Guilty Pleasures Vol. 12

Continuing with the never-ending list of shitty movies I happen to enjoy a little too much, here we have another 80’s gem in the shape and ever growing form of The Peanut Butter Solution. If you enjoy movies low on logic and high on what the fuck factor, you need to see this piece of shit.

Here’s what you get. A child who gets afflicted by a weird ailment known as the fright which caused him to lose all his hair even though his mom doesn’t possess the hereditary trait for baldness and he can’t even spell chemotherapy. He just got scared so shitless that his hair fell out. Much like that time you walked in on your nana taking a dump while reading your Hustler.

So the kid’s bald and nothing they do works, obviously demonstrating that a child with a hair piece looks as lamentable as an adult but without the ED connotations balding and low self esteem might hold for rug bearers. Then comes the good part, ghosts visit the protagonist (Michael) and give him the recipe for some monstrous concoction you probably stewed in your toilet by chance happening when you pretended you were a warlock or something… I’m the only one? Shit, oh well, on with the movie. They give him the recipe and guess what the secret ingredient is… here’s a hint, it’s in the title of the movie, starts with “P” and ends in “wow I can’t believe you’re actually asking yourself what the secret ingredient is”. So he adds the ingredient in a Jiffy… (product placement and endorsement here would be nice)… and…… voila, he has hair… but it doesn’t stop growing.

To add up the what the fuck factor, Michael has a best friend called Connie (oh the gender irony) and the guy upon seeing his friend’s new abilities decides that he wants to offer us the viewers something to remember for the rest of our lives so 20 years after initially watching the movie, I still remember, I still laugh, and I still ask myself how the hell this is a family movie. He applies the concoction in his nether regions because we all know that girls love a hairy sack instead of that prepubescent kiwi jewel case he calls his balls.

As if this weren’t enough, a schoolteacher who is known only as The Signor (apparently he was a failed gay New Wave artist in France) finds out about Michael’s condition and upon getting the boot from his child frightening teaching techniques, he decides that he must get his hand on Michael’s hair because he can make magical brushes that will paint anything the artists thinks of. Exactly… Then the scriptwriter realized that he needed some political message so he wrote in that the Signor also had a child labor sweatshop to make all the brushes he needs from Michael’s ever growing mane. Connie was also being used, but his pubes served mainly for sponging. Of course there’s some illogical twist in the plot where the Signor gets fooled into painting himself into a painting (oh god I love pulling off such beautiful redundancy), the hair gets controlled and Connie gets laid with a girl who’s into coughing up hair balls.

Just in case, the last sentence is the only part I made up regarding the plot of this movie and if you want to get someone a gift they’ll remember you for life and possibly offer to have you neutered, this is the movie to give someone. It makes no sense, has a what the fuck plot, is intended for family viewing yet has little or no family values and has a young Asian putting hair lotion on his sack only to have Cousin It sprouting from his Fruit of the Looms. Watch at your own peril and laugh at their expense.

Originally posted on 6/17/08