A decidedly brief (at 63 minutes), periodically interesting bit of pro-marijuana propaganda, Weed documents Amsterdam's 8th Annual Cannabis Cup, a competition to find the city's best toke that doubles as the world's largest pot party. At first, Weed is not especially interesting: The first half-hour or so consists of little more than a parade of interchangeable, stoned American tourists explaining that, yes, they are indeed getting very, very stoned here in this great city of Amsterdam. While director Doug Wolens trumpets the diverse and creative nature of pot enthusiasts, the tokers we're shown all seem to be divided into two camps: weird, scary old hippies and slightly younger, slightly more coherent hippies, neither of whom seem to be capable of stringing together more than two or three sentences in a row. As for pot's alleged role as a source of artistic inspiration, the few acts of creativity shown all seem to consist of stoners wearing silly elf costumes and mumbling vaguely pro-pot exclamations. But where Weed succeeds is in its fetishization of pot itself, as well as the community around which it's built. Scene after scene lingers on the various forms of pot and hashish with the fixated gaze of a love-struck teenager stalking its object of desire. During these sequences, Weed comes close to providing a sort of cinematic contact high. And when the last half-hour or so finally does coalesce into a fascinating portrait of the American tourists as political exiles united in their love of humanity, personal freedom, and the almighty weed, the effect is as sweetly narcotizing as the plant the film goes to such great lengths to celebrate.