You ever hit a bowl and suddenly you’re back in 1996, staring at the TV like it’s a church and Matthew Lillard is God? Same. Because this man — with his sloppy tongue, cartoonishly emotional breakdowns, and commitment to weirdness, didn’t just act. He entered every scene like a man possessed by punk, heartbreak, and the ghost of every weirdo inside of us who never quite fit.

Let’s be honest: he didn’t play characters. He channeled energy.

Scream? Iconic. His tongue alone deserves an award. The final scenes where he spirals into a blubbering, co-dependent, bleeding-out mama’s boy — peak overdramatics. Slasher horror but make it theater kid. The part where he says “my mom and dad are gonna be so mad at me”— instantly engraved in Gen X DNA.

SLC Punk? That movie was a mixtape for the pissed-off suburban outcasts who couldn’t scream in real life. We didn’t just watch Stevo. We were Stevo. And Lillard made us feel seen — erratic, loyal, pissed-off, philosophical, and punk-as-fuck — even if we were just moshing with a remote in our hands. Staying home sick from school, high on cold medicine and rage, watching that movie three times in a row like it held the answers to everything. (It kinda did.)

But beyond the characters, it’s the way Matthew is.

The fandom stories of him giving long hugs, making eye contact, seeing you — he’s not above anyone. He shows up like a dude who just gets it. He doesn’t play untouchable. He plays accessible. The kind of guy who’d hold your joint while you cry about your mom.

And remember that time Tarantino kinda dismissed his work? It hurt him. And he said so. That alone makes him more punk than anything. You want raw? That’s raw. That’s vulnerability Gen X was taught to suppress — but we all felt that.

So why do we love Matthew Lillard?

Because he wasn’t trying to be hot. He was weird, expressive, loud, lanky, too much, and still magnetic. He gave us permission to feel everything at once and then laugh through it. He was the wildcard in the social circle. The anarchist with a heart. And we, the cynical stoned Gen Xers? We ate that up.

What do Gen X and Weed Have in Common?

We’ve both been underestimated.
We both come with stigma.
We both made it out alive, somehow, with dry mouths and too many emotions.

Weed never judged us for still watching Scream for the 34th time. Or for crying over Stevo’s monologue while ghosting adulthood. Weed was the friend that said “yeah, that scene was life-changing” and handed us a blanket and a bag of chips.

And Matthew Lillard? He was the guy before influ were monetized.

So light one up for the man who made anarchy hot, for the stoners and screamers and soft rebels we were, and still are.

Happy Birthday, Lillard. We’re still not over you.
And we don’t want to be. ✨