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*SPECIAL EARLY REVIEW* 

When James Remar appeared onscreen during the black and white intro to the "Pineapple Express" I smiled.  There's something about Remar that evokes a particular coolness; a character actor so distinct-looking, with such an engrossing voice that you only wish a long-overdue titular vehicle built for him would come his way.  I also wished that this black and white intro would serve a primary function or contribution (minus its location) to the narrative behind "Pineapple"; all it does is inform the audience that weed makes you hungry and high.  Thanks Bill Hader.

And so begins this placid story, only interrupted by over the top action scenes and few memorable one-liners ("Let's get ready to suck today's dick!")--which is a significant surprise considering it being the screenwriting follow-up to "Superbad" for star Seth Rogen and co-writer Evan Goldberg.  On a footnote, it must be known that the catchy "Paper Planes" tune that immortalized the theatrical trailer isn't even used in the feature.

But the film has so much potential!  Even as I went home that day, I kept replaying the talent behind the film: Judd Apatow!  Gary Cole!  The return of Rosie Perez!  Hell, there's even a seductive idea behind having Rogen's Dale Denton character date a chick (Amber Heard) still in high school!

All down the drain! 

More disappointing for me is that this was acclaimed Director David Gordon Green's ("Snow Angels") first big Hollywood-sized vehicle.  Shit.

But let's talk about what's good.  James Franco plays down his red carpet good looks in order to give us the convincing pot dealer that is Saul Silver.  He runs around with greasy long hair and red flannel pajama pants with a look of consistent curiosity on his face; a suitable performance for someone who is stoned out of their brains for most of the running time.  But the big two saving graces for "Pineapple" aren't its marquee stars.

First off there's Craig Robinson.  You might remember him as the scene-stealing nightclub bouncer from "Knocked Up."  Here he plays Matheson, one of two hitmen chasing Rogen and Franco, who sort of looks like Mr. T's gay nepew, fully equipped with sleeveless shirts and a pair of British Knights shoes.  He knocks it out of the park; we need to see more of this guy.

Then there's Danny R. McBride, my unsung hero.  I saw him in "The Foot Fist Way" earlier this year and the more I think about that film, the more it grows on me.  Here he lends that same sort of wannabe teen bully trapped in a adult man's body syndrome to Red, a former pot supplier to Saul.  The running gag with Red in this film is that he never seems capable of dying--no matter how bad his bodily injuries are.  By the time the film winds down and Red mumbles, "I don't know if I'm seeing things because I'm so high or because I don't have anymore blood in my body..." the film earns its first truly deserving gut-busting laugh.  And when that memorable line is said over the morning after breakfast, it makes odd sense: Doesn't the morning after an adventure of being high always seem funnier because you finally realize just how dumb everything you did was?

Kind of like this movie.