It was May of my junior year of high school, and I popped a 10mg THC gummy outside of the movie theater. At concessions, I bought a soon-to-be-needed water bottle and could tell the edible was kicking in. I sunk into my seat for Doctor Strange and the Multiverse of Madness, relishing in the opening-night buzz of the audience and the lobotomized applause for the Marvel Studios intro—a sheepish ritual I gleefully partake in. The rising effects of the edible restored the same childlike wonder and zealous hype I felt as an elementary schooler going to see a Marvel movie opening weekend.
The film was, by all accounts, bad—a confounding mix of Sam Raimi’s gonzo visual style and plot elements that felt like complete corporate mandates to include. But high as a kite and semi-ironically participating in the audience’s “oohs” and “ahhs” at the many cameos, I was able to appreciate the film’s jumbled mishmash of a plot.
Edibles are my preferred consumption method of cannabis at the movies; the minimum 3-hour high is perfect for avoiding a groggy comedown during the last act of a film. I usually take somewhere between 7.5 and 15mg for a hard-hitting, long-lasting high. Going above that can have mixed results. For instance, a 20mg edible knocked me out in my comfy recliner seat minutes into a 3D showing of Avatar: The Way of Water. I woke up high and disoriented to a flying battle dolphin during the last act of the film with my 3D glasses still on. That same sleepiness can occur with indica-dominant strains of weed, so I’d recommend seeking out sativa for the movies. But if you find the dosage and strain that work for you, pop the edible when you arrive, and it should hit a few trailers in.
The bizarre, comically long presentation of movie trailers is a highlight of stoned theater-going. Experiencing a half-hour of these two-minute packaged doses of dopamine filled with maximum stimulus is a wonderfully dystopian way to enjoy content. Pop song needle drops, cringeworthy one-liners, and stylized editing to the beat make these the perfect high-production value, sensationalist brain-rot when you’re baked.
Vape pens are milder than edibles, and unless you hit the pen more in the auditorium (an act I surely condemn—unless you’re at an empty screening), you’ll be relatively sober after forty minutes. Smoking a joint is great for shorter movies—you’ll be blasted when you enter the theater. My first experience at the historic Brattle Theatre here in Harvard Square was the 88-minute Talking Heads concert film Stop Making Sense; lighting up right beforehand made the crazed musical odyssey infinitely enjoyable. But joints’ quicker comedown might make them less optimal for a longer film (over 2 hours).
Buy more candy than you think you’ll need, especially if you’re going with similarly altered friends who you know will want some, and stick with one bottle of water for the inevitable dry mouth. There’s nothing worse than having to pee during the finale of a movie and missing the best part, an agonizing feeling only amplified when baked, so be sparing with liquids.
I cannot say how all movies currently showing in theaters would fare stoned, except Dune: Part Two, which might be one of the greatest films to watch high, ever. Watching it at the largest IMAX screen in New England on fast-acting sativa edibles was a nearly religious experience. For a blockbuster of its size, it is impressive how much bonkers psychedelic imagery is present, with trip sequences and ominous visions to spare. Witnessing the jaw-dropping scale of the film’s production design, which uses every possible technical element to immerse the audience, is a transformative treat that only improves with THC. A central plot element in Dune is spice, a universal commodity and psychedelic drug that powers space travel, which perhaps tells you what you need to know.
Some of my favorite experiences at the theater in 2023 were aided by cannabis. Last year saw vivid surrealism enter many mainstream movies, from Barbie’s candy-colored dreamworld to the acid-dipped production design of Poor Things. Beau is Afraid inhabits a nightmarish bad trip anxiety POV, and Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle: Mutant Mayhem has lots of fun with its sketchbook animation. These are all fantastic films on their own, but their sheer wonder is endlessly enhanced by weed’s psychoactive effects.
But all movies that promise a stranger-than-life, dreamy quality are not built the same. The Boy and the Heron lulled me to sleep after several parking lot cart rips (similar to many Wes Anderson films). Both Wonka and Ant-Man and the Wasp: Quantumania were too transparent in their sanitized commercial appeal to be made better baked; weed can sometimes lead to watching movies in an overly critical and analytical way, killing suspension of disbelief and making them appear as simply actors on a set playing make-believe.
I also understand the fear of getting stoned at the theater for those less experienced with marijuana. If it’s one of your few times experimenting with weed, being trapped in a dark room with so many strangers might induce unwanted anxiety. If so, there’s nothing wrong with sparking up and enjoying movies from the comfort of your dorm, but this can sometimes be a tricky affair. For me, that comfort makes it too easy to fall asleep, and I always end up watching the first ten minutes of a film and conking out if I’m high by myself in my room. For instance, I watched the first half of Dazed and Confused (which is my definite pick for the greatest movie to watch, well, dazed and confused) five separate times before finishing it.
Paul Thomas Anderson’s druggy mystery comedy, Inherent Vice, is a more recent stoner hit, one that is worse sober because of how loosely its characters are strung together in the screwball narrative. Generally, the subgenre of Los Angeles-set neo-noir offers some of the best pot-smoking cinema. From Coen brothers classic The Big Lebowski to the smoke-tinged detective work in The Long Goodbye, or even Andrew Garfield’s disgusting conspiracy solving in Under the Silver Lake, these films are drenched in a Southern Californian intrigue inextricable from the reefer.
Other home-viewing recommendations include the Harold and Kumar series and anything Seth Rogen has written or starred in, although leave out the Steve Jobs biopic. TV shows Atlanta, 30 Rock, The Chef Show, and I Think You Should Leave all provide appeal. Atlanta operates entirely on surreal dream logic, intended to be watched stoned, 30 Rock’s humor is so dense and absurd that it loops back around to making sense high, The Chef Show will amplify your munchies (do not watch without food), and I Think You Should Leave is a loud, ridiculous time.
Ultimately, most things will be appreciable on some level when fried. Weed won’t fundamentally change anything about a film or show, it will just allow you to enter its world more thoroughly. It’s not well-suited for movies that require work on the audience’s part to piece things together, like some of Christopher Nolan’s films. But if you want to soak in the visuals, hyperfixate on random plot elements, and get lost in thought enjoying a movie with a hundred strangers, consider indulging in a different kind of gummy bear the next time you go to the theater.
Anonymous will be watching 2001: A Space Odyssey at the Brattle Theatre this Saturday, for no particular reason.