THE FIRST MOVIE THAT EVER ENTERED MY LIFE so thoroughly that it became unavoidable was Friday. It came out in April of 1995 and starred Ice Cube and Chris Tucker as Craig and Smokey, two friends who spend a day together outside of, inside of, and in the general proximity of Craig’s house. I don’t remember seeing a trailer for it on TV, or seeing a billboard for it on the side of the road, or seeing a poster at the theater for it, or even someone at school explaining the plot of the movie to me. But what I do remember is that one day everything in my life was normal and everyone I knew was talking the only way I’d ever known them to talk, and then suddenly, seemingly all at once and with great gusto, everyone was talking differently, saying the same five or six phrases again and again and again, in ways that made sense and also, because we were all early teenagers, in ways that did not.

Everyone was saying things like, “Every time I come in the kitchen, you’re in the kitchen.” And everyone was saying things like, “Don’t nobody go in the bathroom for about thirty-five, forty-five minutes.” And everyone was saying things like, “And you know this, maaaaaaaan.” And everyone was saying things like, “Playing with my money is like playing with my emotions.” And everyone was saying things like, “You got knocked the fuck out!” And everyone was saying things like, “My neck! My back! My neck and my back!” Friday was so popular, so undeniable, so mesmerizing, so intoxicating, that it suddenly became okay to say to someone, “You got to be a stupid motherfucker to get fired on your day off,” even if the person you were saying it to had not been fired on their day off, or fired at all, or even had a job. It was a true zeitgeist shift, is what it was, which is probably the highest level of pop culture achievement a movie can reach.

The plot of Friday is as such: Craig Jones, a likable twenty-something-year-old living with his parents in South Central Los Angeles, has recently been fired from his job.1 His friend, Smokey, an even more likable twenty-something-year-old who is bad at dealing drugs, finds out that Craig has been fired, and so he spends the day trying to get Craig to smoke weed with him. As they hang out, they watch the happenings of their neighborhood, which include, among other things: a pastor possibly sleeping with a married woman; a man getting his necklace taken by a bully; a woman lying about looking like Janet Jackson; and, of the most consequence, a drug dealer named Big Worm sending a handful of people to shoot at Smokey when he finds out that Smokey has smoked most of the weed he was supposed to sell.

And listen: I know that that sounds like the framework for a silly movie, and I suppose a big part of the point of Friday is to actually be a silly movie, but it’s also a warm movie and a tender movie and a thoughtful movie.2 Three examples:

The friendship between Craig and Smokey. Outwardly, theirs is a friendship rooted in poking fun at each other. But the two care about each other a great deal. Because first, consider that Smokey shows up to visit Craig at around 8:30 in the morning and Craig does not respond by asking, “What the fuck are you doing here so early,” which is what I suspect most people would say if even their very best friend showed up unannounced that early in the morning. Instead, Craig fusses at Smokey a bit for messing up his curtains, then tells him he’ll meet him outside. And second, consider that, after making fun of Craig for a second for getting fired, Smokey decides to spend the rest of the day commiserating, and one of the defining characteristics of a close friendship is expressing empathy. And third, consider that, on multiple occasions, Craig walks Smokey home because he knows that Smokey is at risk of getting either jumped or shot at. (I like a lot of my friends, but I do not care about any of them enough to risk getting shot alongside them.) And fourth, consider how dejected and regretful Smokey is when he realizes that there’s a very real chance that Craig might get hurt because of something Smokey’s done. It’s all very beautiful, really.

The relationship between Craig and his mother and sister. Same as with Smokey, Craig’s sister and mother take turns lobbing soft jabs at Craig’s chin (Dana, his sister, played by Regina Hall, pokes at him for not having a job; his mother, Betty, played by Anna Maria Horsford, pokes at him for not being able to find a girlfriend), but there are no points in the movie when it feels like the three genuinely do not love each other. (This is the most obvious when, after hearing what they suspect are gunshots, the first person that Dana asks about is Craig.3) It’s all very beautiful, really.

The relationship between Craig and his father. A running joke in Friday is how uncool and in-the-way Craig’s father, Willie, played by John Witherspoon, is supposed to be. But Willie is, by basically every measurement, a wonderful dad. He has no problem sharing personal space with Craig (the bathroom scene). And he has no problem leaning on Craig when Craig doesn’t do what he’s supposed to do (the scene in the beginning of the movie where he fusses at Craig for not having taken the trash out). But also he’s there for Craig when he finds out that Craig has been fired (he has a possible job for him immediately). And also he delivers the movie’s most touching scene (when he sees that Craig has a gun and talks to him about how big of a mistake that is4). And also he, in a last-ditch effort, kicks Smokey out of his house because he wants to try and prevent Craig from getting caught up in the blowback of Big Worm’s attack on Smokey. And also he, while Craig and Deebo are fighting, has enough faith in his own wisdom to know that, win or lose, Craig will be a better person if he receives no help during the fight. It’s all very beautiful, really.

Separate from the ones I mentioned early, twelve other perfect lines from Friday:

“She’s in school. She has all her teeth.” That’s a thing Betty says to Craig when she’s talking to him about a girl who might make for a good girlfriend, and the only reason I want a Friday prequel is so that we can see the girls that Craig was dating before this moment that would necessitate his mom needing to point out that a girl has all of her teeth.

“What the fuck you doing stealing boxes for? Whatchu tryna build? A clubhouse?” Smokey says that to Craig when he finds out that Craig was fired because supervisors said they had video of Craig stealing boxes at work. I laugh every time.

“I know you don’t smoke weed. I know this. But I’ma get you high today. Cuz it’s Friday, you ain’t got no job, and you ain’t got shit to do.”—Smokey

“Yeah, it’s just like it’s both ours. We’ll just keep it down at my house.” That’s what Red says after he asks Deebo for his bike back. Deebo says sure, and Red is happy, and then Deebo turns around and hits Red so hard that he nearly knocks his head off his shoulders. (A neat sidenote: The guy who plays Red is named DJ Pooh. He not only co-wrote the script with Ice Cube, but he was also originally supposed to play Smokey.)

“Bye, Felisha.”—Craig

“Weed is from the earth. God put this here for me and you.”—Smokey

• The whole back-and-forth exchange with the pastor. This was Bernie Mac and Chris Tucker going line for line with each other trying to see who could be the funniest. It’s art.

• When Smokey makes up Spanish when he’s smoking with the Mexicans. I remember rewatching this movie around 2017 and getting to this part and the person I was watching it with saying something like, “Wait. He’s being racist right now.” To which I responded with, “I don’t care. It’s fucking funny.”

“Most people wanna borrow sugar. Or even ketchup. You wanna borrow my car? Hell no.”—Smokey

“Remember it. Write it down. Take a picture. I don’t give a fuck.”—Smokey

“Y’all ain’t never got two things that match. Y’all got Kool-aid, no sugar. Peanut butter, no jelly. Ham, no burger. Damn!”—Smokey

“Why you bringing up old shit?”—Smokey

“Man, I got mind control over Deebo. He be like, ‘Shut the fuck up.’ I be quiet. But when he leave. I be talking again.”—Smokey

“He gon’ cry in the car.” This one, like many others on this list, was said by Smokey. Chris Tucker was so goddamn good as Smokey. It was, in the very truest sense, a breakout moment for him. You watched it and, same as people did with Julia Roberts in Pretty Woman or Sandra Bullock in Speed or Heath Ledger in 10 Things I Hate About You or Laurence Fishburne in Boyz n the Hood, you said to yourself, “That person is a movie star.”