Abstract
The 2018 documentary Weed the People is a compelling tale of five children with cancer and their families' quests to use medical marijuana as treatment to shrink tumors and modify disease in hopes of treating the cancer. The producers attempt to balance anecdote, science, and the political history of medical marijuana. They are largely successful in achieving this balance, but they leave the viewer with the impression that marijuana's efficacy as an antitumor agent is well established and that safety is not a concern.
The story opens with Sophie, a baby with a low-grade glioma. Her family is holding hands and praying around a marijuana plant, thanking God for this gift that will “heal our baby.” Her mom tells us that she cannot imagine putting her tiny little baby through “chemo,” said with a shutter. In walks Mara, owner of Aunt Zelda's marijuana oil products who tells us she has no medical training, but has a lot of experience. She says she will have to figure out the dose, but emphasizes that marijuana cannot hurt Sophie. Mara puts a drop of oil on Sophie's applesauce, she takes it, and as Sophie drifts off to sleep, Mara whispers, “we are going to make you better, so you can live a long life.” Much of the movie is centered on Sophie's story.
The film goes on to introduce us to other kids as well. Chico is a young teen with advanced rhabdomyosarcoma in his neck and chest. He has just undergone grueling chemotherapy and medical marijuana is the only thing that has helped his unbearable nausea. His mom tells us how she has read about the antitumor properties of cannabis oil—how it helps the chemo get rid of the cancer. We also learn about A.J., an older teen, with advanced osteosarcoma and a grim prognosis. His parents tell us about all the opioids A.J. needed—taking them every two hours, always in pain, not eating, vomiting constantly, and how by just starting a sesame seed sized drop of cannabis oil, he was off all pain pills in three days. Later we learn that miraculously his scans show he is tumor-free. Next, we meet Cecelia, a three-year old with metastatic Wilms tumor. Her parents explain that the hospital told them they did not know whether she would survive, allowing the family to opt out of further treatment, and then it all changed after an uncle introduced them to cannabis oil. It was “liquid gold,” shrinking the tumors. Cecelia's parents explain that she is only here today because of cannabis and their faith in God. Lastly we learn about another child, also named A.J., with an especially aggressive brain tumor and the story of how his family traveled to California to obtain medical marijuana for him. We meet the self-proclaimed “marijuana doctor,” a former pediatric emergency room physician, who certifies A.J. We listen as she touts the benefits of marijuana—the hundreds of children she has seen and the many kids with advanced cancer who have gotten better by taking marijuana.
The movie is not entirely about the kids. We learn a lot about the lengthy history of marijuana as a medicine. We learn that it was once in the U.S. Pharmacopeia, but was removed ∼70 years ago. We learn that the U.S. government has a patent on marijuana as a protectant after brain injury, and simultaneously it says marijuana has no medical value: thus, it remains a schedule I drug. We also learn that in the 1970s, the NIH published evidence on the benefits of cannabis as an anticancer agent, but now that research has mysteriously disappeared. The filmmakers then take us to Israel and Spain, where scientists are researching the cancer-killing properties of marijuana. We see plates of colon cancer cells wiped out by cannabis. We see mice with ugly glioblastoma tumors on their backs that shrink with THC treatment. The tumor type matters we are told. The scientists let us know that the next step is clinical trials.
The movie closes with the song “We Are Still in Time.” We have learned that one of the little boys we met has since died. As the music builds we see the other kids heading off on their bikes, dancing at their recitals, or walking up to receive their high school diploma. It closes with all the families together at a picnic in a park, the little girls hugging one another, the big boys not looking so healthy, but the words revealing that everyone is cancer-free.
Weed the People speaks to our hearts. It gives us a glimpse into the lives of parents desperate to heal their children. What comes across clearly is that the families and the medical providers are all grasping for that one treatment that might tip the scales in their favor, might extend their lives. The documentary truly tries to balance the emotional plight of these families with the political history and actual scientific research being conducted abroad. After I wiped my eyes from the final scene in the park, two things unsettled me in particular. First, while we are told over and over again that these patients are test subjects and there is no data, we are also told that one thing we do know is that it is safe. I could not help but think to myself, really? In reality both safety, especially of the highly concentrated oils these families are using, and efficacy remain unproven. We are also told nothing of how concentrated marijuana might interact with any conventional treatments. The second salient message for me was that while the academic physicians interviewed were careful not to outright underwrite marijuana, the lines are definitely blurred between making a case for proven medical treatment and the endorsement of commercial products by entrepreneurs with or without medical degrees.