It’s not too surprising to discover that Dude, Where’s My Car? has a poor, poor rating of 18% on Rotten Tomatoes. Many people detest this film. Critics point to its daft title and ludicrous plot; some scenes make no sense and seem to belong in an entirely different movie; the two leads are party-obsessed man-children who make the American Pie boys look like over-achieving intellectuals; much of the humour relies on repetition and an attitude towards gender, sexuality and non-American accents that is, to put it generously, schoolboyish. It’s hard to disagree with any of this, and yet: I adore Dude, Where’s My Car?  Its two central characters, Jesse and Chester, are a pair of easygoing stoners who wake up one morning after a night on the tiles with no memory of what they got up to the previous evening. They discover Jesse’s car has been mislaid, and with it the anniversary presents they’d bought for their girlfriends – and so begins the duo’s mission to retrace their steps and get to the bottom of several mysteries. How did they get themselves in such a terrible state? Why is their kitchen cupboard filled with a year’s supply of pudding? Why are they being pursued by a pair of Scandanavian dudes in disco vests, a group of babes in black jumpsuits, and a nerdily intense UFO cult? And, above all other pressing matters, where is Jesse’s car?  A large part of DWMC’s appeal lies with its two lead performances; Ashton Kutcher and Seann William Scott are both fine comic actors deserving far more credit than they usually get. When the film was released in 2000, Kutcher was best known for his role in That 70s Show, Scott for his portrayal of the obnoxious Stifler in American Pie. While their roles in Dude were by no means a stretch for either actor, it’s hard to imagine anyone else playing these loveable idiots with quite so much energy, conviction and warmth. As a heroic duo, Jesse and Chester share DNA with Bill and Ted, Harry and Lloyd, Cheech & Chong – and perhaps a faint trace of Withnail and Marwood, another pair of chemically rattled ne’er-do-wells who could have benefited from adopting some of Jesse and Chester’s vim, brio and indefatigable optimism. Like Withnail and I, DWMC is hugely quotable; it’s packed with so many throw-away gags and Dadaist one liners it’s impossible to absorb them all in a single sitting. Thankfully, the film rewards repeat viewings in spades; it’s essentially a series of set-pieces, and admittedly not every scene quite hits the mark, but there are many that get funnier with every watch. Highlights include Jesse and Chester’s efforts to explain to each other what their new back tattoos say; their ham-fisted infiltration of the UFO cult; Brent Spiner’s appearance as a malevolent ostrich farmer; and, pick of the bunch, a thwarted attempt to order Chinese food from an un-cooperative drive-through. Seann William Scott’s face in this last scene, fluctuating between joy, confusion, and anguish, is worth the price of admission on its own.  Reading on a mobile? Click here to watch video  DWMC Director Danny Leiner went on to make Harold and Kumar Go to White Castle, a far more critically respected entry in the two-stoners-have-to-do-something canon – but for my money it never quite reaches Dude’s gloriously idiotic highs. Some time ago, I was lucky enough to live with a group of friends who shared my enthusiasm, and several late nights and early mornings featured ritual viewings and in-jokey debates about its subtexts, disjointed timeline and the location of Jesse’s car. I suppose that’s where most of the guilt part of this guilty pleasure comes in; I could have been spending that time far more wisely – but then I wouldn’t have had nearly as much stupid, stupid fun.  • More from My guilty pleasure
This tale of two stoners trying to retrace their steps after the wildest of all nights was critically panned and generally reviled by audiences. But how can anyone hate such stupid, stupid fun, writes Adam Boult