Whiz Quiz (Short Film)

Smith’s Verdict: ***

Reviewed by Tanner Smith

It is almost ridiculously easy to criticize the UCA-produced short film “Whiz Quiz.” It’s vulgar, crude, raunchy, stupid, disgusting, over-the-top, ridiculous, and more. But hey, that’s the film’s purpose. I just pretty much described the film in those numerous adjectives. So what does it matter? Does it work for you? Did it work for me?

I recall seeing “Whiz Quiz” at a screening in Hot Springs. The audience was packed and as far as I could tell, a good majority of it was laughing out loud and exclaiming in fear and disgust (and also delight). But there was still a minority of audience members who were grimacing in a different way. And I recall a story from the film’s lead actor, Tres Wilson, that very evening. He said someone came up to him, asked if he was in the film, leaned forward, and said “Garbage,” in reference to the film.

Needless to say, a film like “Whiz Quiz” is not going to appeal to everybody. That’s because it’s a comedy. Humor is subjective—you either laugh or you don’t. And I’ll admit, after seeing it for the first time, I felt the need to not only take a shower but also gargle some mouthwash. But the second time around, I did laugh more and I wondered if it truly was the purpose of the film to gross people out.

The film is about three perpetually stoned man-children (played by Wilson, Colin Bennett, and Ben Gibson) trying to figure out how to quickly pass a drug test for Wilson’s new job. Let me give you an example of the film’s dirty humor—the boys come to a public school and attempt to collect urine in a bathroom; a janitor (Frank O. Butler) comes in and assumes the boys are there for a custodial job; he locks the door, lets his pants down, and attempts to “initiate” the scared boys, who distract him (while he’s blindfolded) with a dildo and some hand sanitizer (don’t ask). The whole sequence is generally uncomfortable, I’ll admit, but the shots used and the slow pacing (which raises suspense) made me appreciate what the filmmakers, including writer-director Brock Isbell, were trying to get away with and I did laugh as much as I groaned. It’s almost kind of admirable. Another example is when Wilson attempts to detoxify his body and he vomits in the street. One vomit gag is more than enough, but here, it’s dragged out for over a minute. Anyone can be more disgusted than amused at this, but again, anyone could also admire the slow pacing and the way it’s put together, such as when you think he’s stopped and he hasn’t.

The biggest laughs from me each came from Austin Brown as a narcoleptic drug dealer. Let’s just say he falls asleep at the most perfect times in this film.

Now, am I just saying all of this because I’m impressed that a student film like this went the extra mile, in comparison to most UCA-produced shorts I’ve seen? Probably. I will say that it took guts on Isbell’s part to make this film and, in my opinion, to do it right.

But let’s get to the answer that I built up for myself from the start. Did it work for me? I laughed, I cried, I recoiled, I grimaced, and I winced. So yes, it did work for me and I’m giving it a positive review simply for challenging me to consider what exactly I find funny.