbage over human flesh. My point is there’s better shit out there. Try your local independent video store for a change. If the lack of mass-marketed garbage starts to make you a little dizzy as you read through films you’ve never heard of, that’s a good sign. It means your brain is starting to work again. Goddamnit! This is supposed to be a review, not a fucking lesson on picking out a movie.

O.K. the year was 1993. The box offices that year were filled with movie goers wanting to see Jurassic Park, The Nightmare Before Christmas, and Sleepless In Seattle. It’s not a big surprise that Freaked was so easily overlooked. If not for Matt Goad (friend and contributor of The Sinner) passing Freaked on to me, who knows how many more years may have passed before pot-luck landed this green nugget of a film in my bong. With an all-star cast that includes Randy Quaid, Alex Winter (Bill & Ted’s Adventure), Brook Shields, Bobcat Goldthwait and Mr. T (yea, Mr. Fucking T), you now have a few of the ingredients to make a high-niga-pie. Then add in a decent plot, an above average script, a solid soundtrack (Henry Rollins, Blind Idiot God and Butthole Surfers), and a little controversy. Surprisingly, there’s a mystery to whether or not Keanu Reeves actually played Ortiz, The Dog Boy, as an unaccredited role that united him with Alex Winter as the back cover suggest. According to "five Freaked rumors debunked" on the inside sleeve, Ortiz was played by one Heigl S. Fortenberry-Mutte, a Bavarian Sheepherder who’s life was "cut short... while trying to hook up his village’s first DSL internet connection."

To fill in a few gaps, perhaps a bit late, the premise of the movie is simple. Ricky Coogin (Alex Winter), a famous kid actor grown up, agrees to become a celebrity spokesperson for a fertilizer company who produces the deadly chemical Zygrot-24. Taking an acid-style turn, he and his sidekick are united with a protester of Zygrot-24, which leads them to Freek Land. Now enter the mad scientist Elijah C. Skuggs (Randy Quaid), who has been using Zygrot-24 to transform passing travelers into freaks for his amusement and financial gain. After being transformed into a hideous half-demon, Ricky is forced to expose this evil conspiracy and save the lives of his fellow freaks. As a bonus the two discs DVD also has some great extras, like full-length rehearsals and a couple of short films by Tom Stern and Alex Winter, co-directors of Freaked. Sound like a stoned flick or cult classic? Yea, I thought so too!

Smoke ya next month….