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By Tim Sanger | February 1, 2001

“With an untraditional entrance into the film industry and an even more abstract slew of movie concepts, Peter Bittenbender stands apart from the hordes of producers knocking on Hollywood’s doors.”
“Jason Goldwach has proven that he has the ability to keep the audience captivated with his subversive wit and experimental editing, while simultaneously creating art that is years ahead of its time.” ^ – Press kit bios of Peter Bittenbender and Jason Goldwach

Humble, aren’t they? For starters, I’m going to offer these filmmakers some nuggets of advice: ^ A. Don’t write your own press kits. ^ B. Don’t talk s**t if you don’t have the product to back it up. ^ C. Next time, don’t take an RV.
Just hook a basket onto your two heads — they’re inflated enough to carry you across the country and beyond.
I don’t know which is worse in “One Big Trip” — following the zoned-out slackers undertaking the journey or the fact that the filmmakers (said-slackers) found their lives so important that they needed to make a film about it.
“One Big Trip” is like that drunken video you make with your friends, then watch the next day and question what the hell you were thinking. It actually wants its drug-induced bender to be seen as something serious and profound.
Plot? Five morons pile into an RV a couple of weeks before Y2K and make a cross country trek, taking massive amounts of drugs while interviewing any loony they can get their hands on. It seems to be the biggest cliché in documentary filmmaking — find the craziest person on the street and roll camera. It’s a lot like “Road Rules” — the particpants are way too full of themselves and obnoxious, except these five intake massive amounts of marajuana and X, which of course makes them experts in a profound and deep study into the American life, right?
The filmmaking team of Peter Bittenbender and Jason Goldwach, these two dumb-a***s represent everything that is wrong about our generation. The film drips with whiny self-entitlement. Watching them getting wasted, stay in fancy hotels and spend money like there’s no tomorrow, then pitch themselves as being enlightened prophets, you can’t help but want to bitch-smack all five of them. Do you really want a bunch of white, rich suburban film students telling you how you should live your life?
The only thing that leaves an impression is the ego of the filmmakers, who apparently think that watching them cavort with their airhead girlfriends through a druggy haze of America is worthy of anybody’s time. What’s worse, after all this stupid debauchery they sit down with two hoo-doo holy men in funky robes and actually try to lend some spiritual enlightenment to their “journey.” Gimme a f*****g break. If you want to make a film about a crazy night on the town, fine, but don’t have the pretention to think you’ve changed the f*****g world.
One can only hope that these pseudo-brats will put down their cameras and go back to the mall. “One Big Trip” is gonzo filmmaking at its worst. Hopefully, the only “new movement” this idiot Jason will lead is to the employment office to get a real job. Shame on them, and shame on NoDance for encouraging these spoiled a*s-monkeys.

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