Jay Rohr
The Weed Hacker Massacre exists in a special realm. After all, this comedy horror hybrid inhabits that strange space between inspiring and amusing missteps. This is the kind of movie that can motivate an independent filmmaker, fill out a beer and a pizza evening, or ruin a night out. Everything depends on the audience.
The movie starts with an interesting premise. In fact, it starts with three or four ideas all of which do tie together once the film finally gets going. In a small town, ages ago, two brothers started a farm. One wanted to grow hemp, but murder as a rebuttal won the day. Over a century later, the farm is the largest marijuana grower in the United States. As such the town hosts a music festival which attracts college kids. When the prize seeds needed to grow the next generation of ganja are stolen, the locals go on a vigilante killing spree. Things quickly spiral out of control, so the mob blames the massacre on Willie Wonder, an aspiring theater progeny with magnificent hair, as well as a regional menace known as Poker Face.
Almost a decade later, the urban legend of those brutal killings has naturally attracted Hollywood filmmakers. Shooting a remake, quasi-sequel at the scene of the slaughter, a sketchy producer drives a determined director batty. However, little do they know the survivors of the first killing as well as the real perpetrators will soon complicate things way more than any bounced check could.
The Weed Hacker Massacre essentially has roughly four starting points. These include the bloody birth of the town, the first massacre at the music fest, the start of the doomed film, and the return of the original killers. Fortunately, it isn’t hard to keep track of the narrative. There’s plenty of exposition to keep the viewer informed of every plot point. Yet, that doesn’t make delivery smooth. Statements move things along as narrative chunks get dropped on the audience by graceless blocky editing.
Initially, this is arguably intentional. The Weed Hacker Massacre does desire to be a kind of satire aimed at shoddy remakes capitalizing on well-known ideas. As such, it functions as a simultaneous parody and homage of famous fright flicks, especially The Texas Chainsaw Massacre (1974). Even if one accepts that some of the clunkier expositions are mocking similarly poor info dumps in other movies, the one-note joke gets a bit dull over time.
Comedy is tricky. The Weed Hacker Massacre contains a variety of hit-or-miss moments. Punchlines which don’t land flop for a few reasons. The performers don’t always have the best comedic delivery, or a joke seems like it must’ve sounded better on paper. Still, though the ratio is low, there is a sense of humor running through the film. That can make it ideal for anyone inclined to a beer and a pizza evening where the movie in question isn’t that serious. As a horror comedy, The Weed Hacker Massacre might not mind a little MST3K style teasing. That said, it wasn’t made for the Rifftracks crowd, despite the fact it may do its best with such an audience.
Some of the jokes that do land are delightful. The flashback for Poker Face’s origin is amusing. There’re also a handful of running gags about pretentious performers, armadillo meat, and sleazy producers that deserve laughs. In addition, the observations about shlock horror money grabs are accurate.
One of the best aspects of The Weed Hacker Massacre is its willingness to embrace absurdity. Writer Ray Spivey takes advantage of the ludicrous potential inherent in any horror story to weave in humor. From bullet proof hair to insane locals, The Weed Hack Massacre leans into mirthful madness.
The cast is a mixed bag. Several central characters come across amateurish, though it occasionally plays into the parodic portions of the film. Connie Green (Storage Locker) as Aunt Jackie Gunter is one such example. It does give those characters a certain genuine authenticity but can clash with smoother performances. Bobbie Grace (Fear the Walking Dead), for instance, is solid as the exasperated director Rene Carpenter. Allen Danziger, who famously played Jerry in The Texas Chainsaw Massacre (1974), is sharp as a local sheriff. David Trevino hits the ground running in his first feature film as Willie Wonder.
Director Jody Stelzig does his best considering the low budget. A lot of the film’s cinematic styling is clearly limited by expenses. However, The Weed Hacker Massacre keeps everything in frame. That’s to say there are a few instances where clever shooting is making up for budget limitations. Although it’s hardly a master class on low budget techniques, The Weed Hacker Massacre has one or two scenes aspiring auteurs might find useful. That said, it would’ve been nice to see a few more such instances.
This is a movie the horror community is likely to be the most forgiving of. Genre fans are often appreciative of filmmakers who clearly set out to put a picture on screen and managed to achieve that goal. There is something admirable about the effort. Anyone outside that fandom might not be so amused. Part of that is because The Weed Hacker Massacre is a horror comedy relying on a certain knowledge of the genre, though many of the jokes are meant to stand on their own.
And despite some amusing puns alongside one or two instances of genuine laughter, the gags have a hit/miss ratio skewed towards misses. It’s surprisingly bloodless for a movie about people getting shredded. The mixed quality of the cast is a double-edged sword, making some sections better than others. Overall, The Weed Hacker Massacre isn’t going to be for everyone. However, it may fit nicely in a niche viewed by those who get why “You can’t piss on hospitality” is funny.
