To those whom it may concern, spoilers for Evil Bong.

Alistair (David Weidoff) is a nerd; we can tell from his symmetrically parted hair, glasses, and pocket protector. Alistair moves in with three cool bros named Larnell (John Patrick Jordan), Bachman (Mitch Eakins), and Brett (Brian Lloyd); we know they’re cool because they lift five-pound weights, eat red meat, and always ask if you’re a narc before letting you into their crib.

Our heroes are tragic figures. Bachman’s seashell busted from mishandling, he is destined never to hear the ocean again. Once primed to be a major leaguer, Brett lost his shot at stardom due to a failed “piss test.” Alistair could have been a cool bro, his new roomies ready to guide him along the path to brodom, but he doesn’t smoke weed and he read a study once that said red meat has carcinogens in it.

Luckily, Larnell stumbles upon an ad for a dope-ass bong that will really tie the room together. Always the scholar, Larnell is quick to point out that the glorious new centerpiece resembles the figure of a beautiful woman. Strangely enough, it not only looks like a woman, but has the face and voice of one as well.

As the roomies enjoy the nectar of their new purchase, Bachman and Brett engage in a deep philosophical discussion about the possibility of a bad high (and, by extension, the possibility of a bad BJ). It is a back and forth frothing with poetry, a Shakespeare-inspired bit of layering that reflects back on life itself while also appearing as lighthearted retorts. I mean, if we can have a bad high, what does that say about our ability to traverse the tumultuous world we inhabit? A world so designed to keep us grounded and tamped down by our own mortality. It’s a scary thought, but one we all need to ruminate on, compliments of beach-bro Bachman.

The deep conversation just gets deeper as the scene progresses, as Larnell places the feminine bong at the center of Brett’s coveted baseball trophies. Placing feminine within all of the masculine: there certainly is “something spiritual about it.” The bong, dwarfing the trophies in size, is clearly a symbol of feminine power, but the bong is also living in a man’s world. She makes $0.70 where the trophies make $1.00. She is ogled by the trophies, subject to the demeaning nature of the male gaze. She is used as an object of man’s desires. She is not heard as she ought to be heard. Not yet, anyway…

Truly, this is what Evil Bong is all about. The eponymous Evil Bong, Eebee (Michelle Mais), is put in this apartment to teach these misogynist pigs a lesson. Their talk of poorly executed BJs and crossing gender divides using icy brewskis needs to be curbed, and Eebee is in the right place and right time to shut them up using fantasies of a nearly empty strip club. A fantasy in which Bachman is viciously murdered, thereby killing him in real life.

In a rare moment of levity in this tragic tale of masculine hubris, Larnell’s grandfather Cyril (Jacob Witkin) comes into the picture with his smokin’ hot new wife to talk racquetball and fat dumps.

It is the kind of scene that is necessary to alleviate the bitter tension of Eebee’s ensnarement, which proves to challenge the ethos of every viewer. As much as the comeuppance of the roomies is warranted and necessary, it is still difficult to watch them fall so hard into the testosterone-fueled hellscape that they have brought upon themselves. After coming to fall in love with such characters through their camaraderie and the screenwriter’s pitch perfect storytelling, it is no wonder that we feel a pang of sadness to see them lose their way.

At least we have the strong female characters of Janet (Kristyn Green) and Luann (Robin Sydney) to fall back on, the latter of whom graces us with her amazing choreography work. She chants “I’m horny” and bounces on a pogo-stick straight into our hearts.

Janet, on the other hand, burdens the roomies with her pesky brains, but she redeems herself by thoughtlessly throwing herself at Alistair. Not since Ellen Ripley have we seen such a self-reliant and resourceful heroine in horror.

When we reach the height of horror at the hands of Eebee, the savior Jimbo (Tommy Chong), rushes in to save what is left to be saved. Just as Chong is the messiah of the stoners, Jimbo is the messiah of the movie. Having already suffered the sins of man within the confines of Eebee’s seedy strip joint, he returns to show Alistair the way to salvation through a fat bong hit, and he sacrifices himself for the good of all mankind.

In the end, the roomies see the error in their masculine ways thanks to Jimbo and the virginal Alistair, who saves his compadres by defying sexist tendencies and not taking advantage of a woman who is too intoxicated to give consent. They wake up from their strip club hell and live to see another day as changed men.

Evil Bong is a horror film like no other. It breaks boundaries, drawing in the frat bro audience just to teach them a harsh moral lesson about hyper-masculinity. The subtlety in symbolism may perhaps go over their heads: that the strip club symbolizes objectification, the bong a gender reversal that makes the phallic feminine, the Tommy Chong a Christ figure.  Like Charles Band’s other filmography from Full Moon Features, Evil Bong sports a strong moral message that is only enhanced by first rate visuals and pathos-laden storytelling.

 

As always, thanks for reading!

Watch Evil Bong on Hulu or Amazon Video.

 

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—Alex Brannan (@TheAlexBrannan)

 

Disclaimer: The preceding review was a work of satire. Evil Bong is not a quality film, and CineFiles is not liable for any emotional disturbance or time lost from watching Evil Bong or any other Full Moon Features productions. Watch at your own risk and with your friends. Evil Bongs are not real; if you or someone you know has succumbed to the horrors of an Evil Bong’s strip club, contact a medical professional immediately; you may be suffering from post-THC anxiety and/or hallucinations. CineFiles does not condone illegal drug use, but we also understand the desire to feel good and reach a higher plane of existence. CineFiles is not affiliated with or sponsored by any religious organization; if Tommy Chong is/is not your Lord and Savior, that is fine by us. Either way, he is a pretty cool dude.