SYNOPSIS: A likeable documentary about a likeable subject, “John Candy: I Like Me” is a straightforward look at a comedian whose work is still entertaining audiences three decades after his passing.
CAST: John Candy, Dan Aykroyd, Catherine O’Hara, Steve Martin, Tom Hanks, Martin Short, Eugene Levy, and Macaulay Culkin. Directed by Colin Hanks.
REVIEW: Martin Short told “John Candy: I Like Me” documentary producer Ryan Reynolds and director Colin Hanks (whose famous father co-starred with Candy in “Splash”), they would not be able to find anyone with anything bad to say about John Candy. Short was right. Everyone in the doc speaks glowingly of Candy, his generosity of spirit and luminous talent, but this isn’t a straight up hagiography.
Those nearest and dearest to the late comic actor, like his children Jennifer and Chris, widow Rose, Steve Martin, Tom Hanks, Martin Short, Eugene Levy, Macaulay Culkin, Dan Aykroyd and Catherine O’Hara, paint a colorful portrait of a larger-than-life character who battled weight issues and an anxiety disorder.
Thirty years after his passing on a film shoot in Durango, Mexico, Candy’s work remains as funny and endearing as it was when first released. Hanks’s film offers up copious evidence in the form of clips from “SCTV,” “Uncle Buck,” “Splash,” “Spaceballs,” “Home Alone,” “Planes, Trains and Automobiles” (it’s a line in the latter that gives this movie its name: “I like me,” Candy says as Del Griffith. “My wife likes me.”) and many others, and while it’s lovey to revisit those moments, it’s the picture of Candy off screen that compels.
New interviews with school friends, family and colleagues like Dan Aykroyd, Catherine O’Hara, Martin Short and Steve Martin tell the tale. From growing up in a working-class Toronto family, to his father’s passing of heart disease at age 35 when John was four years old, to putting his dreams of football stardom aside after a knee injury to discovering acting in college, we learn how each of these events shaped the trajectory of his life and career from the people who were there with him.
Everyone describes him as a charismatic character, the first one to pick up the tab in the early days, even though they were all making the same money. He was a people pleaser, but as Conan O’Brien points out, “The hazard of this business is that it’s very unhealthy for people pleasers.”
More up-close-and-personal are the remembrances of his Chris, Jennifer and Rose. They provide an intimate, behind-the-scenes glimpse of a man who, as his daughter says, “took care of people” but didn’t necessarily take care of himself. He liked a drink, a cigarette and, as anxiety entered his life, became convinced he would die early, just as his father had.
Ultimately, “John Candy: I Like Me” is a straightforward, heartfelt documentary with a bittersweet ending. Candy passed at age 43, but the wealth of material he left behind, the TV shows and movies, still entertains, three decades after his passing.
SYNOPSIS: A likeable documentary about a likeable subject, “John Candy: I Like Me” is a straightforward look at a comedian whose work is still entertaining audiences three decades after his passing.
CAST: John Candy, Dan Aykroyd, Catherine O’Hara, Steve Martin, Tom Hanks, Martin Short, Eugene Levy, and Macaulay Culkin. Directed by Colin Hanks.
REVIEW: Martin Short told “John Candy: I Like Me” documentary producer Ryan Reynolds and director Colin Hanks (whose famous father co-starred with Candy in “Splash”), they would not be able to find anyone with anything bad to say about John Candy. Short was right. Everyone in the doc speaks glowingly of Candy, his generosity of spirit and luminous talent, but this isn’t a straight up hagiography.
Those nearest and dearest to the late comic actor, like his children Jennifer and Chris, widow Rose, Steve Martin, Tom Hanks, Martin Short, Eugene Levy, Macaulay Culkin, Dan Aykroyd and Catherine O’Hara, paint a colorful portrait of a larger-than-life character who battled weight issues and an anxiety disorder.
Thirty years after his passing on a film shoot in Durango, Mexico, Candy’s work remains as funny and endearing as it was when first released. Hanks’s film offers up copious evidence in the form of clips from “SCTV,” “Uncle Buck,” “Splash,” “Spaceballs,” “Home Alone,” “Planes, Trains and Automobiles” (it’s a line in the latter that gives this movie its name: “I like me,” Candy says as Del Griffith. “My wife likes me.”) and many others, and while it’s lovey to revisit those moments, it’s the picture of Candy off screen that compels.
New interviews with school friends, family and colleagues like Dan Aykroyd, Catherine O’Hara, Martin Short and Steve Martin tell the tale. From growing up in a working-class Toronto family, to his father’s passing of heart disease at age 35 when John was four years old, to putting his dreams of football stardom aside after a knee injury to discovering acting in college, we learn how each of these events shaped the trajectory of his life and career from the people who were there with him.
Everyone describes him as a charismatic character, the first one to pick up the tab in the early days, even though they were all making the same money. He was a people pleaser, but as Conan O’Brien points out, “The hazard of this business is that it’s very unhealthy for people pleasers.”
More up-close-and-personal are the remembrances of his Chris, Jennifer and Rose. They provide an intimate, behind-the-scenes glimpse of a man who, as his daughter says, “took care of people” but didn’t necessarily take care of himself. He liked a drink, a cigarette and, as anxiety entered his life, became convinced he would die early, just as his father had.
Ultimately, “John Candy: I Like Me” is a straightforward, heartfelt documentary with a bittersweet ending. Candy passed at age 43, but the wealth of material he left behind, the TV shows and movies, still entertains, three decades after his passing.
I go to the vault to unearth a vintage interview I did with Wolverine himself, Hugh Jackman. We don’t talk superheroes, instead, the actor gets personal, talking about the projects that worked, the ones that didn’t and what drives him. “When I started acting I was the dunce of the class,” he says.
SYNOPSIS: Six years after the events of “Deadpool 2” comes “Deadpool & Wolverine,” a new superhero movie starring Ryan Reynolds and Hugh Jackman, and now playing in theatres.
Now working as a used car salesman, Wade Wilson (Reynolds) has retired his wisecracking mercenary Deadpool persona. His life is up-ended when the Time Variance Authority (TVA) enlists him to undertake a new mission with another reluctant superhero Wolverine (Jackman).
“Wade, you are special,” says TVA agent Mr. Paradox (Macfadyen). “This is your chance to be a hero among heroes.”
CAST: Ryan Reynolds, Hugh Jackman, Rhett Reese, Emma Corrin, Matthew Macfadyen, Paul Wernick, Zeb Wells. Directed by Shawn Levy.
REVIEW: If the word bombastic took steroids it might come close to describing the R-rated “Deadpool & Wolverine.” Vulgar, gory with a “whiff of necrophilia” and irreverence to burn, it’s a showcase for the bromance stylings of its stars, who pull out all the stops to lovingly put a cap on Fox’s Marvel movies. “Disney bought Fox,” Deadpool explains, “[so there’s] that whole boring rights issue.”
At the film’s start, it takes some doing to explain Wolverine/Logan’s return from the dead—“Nothing will bring you back to life faster than a big bag of Marvel cash,” Deadpool says to Wolverine’s remains.—but once that convoluted (but action-packed) set-up is out of the way, the film barrels through plot with both fists flailing.
Before, during and after the big, bloody action sequences the movie cheekily blurs the line between on-screen and off-screen life. Deadpool obnoxiously calls Logan “Hugh,” and even takes a jab at jackman’s recent divorce. Later he leeringly mentions “Gossip Girl,” the show that made Reynolds’s wife, Blake Lively, famous.
That fourth-wall-breaking riffing suits Reynolds’s trademark delivery, and sets the self-aware “Deadpool” movies apart from other superhero films. ““Fox killed him,” Deadpool says of Wolverine. “Disney brought him back. They’re gonna make him do this till he’s 90!”
Humor has a place in the Marvel Cinematic Universe (MCU), in Tony Stark’s one-liners, in Taika Waititi era “Thor” movies and “Guardians of the Galaxy” to name a handful of examples, but none of those subversively poke fun at superhero movies and themselves in the way “Deadpool & Wolverine” does. What other MCU movie would self-deprecatingly admit that the characters are entering the multiverse “at a bit of a low point”?
Jackman mostly plays it straight, acting as a soundboard for “the Merc with the Mouth’s” one liners. Filled with regret over past events, the self-loathing Wolverine is a hard drinking mutant, in full comic book costume, who reluctantly embraces heroism.
Wolverine provides the story’s heart as a counterpoint to Deadpool’s constant quipping.
Both characters may be physically indestructible, but their psyches aren’t. Both are tortured, and when the movie isn’t gushing blood or cracking wise, it’s about lost souls and their search for redemption. That story chord is a grace note that often gets lost amid the film’s cacophonic action, but is a welcome relief from the constant clatter.
A love letter to the now by-gone Fox era of superhero films, “Deadpool & Wolverine” ushers in a new epoch overstuffed with overkill, cameos, Easter eggs, juvenile humour and a villain who reads minds by thrusting their fingers into their victim’s heads. It’s fun fan service, and a good time at the movies, even if the experience of watching it sometimes feels like being on the inside of a blender set to puree.
LOGLINE: In the live-action/animated fantasy comedy “IF,” a tragedy gives teenager Bea (Cailey Fleming) the power to see the imaginary friends—“IFs” for short—left behind as their real life friends age and mature. When she discovers her adult neighbor Cal (Ryan Reynolds) has the same gift, they work together to reconnect adults with their childhood Ifs.
CAST: John Krasinski (who also directs), Cailey Fleming, Ryan Reynolds, Fiona Shaw, Alan Kim, Liza Colón-Zayas, Phoebe Waller-Bridge, Louis Gossett Jr., Steve Carell,
REVIEW: “IF” is a contemplative story about the importance of friends, imaginary or not, experiencing grief and loss and the power of imagination. Although told from a twelve-year-old point of view, it is more an exercise in wistful nostalgia than kid’s adventure. Writer and director John Krasinski has a lot on his mind, and infuses the story with an unexpectedly healthy dose of melancholy.
The storytelling is a little bumpy, and the pace a bit slow, but it packs an emotional punch as Bea comes to understand her life through interactions with the IFs and their humans. Fleming’s performance cuts through, standing apart from the flashier IF characters (voiced by a-listers like Steve Carell, Phoebe Waller-Bridge, Louis Gossett Jr., Emily Blunt, Matt Damon, Awkwafina and Bradley Cooper) and even the perennial scene-stealer Reynolds, who hands in his least Ryan Reynoldsy performance in years.
Part “Who Framed Roger Rabbit,” part Spielbergian childhood drama, “IF” is a tad darker than the trailers suggest, and tries a little too hard to strum the heartstrings but as it leans into sentimentality it pays off with a message of the importance connection.
I doubt that “Spirited,” the new Will Ferrell Christmas musical now streaming on Apple TV+, will give people the same holiday feels as his stone-cold Yuletide classic “Elf,” but Ferrell and co-star Ryan Reynolds work as hard as Santa’s reindeers on Christmas Eve to spread goodwill.
In this modern twist on the 1843 novella “A Christmas Carol” by Charles Dickens—it’s “like the Bill Murray movie and every other adaptation nobody ever asked for,” says Jacob Marley (Patrick Page)—the story focusses on the haunters, not the haunted.
For almost 200 years, under the guidance of Marley, the afterlife spirits, the Ghost of Christmas Present (Ferrell), Ghost of Christmas Past (Sunita Mani) and the Ghost of Christmas Yet-To-Come (voice of Tracy Morgan), scare one Scroogey type—a “perp” they call them—into changing their lives for the better.
“That’s what we do,” says the Ghost of Christmas Present, “we change a person into a better person, and then sing about it.”
Trouble is, after almost two centuries of the work—there’s a year-round research process before the actual haunting—G.C. Present wonders if he wants to continue transforming the lives of strangers. He could retire, get his gold watch, Sephora gift card and return to life as a mortal in present day, but he has his eye on one more client.
He wants to redeem the unredeemable. Clint (Reynolds) is a slick spin doctor who works for politicians and corporations, and, with help from assistant Kimberly (Octavia Spencer), digs up damning dirt on their competitors. Between them they’ve ruined more lives and careers than you can shake a Yule log at.
The charismatic but evil Clint—“He’s like the perfect combination of Mussolini and Seacrest,” says G.C. Present.—turns out to be a challenge. “So, out of all the people on the planet, murderers, people who thrown gender reveal parties,” he says, “I’m the guy you choose to haunt?”
As G.C. Present works to reform Clint, the specter finds himself falling in love and questioning his own path in the afterlife.
“Spirited” is worth the monthly Apple TV+ fee for the Dickensian duet “Good Afternoon” from songwriters Benj Pasek and Justin Paul (Oscar-winners for “La La Land”). Based on the worst insult you could say to someone in 19th century London, it is a showstopper, funny and perfectly suited to the talents of Ferrell and Reynolds.
Both bring their well-established personas to the film. Ferrell’s finely crafted goofiness contrasts with Reynolds’s sardonic character. They’re not exactly Hope and Crosby, but, as funny, all-singing-and-dancing combos go these days, they’ll do. They have great chemistry and riff off one another in a jaunty, good-natured way. It’s lighthearted, very aware—they often break the fourth wall to comment on what is happening in the scene—stuff that updates the 179-year-old story with subplots about the dangers of on-line life in addition to the more traditional themes of the importance of forgiveness, generosity and compassion.
“Spirited” owes a debt not only to “A Christmas Carol” but also, in its modern take, to “Scrooged,” the 1988 Bill Murray movie that shares the same DNA. Like “Scrooged,” “Spirited” finds a way to make an old story, feel fresh and that is its biggest gift to the audience.
Ryan Reynolds has carved out a unique and profitable niche for himself on screen. The current king of the non-IP action comedy, he recently scored big hits with “Red Notice” and “Free Guy,” original movies not based on a comic book or existing videogame premise. This week, add to that list “The Adam Project,” a sci fi adventure flick now streaming on Netflix co-starring Mark Ruffalo and Jennifer Garner.
Adam Reed (Walker Scobell), a precocious thirteen-year-old living with his mother Ellie (Garner), is still stinging from the death of his father a year earlier. “Son, you need to think about your future,” Ellie says, “because it’s coming. Sooner than you think.”
In fact, it may have already arrived.
One day Adam finds a wounded fighter pilot hiding in his family’s garage. Turns out the stranger isn’t a stranger after all. He’s Adam (Reynolds) from the future; the grown-up version with a bullet hole in his side and a mission. “You’re me,” says the awestruck youngster. “That’s classified,” says older Adam, “but yes, I once was.”
The time traveller jumped back to 2022 to save the world, using information created by his late scientist father Louis (Ruffalo). To do complete the mission, he’ll need to jump back in time further, this time with young Adam at his side. First though, there is a time travelling villain (Catherine Keener) and the question of how to come to grips with the past while saving the future.
Time travel movies rarely ever make perfect sense, and “The Adam Project” is no different. Time may be a flat circle, and destined to repeat itself, but the cinematic machinations of jumping from year to year, of changing the past from the future, often make my head hurt and take me out of the story.
“The Adam Project” sneaks by, not because of its grasp of the paradox of theoretical physics, but because if the chemistry between Reynolds and his young co-star Scobell.
Reynolds, reunites with his “Free Guy” director Shawn Levy, brings his trademarked charisma and way with a joke, while Scobell, making his acting debut, is a natural foil. He is funny, charming and holds his own against Reynolds, arguably one of the best scene stealers in movies today.
They click and because they do, the movie works. The sci fi aspects of the story, the Stormtrooper-looking soldiers from the future or the noisy CGI climax, don’t make as much of an impression as the film’s heart and soul, the relations ship between the Adams and their father as they heal the wounds caused by their dad’s death.
“The Adam Project” threatens to allow the special effect fireworks to overshadow its story, but contains just enough heartwarming material to earn comparisons to the 1980s Amblin movies that were clearly an inspiration.
“Red Notice,” a new globe-trotting crime caper movie starring the powerhouse trio of Ryan Reynolds, Gal Godot and Dwayne Johnson, and now streaming on Netflix, is set against the backdrop of international crime and the theft of priceless, ancient treasures.
The story begins in 30 BC as Roman general and statesman Mark Antony gifts his true love Cleopatra with three gilded eggs. Think Fabergé eggs, only bigger and rarer than rare. Two of them are in private hands but a third disappeared thousands of years ago and now an Egyptian businessman has offered a king’s ransom to anyone who can locate the third egg and reunite it with the others in time for his daughter’s birthday. The promise of a huge payday draw the attraction of two international criminals, the smart-alecky art thief Nolan Booth (Ryan Reynolds) and the coolly calculating Sarah Black (Gadot), both the subject of the Interpol-issued Red Notice, a warrant for immediate arrest and detention.
Leading the investigation into the theft of the eggs is Inspector Das (Ritu Arya) with FBI profiler Agent John Hartley (Johnson). When Hartley becomes a suspect in the egg heist, he teams with Booth to prove his innocence and bring Black to justice.
“Red Notice” is an odd couple buddy movie that takes advantage of the existing personas of Johnson and Reynolds. Johnson makes full use of his physicality to provide some goofy slapstick while Reynolds displays his way with a one-liner. They click and make the most of the generic action and plot.
It’s also great example of a deeply average movie made enjoyable by its charismatic cast. If you took away The Rock, Van Wilder and Wonder Woman from the screen all you’d have left is an empty heist flick with exotic locations, implausible plot twists and villains right out of Central Casting.
Instead, the trio brings just enough charm and good times to the story to make it a check your brain at the door old fashioned fun and that’s why I gave “Red Notice” three stars, one star each for each of its stars, Reynolds, Gadot and Johnson.
“Free Guy,” the new Ryan Reynolds action comedy now playing in theatres, has its philosophical moments but no one will confuse its search for the meaning of life with the explorations of Joseph Campbell or Socrates. This is pure pop philosophy that breathes the same air “The Truman Show” and “Edtv,” movies about men who yearn for more than life has offered them.
Reynolds is Guy, a bank teller in Free City, a video game metropolis where the main characters wear sunglasses, have devil-may-care attitudes, cool hair and treat laws as suggestions, not hard and fast rules. Everyone else, including Guy and his best friend Buddy (Lil Rel Howery), are NPC, non-player-characters, who exist simple to give the Sunglasses People someone to rob, beat down, or, in rare cases, flirt with.
They are set decoration in the grand video game of life. “People with sunglasses never talk to people like us,” Buddy says.
One day Guy’s orderly life is thrown a curve when he spots Molotov Girl (Jodie Comer), a gunslinging sunglasses person, who also happen to be the woman of his dreams. Consumed with feelings he has never had before; his behaviors change as he looks for love and meaning in his life. “Maybe I’ll get some sunglasses of my own,” he says.
IRL (In Real Life) Millie (also played by Comer) and Keys (Joe Keery) are former coding superstars whose idea for a videogame that would actually change and grow independently of its users was stolen by evil video game developer Antoine (Taika Waititi). Keys now works for Antoine, while Millie is obsessed with infiltrating the game as Molotov Girl to get evidence for her lawsuit against the obnoxious tech giant.
Soon the line between Guy’s algorithmic life and Millie’s quest blend as “Free Guy” asks, “Do you you have to be a spectator in your own life?”
You need a lot of hyphens to describe “Free Guy.” It’s a video game-rom com-satire-action-comedy that tackles, in a lighthearted way, questions that people had grappled with for thousands of years. “What is the meaning of life?” Guy asks. “What if nothing matters.” But don’t fret, this isn’t Camus. The nihilism that usually goes along with big questions about life is replaced with video game action and brewing romance.
Reynolds brings his trademarked way with a line to play man child Guy. He’s the definition of bright-eyed-and-bushy-tailed, able to give Guy the naïve quality he would have as someone just coming to consciousness, driven by feelings he doesn’t understand, as it slowly dawns on him that he is free to make his own decisions.
Comer, best known for her Emmy Award winning work in “Killing Eve,” deftly hops between real life and Free City, creating two characters with a shared goal. She’s mostly present as a sounding board for Guy’s awakening, but Comer brings personality to both roles.
Ultimately “Free Guy” doesn’t teach us anything about life we couldn’t have learned from any number of episodes of “Oprah,” but the message that life doesn’t have to be something that just happens to us is delivered with a heaping helping of humor, heart and Reynold’s brand of irreverence.
