Night of the Living Heads - Bloody Disgusting!

Night of the Living Heads

Although they possess their own surreal sense of humor that can prove elusive to non-smokers, most stoner movies still manage to convey a certain amount of energy, a high-spun sense of creativity that can be appreciated by everyone. At the very least, a stoner movie should be fun to watch while stoned. The abysmally shitty Night of the Living Heads––a stoner flick about a strain of evil-tainted Jamaican bud that transforms the living baked into flesh-eating zombies––insists on being a lumbering, time-sucking bore, even (or should I say, especially) for the sober. At 84 minutes, it’s at least an hour too long.

A shady Jamaican connection delivers a rare brand of voodoo weed to a local dealer, who then proceeds to distribute it among a dozen or so obnoxiously loud, increasingly forgettable characters. Night of the Living Heads doesn’t have a protagonist so much as it has 12 annoying individuals who each get offed by a zombified stoner in a Ziploc-bag-and-ketchup kill scene. I guess the voodoo weed would be the antagonist. And you, the audience, would be the victim of this plodding, zero-budget mess.

The 40-minute set-up is interminable to sit through. I don‘t know if you can attribute it to stringent misogyny or latent homoeroticism, but much of the dialogue in Night of the Living Heads consists of boorish, woman-hating bullshit. Imagine being forced to spend 40 minutes watching a special Italian edition of Yo Mamma hosted by Wilmer Valderrama and Tony Sirico from The Sopranos. Everybody’s mother is derided as easily fist-fuckable, everybody’s girlfriend is a penis-eating whore, and there sure is a lot of talk about one another’s genitals. There’s even a scene where a father walks in on his son beating off in shower, which lasts about 10 seconds too long. Weird shit.

Even when the voodoo weed finally (FINALLY!) starts turning the tokers into zombies, the movie somehow, incredibly, refuses to get any better. Characters are killed seemingly at random (which is probably for the best since they were pretty interchangeable anyway), and there’s no fun in the carnage. And that’s the biggest problem with Night of the Living Heads. It’s no fun. There’s no energy, no genre spirit. Low-budget horror movies don’t have to be perfect to be successful, but it helps if they’re creative, if they at least TRY to be a good time. Night of the Living Heads is a maudlin, lazy piece of filmmaking, a stoner movie that might appeal to ‘heads with terminal cancer, at best.