John Candy: I Like Me

I was lucky enough to grow up in the 80's, when comedies were treated with the same importance as a superhero movie is now. And while there were a truly dizzying amount of comedies and comedic actors, nobody made a comedy feel must-see like John Candy. His sense of timing, his natural give-and-take with virtually anybody, his everyman charm, and his selflessness to make everybody around him and the movie itself that much better by doing whatever it took shone through in every film he was in. I had a difficult relationship with my father, and I remember seeing Uncle Buck and wishing he was my dad. He just seemed so genuine and good-natured and sweet. Normally, one of these retrospective documentaries has the tendency to peel back the curtain and spoil the image of its subject. The Paul Reubens documentary, while good, made him come off as a bit of a selfish jerk. I had hopes that a documentary with this title wouldn't end up spoiling the image I had in my head of one of my all-time favorite actors, and if you're familiar with him, the image you have in yours as well. I am happy to say it does the opposite: it underscores that image, with poignancy and a bittersweet touch that makes him that much more lovable. That love is on display with virtually everybody who talks about him, and director Colin Hanks got damned near everybody you can think of. From family to childhood friends to fellow actors and old SCTV alum, there isn't a moment of his life brushed over, and nobody has anything bad to say about him. Hell, Bill Murray even makes that into a joke in his interview. As his character Del Griffith in Planes, Trains, & Automobiles said, "I'm the real article, what you see is what you get", and that fully applies to John Candy. If you thought he was probably a big, lovable teddy bear, you're right. He had a family and he loved them dearly. He loved making people laugh, and he loved working with people who could get into a back-and-forth. He also had his tragic side, having lost his father on his own fifth birthday at the age of 35; that haunted him for the rest of his life. It drove him in a lot of ways, both good and bad, but I Like Me goes to great length to say it never corrupted or spoiled him. It was just a shadow on his heart. I Like Me is not revolutionary by any stretch. Archival footage, talking heads, you know the drill. But it isn't trying to be anything more than what it is, which is a celebration of a man who made the world a little brighter, and was taken far, far too soon. You can see the measure of the man in how people talk about him, 30 years after he passed, as several people still tear up talking about his passing. I Like Me might help younger generations come to understand him a bit more besides being that weird guy obsessed with polka in Home Alone, but it's really meant for us, the ones who grew up seeing Candy's movies in the theaters. The ones who see a big steak and think of The Ol' 96'er. The ones who look at their shower curtain and call the rings "Walter Cronkite mood rings". Is this movie a genuine five star movie? Maybe not. But I can't be unbiased here. John Candy is deeply intertwined in my childhood. I see him and I smile, and a lump grows in my throat thinking of all the movies he could've and should've been in. I'm thankful for I Like Me. Not because I needed to be reminded of what made John Candy special, but to confirm that what I felt about him was right.