A new low-budget comedy horror has emerged, boasting a budget so small it could comfortably fit in your back pocket—$19,000, to be precise. Madeleine Chapman claims it might just be the best local release we’ve seen in years, but I can’t help but wonder if she was paid in kombucha and hand-rolled joints for that opinion.
To be fair, I wasn’t thrilled at the prospect of watching The Weed Eaters. As a self-proclaimed horror coward (the last time I was this terrified was when I accidentally opened a thrift shop box filled with taxidermy), I had pigeonholed this film into the dreaded “minuscule-budget stoner horror” genre. The last stoner film I enjoyed was Friday (1995), and frankly, I’d rather be conscripted into a marathon of horror movie reboots than sit through another one.
The night before its premiere at the New Zealand International Film Festival (NZIFF), after a couple of beers—let’s blame peer pressure—I reluctantly agreed to attend. With my fingers crossed and eyes closed through the scarier bits, I experienced the kind of joy at a movie theater I hadn’t felt since I saw a squirrel audibly fart in a children’s movie years ago. The Weed Eaters skyrocketed into my list of favorite local films, thanks to its sheer audacity and overall ludicrousness.
Here’s the crux: four pals (if you can call them that) embark on a New Year’s getaway to a shed in rural North Canterbury, only to stumble upon some ancient weed that effectively turns them into hungry cannibals. It’s an “oh, is that all?” setup just waiting for disaster, and it’s the perfect scenario for a 48Hrs Film Festival short. But lo and behold, it’s not just any festival; it’s the grand debut feature from the hilariously talented crew known as Sports Team. With a collective résumé rivaling that of an indie rock band, these dreamers penned, directed, and acted in this cinematic marvel. What you see on screen is like a media studies project that somehow survived a tornado and ended up winning a Cannes award.
Their resourcefulness raises a critical question: what can you achieve when you don’t wait on permission or funding? Sure, they had the advantage of parental support (Thanks, Mom and Dad!), but they’ve managed to create something comparable to local features that cost around a million dollars—or so. It’s almost a crime to see a movie that costs less than the average Kiwi’s last supermarket bill yet looks like a visual feast, thanks to Sports Team’s knack for music videos. Every frame drips with intent—whether through golden hour magic or bonfire chats that truly illuminated their creative prowess.
As the movie kicked off, I braced myself for horror yet was greeted by the genuine banter between Brian and Jules (played admirably by Teppett and Connolly). Their dialogue felt so real it could’ve been cribbed from a live social media rant. For all the cannibalistic antics, I found myself immersed in a relatable slice of Kiwi life—a treasure in the otherwise cringe-worthy realm of local cinema. Connolly and Kean faced off with flawless precision, diving into the psyche of millennial friendships like seasoned experts from a reality TV show.
Clocking in at a brisk 80 minutes, the film felt just right. Sure, some scenes could’ve languished longer for the desired effect, but I was grateful they treated my attention span with tender care. This, my friends, is far more comedy than horror—so much so that I only needed my safety blanket (a.k.a. my beer) three times. And can we talk about the pacing? Once a joke lands, the film moves on faster than a flatmate when it’s time to clean the dishes. Score!
The only hiccup? The ending felt slightly like a well-worn shoe that’s trying too hard to escape the closet. But honestly, if that’s the only blemish on an otherwise delightful experience, who am I to complain? It was still a triumph on many levels. Watching The Weed Eaters made me nostalgic for the early works of Peter Jackson—specifically, his more gruesome endeavors. Could this crew up their budget and come out with a full orchestra in the next? Or would they simply lose the charming mayhem that endears the cult to indie fans?
No matter what’s next on the horizon, you can bet I’ll be following along and contributing to their Boosted campaign. And in the meantime, I may very well challenge my aversion to horror and snack on The Weed Eaters on repeat—after all, it’s destined to become a cult favorite, even if I need to keep my eyes mostly closed to enjoy it.
The Weed Eaters is screening in Wellington on August 16, Dunedin on August 22, and—oh wait, Christchurch is already sold out. What a surprise? That’s the power of peer pressure working in reverse.
