Tommy Boy (United States, 1995)

While watching Chris Farley, still at the top of his game, perform in Tommy Boy, it’s easy to ignore how fundamentally bad the overall movie is. A card-carrying member of the bloated, frat-boy comedies that plagued theaters during the early 1990s, Tommy Boy relied on Farley’s larger-than-life persona to generate laughs. To a degree, it worked. Farley is magnetic and charismatic throughout but most of the rest of the film is simply wretched. Critics were split, with Roger Ebert famously giving it one star and putting it on his list of the most-hated all-time movies. But audiences reacted favorably and the movie has gone on to build a devoted fan base. However, as anything other than a memorial to the former SNL star whose life tragically ended a week before Christmas 1997 after losing a battle with addiction, Tommy Boy doesn’t work appreciably better on its 30th anniversary than it did on the day of its release.

The movie is essentially a bunch of loosely-related sketches cobbled together – not entirely surprising considering the number of ex-Saturday Night Live participants in front of and behind the cameras. In addition to Farley, David Spade and Dan Aykroyd have visible parts. Producer Lorne Michaels and writers Bonnie & Terry Turner all came from Studio 8H at 30 Rock. Although director Peter Segal was not an SNL alum, he would go on to make films featuring several high-profile former cast members, including Eddie Murphy and Adam Sandler.

Tommy Boy follows the misadventures of the good-natured but unmotivated title character as he attempts to save Callahan Auto, an Ohio-based auto parts manufacturing plant, from financial ruin. In the wake of the death of Tommy’s father, Big Tom (Brian Dennehy), the recent college grad finds himself in over his head. Paired with Big Tom’s sarcastic protégé, Richard Hayden (David Spade), Tommy embarks on a road trip to drum up sales. Unbeknownst to him, his new stepmother, Beverly Barrish-Burns (Bo Derek), and her son, Paul (Rob Lowe), are working against him. If he fails, they stand to make a fortune by selling the company to a rival businessman, Ray Zalinsky (Dan Aykroyd). An inordinate amount of time is spent chronicling Tommy and Richard’s trip through the Rust Belt before stumbling to the inevitable conclusion in which Tommy upends that bad guys and gets the girl – in this case, office worker Michelle Brock (Julie Warner).

The uneven tone keeps the film from ever catching fire. There are laughs to be had but, perhaps surprisingly, the only one to approach Farley on a comedic level is Rob Lowe, who elected to appear uncredited. Farley’s trademark physicality is much in evidence and there are brief moments of pathos that indicate he might have been able to transition to drama as had been his plan at the time of his death. (He was preparing to star in a bio-pic of silent film legend Fatty Arbuckle.) Bo Derek shows that her acting isn’t any better when she’s wearing clothing and her husband isn’t behind the lens. And, as the obligatory love interest, Julie Warner (who was so good opposite Michael J. Fox in Doc Hollywood) is wasted, and she shows minimal chemistry with the leading man. Contrast that with Spade, whose oil-and-water interactions with Farley recall another great mismatched relationship: John Candy and Steve Martin in Planes, Trains and Automobiles.

Farley’s untimely death has undoubtedly increased the value of the film in the eyes of his fans. Insofar as big screen appearances are concerned, this represents the best of him. He openly expressed dismay with his other collaboration with Spade, Black Sheep, and addiction robbed some of his other movie performances of their zest. Like his hero, John Belushi, Farley was undone by his demons and the left behind more than a whiff of unfulfilled promise. Tommy Boy isn’t a great movie but it’s a reasonable representation of the star and worth watching exclusively for anyone curious about his magnetism. I just wish this had been wittier, funnier, and overall more entertaining. Unlike its star, it feels tired. The passage of thirty years isn’t long enough to elevate what it’s peddling.

Tommy Boy (United States, 1995)