Jason Biggs Says ‘American Pie’ Would Be An Anti-Woke Hit If It Came Out Today

Every generation has a movie that makes them laugh, cringe, and whisper, “We watched that at a sleepover?”
For Millennials, that movie is often American Pie. For everyone else, it’s the cultural equivalent of
finding an old Facebook album titled “SPRING BREAK 2009 (DO NOT TAG).”

So when Jason Biggs suggested that American Pie would spark an “anti-woke” kind of reaction if it premiered today,
the internet did what it does best: took a nuanced point, squeezed it like a stress ball, and launched it into orbit.
But underneath the hot takes is a genuinely interesting question:
Could a late-’90s teen comedy become a modern box-office hitespecially if it got labeled as “anti-woke”?

What Biggs Actually Meant (And Why People Heard a Different Message)

Biggs’ point wasn’t “bring back everything-goes comedy.” It was closer to:
today’s culture is so polarized that the same movie could be praised as ‘free speech comedy’ and criticized as ‘dated and harmful’at the same time.
In other words, the film wouldn’t just open in theaters; it would open in the comment section.

He described a split reaction: one group cheering “anything goes,” another group pushing back on jokes that feel out of step
with how people talk about consent, privacy, and respect now. That doesn’t automatically mean the movie “wins” or “loses.”
It means it becomes a cultural lightning rodexactly the sort of thing that can drive curiosity, discourse, and yes, ticket sales.

This is also why the phrase “anti-woke hit” sticks. It’s a shortcutlike calling every sports car “a midlife crisis.”
The label is loud, sticky, and not always accurate. But in 2026 media culture, sticky often beats accurate.

Why American Pie Hit So Hard in 1999

It arrived at the perfect moment

In the late ’90s, teen movies were booming, pop music was everywhere, and the internet was still mostly dial-up noises and
questionable chatroom decisions. American Pie showed up as a coming-of-age comedy that felt both outrageous and oddly relatable.
It wasn’t just raunch for raunch’s sakebeneath the chaos, it was about awkwardness, insecurity, friendship, and that universal fear:
“What if everyone figures out I have no idea what I’m doing?”

It also became a massive commercial success, especially relative to its budget.
That success mattered because it signaled something Hollywood loves: low risk, high reward.
When a movie pulls in huge numbers at the box office, it doesn’t just make moneyit creates a template.

It packaged “shock” as mainstream entertainment

The movie leaned into big, memorable set pieces that people could talk about at school on Monday.
(Or in the workplace later… with the kind of nervous laugh that says, “We were all young and the internet didn’t archive everything yet.”)
Those moments turned into cultural shorthand.

And crucially, it also included a surprising amount of heartespecially through the father-son dynamic that gave the movie
a warm center amid the embarrassment hurricane.

Would It Be Made Today? Yes… But It Wouldn’t Be the Same Movie

A common claim is that “you couldn’t make American Pie today.” That’s half true.
You could absolutely make a bold, R-rated comedy about teens and coming-of-age awkwardness.
What you probably couldn’t do (or wouldn’t choose to do) is recreate certain plot beats in the same way
not because comedy is “illegal,” but because audience expectations have changed.

1) Consent and privacy aren’t punchlines anymore

The biggest modern critique centers on a voyeurism-based subplot that, viewed through today’s lens,
reads less like “wild teen comedy” and more like “that would be a serious violation.”
This is where the generational gap gets real:
what many audiences once processed as a farcical escalation now gets evaluated with language like
“privacy,” “harm,” and “consequences.”

Modern teen comedies still push boundariesbut they’re more likely to show accountability, or at least
signal that the joke isn’t “the violation is funny,” but “the character is an idiot and this is not okay.”

2) The theatrical comedy business has changed

In 1999, theaters were a prime destination for mid-budget comedies.
Now, studios often send comedies to streaming, reserve theaters for franchise events, or make fewer
mid-budget films overall.
Even when R-rated comedies do hit theaters, they’re frequently treated like an experiment:
can this still work as a communal big-screen experience?

Recent years have shown attempts at reviving theatrical comediessome with notable success, others with
“people liked it… at home later” energy. The result is a landscape where a movie like American Pie
would likely come with a sharper marketing strategy and a more defensive PR plan.

3) Social media would turn it into a referendum

In 1999, backlash traveled slower. You heard criticism through reviews, maybe a talk show segment, or that one friend
who always seemed to have an opinion ready before the rest of the class finished the movie.

Today, a trailer can get dissected in minutes:
“Is this sexist?” “Is this satire?” “Is this nostalgia bait?”
Then comes the counter-wave:
“People are too sensitive.” “Comedy is dead.” “No, your jokes are just lazy.”
By opening weekend, it’s not just a movieit’s a cultural identity quiz.

Could It Still Be a Hit? The Strong Case for “Yes”

Here’s the twist: the same forces that make American Pie controversial today can also make it commercially powerful.
Controversy is attention. Attention is curiosity. Curiosity sells ticketsespecially when the product already has name recognition.

Nostalgia is a superpower

People don’t just remember the film; they remember the era.
For many viewers, it’s tied to high school, music, fashion choices that should remain sealed in a time capsule,
and the first time a comedy felt “too adult” to watch with parents in the room.
If a new American Pie entryor a spiritual successorhit theaters, nostalgia alone would bring in a crowd.

The “anti-woke” label can function like free marketing

Biggs’ “anti-woke” framing points to a real phenomenon:
some audiences treat backlash as a recommendation.
If a segment of the internet declares a comedy “problematic,” another segment decides it must be hilarious.

That doesn’t mean the movie is actually “anti-woke.”
It means the culture war is so eager for symbols that it turns entertainment into signage:
“This movie is on my side.”

Modern audiences still want big laughsjust with smarter targets

People haven’t stopped liking raunchy humor. They’ve gotten pickier about what feels mean-spirited versus what feels
like self-aware chaos. The funniest modern comedies often punch up, punch inward, or punch at the absurdity of the situation
not at someone’s identity or lack of power.

That’s not “woke policing.” That’s just better writing.

What a 2026-Version of American Pie Would Probably Change

Keep the awkward sincerity, update the ethics

The strongest parts of the original aren’t the shock momentsthey’re the emotional ones:
friendship under pressure, the fear of being left behind, the cringe of trying to act confident when you’re not.
A modern version would lean harder into that,
and treat boundary-crossing behavior as something characters learn fromnot something the audience is invited to cheer.

Make the girls and women full engines of the story

Another modern adjustment would be perspective.
Instead of treating female characters as “goals” in a scoreboard mindset,
a modern teen comedy would give them their own comedic agency, choices, and complexity.
Not as a lecturejust as an upgrade.

Trade “gotcha” humiliation for “shared embarrassment”

Humiliation can be funny when it’s universalwhen everyone is equally ridiculous.
It’s less funny when it feels like one person’s privacy is the entertainment.
A modern American Pie-style movie would likely aim for chaos that lands on the whole group,
not on one character who becomes the collateral damage.

Jason Biggs, the Franchise, and the “Still Talking About It” Effect

Biggs has been candid over the years about how long the movie’s shadow isand how surreal it is
that decades later, people still bring it up instantly.
He’s also signaled openness to returning if a new sequel ever comes together,
which says a lot about the franchise’s persistent cultural footprint.

That longevity matters in a modern marketplace where “awareness” is half the battle.
Studios don’t just chase good scripts; they chase recognizable brands.
And like it or not, American Pie remains recognizable.

So… Would It Be an “Anti-Woke Hit” Today?

Here’s the most honest answer:
It would be a hit if it felt fresh, self-aware, and emotionally honestregardless of what the internet labeled it.

The “anti-woke” label is more about the audience than the movie.
Some viewers would embrace it as a rebellious throwback.
Others would critique what hasn’t aged well.
Most people would do what they always do with comedy:
watch a clip, laugh (or wince), and then argue about it like it’s the Constitution.

If a new American Pie came out today, the conversation would be louder, faster, and messier than in 1999.
But messy doesn’t mean unsuccessful. Sometimes messy is the business model.

Key Takeaways for Comedy Writers (and Anyone Marketing a “Risky” Movie)

• Polarization creates attention, but attention doesn’t equal lovemake sure the product holds up.
• Nostalgia is a hook, not a substitute for story. Give audiences something new to quote.
• Boundary-pushing works best when the joke isn’t “harm is funny,” but “humans are ridiculous.”
• Modern audiences reward sincerity. Even the wildest comedies need a real emotional spine.
• Expect the discourse. Build a message around what the film is actually trying to say.

Conclusion

Jason Biggs’ “anti-woke hit” comment isn’t really about bringing back a specific brand of late-’90s humor.
It’s about recognizing how the culture has changed: comedies don’t just entertain nowthey get interpreted,
categorized, and recruited into online battles they never auditioned for.

Could American Pie still win big today? Possibly.
But it would need to be smarter about what it’s laughing at, clearer about what it’s celebrating,
and brave enough to evolve without turning into a lecture.
Comedy isn’t dead. It just has a higher standardand a louder audience.

Real-World Experiences: Watching, Laughing, and Rethinking American Pie in 2026

One of the strangest modern experiences is watching an older comedy with a mixed-age groupsay, a couple of Millennials,
a Gen Xer who remembers the theatrical release, and a Gen Z viewer who’s seen the memes but not the full movie.
The room becomes a tiny cultural laboratory. The laughs come in waves, but not always at the same moments.

The first wave is usually pure nostalgia. Someone recognizes a line or a music cue and starts laughing
before the joke even finisheslike their brain is doing a “previously on…” recap. That kind of laughter is real,
but it’s also memory-driven. People aren’t only reacting to the scene; they’re reacting to being 16 again,
sitting too close to the TV, hoping their parents don’t walk in at the wrong moment.

The second wave is the “wait… did they really do that?” reaction. This is where modern viewers often pause,
rewind, and ask questions that didn’t get asked out loud in 1999:
“Would that be considered a violation now?” “Why is nobody facing consequences?”
“Is the joke supposed to be that it’s wrong, or just that it’s embarrassing?”
That’s not humorlessnessit’s a different cultural default. People have more language for boundaries now,
and they use it automatically, the way you might automatically check an ingredient label.

Then comes the unexpected part: the group starts talking about what still works.
The awkwardness, the insecurity, the desperate attempts to look cool while clearly not being cool
those themes don’t age out. In fact, in an era of curated social feeds, they can hit even harder.
The best scenes in a movie like American Pie often land because they’re emotionally honest:
the characters are trying, failing, and learning in painfully human ways.

Another common modern experience is watching people negotiate what “funny” means in real time.
Someone laughs, then immediately adds a disclaimer“Okay, that’s terrible, but…”as if humor now requires a permission slip.
Someone else pushes back: “It’s not that you can’t laugh. It’s just that the joke is punching down.”
The conversation becomes less about the film and more about identity, values, and what people want comedy to do:
release tension, challenge norms, or simply provide chaos with a side of fries.

And that’s where Biggs’ “anti-woke hit” idea clicks as an experience, not just a headline.
In 2026, a movie can become a symbol even if it didn’t ask to be one.
Some viewers would treat American Pie as a rebellious throwbacka “remember when comedy was fearless?” banner.
Others would treat it as a lesson in what culture used to excuse.
Most people would land somewhere in the middle: laughing at the universal awkwardness,
cringing at the parts that feel mean or careless, and walking away with the same conclusion:
comedy can evolve without losing its edge, but it has to know where the edge is aimed.

If you’ve ever watched a decades-old comedy and felt two emotions at once“this is hilarious” and “wow, that’s dated”
you’ve already lived the modern audience reality. That tension doesn’t automatically kill a movie.
Sometimes it’s exactly what keeps it alive.