Ganjasaurus Rex (1987)

Sometimes I have to wonder just what it is that I get myself into when I pick up some of these movies: do I really want to do this to myself, I mean? Is it worth the confusion? The mental anguish? The questioning of my own sanity?

Just look at some of the movies I've watched - not exactly a collection of Roger Ebert's best-loved classics, I know. And believe you me, I am well aware that whenever I pop one of these babies into my player, I'm not doing myself any favors, neuron-wise.

However, I manage to persevere, plod through, strengthen my resolve and usually end up victorious, and with a really great review in the end.

With the subject for today, however, I find myself in a quandary. Ganjasaurus Rex was definitely made for a small microcosm of particular film-goers. And I don't think I'm one of them.

But first, a new word for today:

GANJA (from Sanskrit: गांजा gañjā, meaning "hemp"); refers to any number of preparations of the Cannabis plant intended for use as a psychoactive drug.

This is an important word to remember if you're to understand any of the plot I'm about to unravel here. Because Ganjasaurus Rex is about a ravenous, rampaging dinosaur revived and hungry for...marijuana.

That's right. This is not just a movie that tries to ape Godzilla but also caters to the cultivators and/or partakers of cannabis. Wacky weed. Those funny little cigarettes that make you feel funny. You know?

Thank God this is a comedy, since the main audience for this thing will already be giggling uncontrollably as it is.

Anyway, try as I may to explain why this movie was made pales in comparison to the actual product itself. Because, much like marijuana, Ganjasaurus Rex will cause the innocent viewer to hallucinate.

So let me give you the munchies...I mean PLOT...and let you decide for yourself.

Taking place on the "Lost Coast of California", thereby certainly protecting themselves from any upstanding citizens who may be waiting to litigate or seize, the story begins with brothers Frank and Cloud...yes, Cloud, because that's what people in California name their kids, you know...discussing their plans to begin cultivation on a virulent new strain of marijuana which is being developed from seed by a "chemist" friend of theirs named Honey (and yes, she's a female), who promises a plant the size of a tree.

This strain is named "cannabis sequoia", because the resulting plant will be the size of and look most like a tree and thereby go unnoticed by the police copters who go out searching for the plant life in the area to chop down and cart away.

Whether we want to or not, we get to know a lot about the characters who live in this area. Hippies as it were, up in the hills and at one with nature because, you know, that's how a lot of them there native Californians are - eating naturally, living naturally and communing with God's country and all. Unfortunately, they are all extremely slow-witted, slow-acting, mellow (wonder why?) and more-or-less played for comic effect. It's too bad that the cast seems to be made of actual hippies and not actors, but I'm getting ahead of myself....

With these events taking place in the Eighties, the American Gummint is the collective "bad guy" of the piece and many military and local governmental figures converge on the area, swearing to carry out the plans of Ronnie and Nancy, winning one for the Gipper, as one character puts it. These characters, like everybody else in this film, are played broadly and crassly, eating red meat and wanting to stamp out the wackus weedus.

This leads to a several minute segment of camcorder footage of DEA copters swooping in and agents seizing plants and building up bonfires of captured plants. I know for a fact that this is camcorder footage only for the fact these are the only segments of the film where a time code is plainly seen in the corner of the screen.

Then the plants are burnt, stoning residents and DEA agents alike, and inadvertently awakening a long-dormant lizard-like creature off the coast that, unlike its source material, doesn't torch as much as it's looking to toke.

About this beast: cheap as this project is, no one would be looking for Phil Tippet-level work here, but would you expect a hand-held stationary toy dinosaur being moved across a blue screen of the hilly California area or huge close-ups of a dinosaur head with big eyes, glowing red nostrils and a dopey smile on its face? And, just like the screenplay, this monster is toothless. Being an herbivore this makes sense, but this bad boy is not just any regular herbivore - he's after...say it with me...cannabis sequoia.

See how it all ties together?

So scientists are called in; one Professor Sprog and a Japanese assistant whose voice is, of course, dubbed into perfect English. Did I mention this was a comedy? Right. Anyway, these men of science explain that the creature is named Tyrannosaurus Herbivorous Ganjasaurus Rex (giving us 50% more than we need for a title): a creature whose main existence is cued into eating as much cannabis as possible. This is a misunderstood creature (like Godzilla), brought about by man's inhumanity to man (like Godzilla) and wreaks destruction and mass hysteria (like Godzilla) as it consumes illegal herbs and never for a minute looks like anything more than an immobile plastic toy (like...well, never mind).

Plans are put into motion to stop the menace by trapping it, luring it away from land or some other such nonsense, which usually ends in poorly-shot, badly conceived comedic confusion. The hippies, however, have it all covered and know just what needs to be done. They ARE the good guys, after all.

But what will happen next? Will Ganjasaurus Rex be defeated? Will the DEA harness the power of this creature and destroy marijuana nationwide with its help? Will a huge blow-up Godzilla doll have a prominent scene during the course of this film? Will there be a featured Jamaican-toned song called "Living in a Police State" played as the DEA footage kicks in? Can Ganjasaurus Rex, at 88 minutes, feel as long as Little Dorrit?

The answers to these questions are yes, no, twice actually, yes - it's a good song too, and more like Little Dorrit coupled with Berlin Alexanderplatz.

No members of this cast would be confused with actors (of movies, TV, stage or street corners for that matter); in fact, I will go out on a limb to say that everyone on screen not only doesn't have an SAG card but probably had group inhaling contests before the camera rolled, if you know what I mean and I think you do....

This script, written mostly by the cast (which means improv was the call of the day) and as directed by Ursi Reynolds proves to be an amiable goof made by people who no doubt thought at the time that it would be fun to make a movie that cast them in a favorable light and poke fun at authority at the same time. Ganjasaurus Rex is never for a minute serious and makes no important statements in its 88 minutes. All that it does, in fact, is show what can be done on the absolute barest of budgets and the most minimal of resources.

Not much.

Yet this is not really that bad of a film. Hold on, now - I know I've been bashing this film for several paragraphs, but Ganjasaurus Rex has fun for all its faults, foibles and follies. Like I said earlier, I don't understand a lot of it and I can't put myself in the place of the protagonists because I've never been so blissed, so to speak. But this is, as movies go, (God help me) entertaining. Even though there are no actors onscreen in the common sense, there are people who are having fun, which in itself is infectious and at least makes the experience of watching Ganjasaurus Rex less painful than what it could have been.

The music is good, all by regional artists and pretty darned catchy in and of itself. And even though the title creature is clearly a hand-moved toy (the hand in question even being shown prominently during one "animated" scene) it lends itself readily to the overall tone of the film itself.

I've never smoked marijuana, cannabis, or whatever you may call it. I do, however, know a film that is goofily entertaining when I see it. And Ganjasaurus Rex is most definitely such a film.

This is something that can be found for sale online for anywhere as cheap as $25 and as expensive as $1000. Any price is cheap, though, when it comes to entertainment value, inadvertent entertainment or otherwise. Grab it up, and keep some snacks nearby - they'll come in handy eventually.

One final note: for all of Ganjasaurus Rex's attitude of sticking it to "The Man" and making a stand against oppression and all, there's STILL an FBI disclaimer at the end. That's almost as good as Reds, a movie about transplanted American Communist John Reed, being largely produced by Barclays Mercantile Industrial Finance.

Just as capitalism gets the last word in a film about Communism, so does the US goverment get the last say in a film about hippies, dinosaurs and illegal drugs.

So this is a comedy. Yep.