The world’s greatest dad: “You used to like music.”
The world’s greatest son: “Yeah. When I was a fag. Anyone who listens to music is a fag.”
The world’s greatest dad: “Oh, what about metal? Is metal for fags?”
The world’s greatest son: “Yeah.”
-A couple of fags, deciding to try and bond
“Though a little slow and light on gags, this is a bold attack by writer-director Bobcat Goldthwait on the kind of facile, pseudo-redemptive tosh so popular on both sides of the Atlantic.”
-Christopher Tookey, Daily Mail
“Not one character seemed to be anything more than a set-up for the film's contrived agenda, in a loud film that was too disingenuous for me to find any character to identify with or care about as the film eventually punks out and offers up great heaps of gooey drivel after a good start realistically showing an unpleasant father-son relationship.”
-Dennis Schwartz, Ozus’ World Movie Reviews
“The intimate, grim character study shifts into grotesque high satire and suddenly wants to make a point with a capital ‘P.’ It’s hard to argue with Goldthwait’s assertion that society’s search for spokesmen leads to false prophets, but it feels like an observation well-made many times over in the ’90s, at the height of anti-celebrity culture.”
-Justin Strout, Orlando Weekly
“Instead of coming off as compassionate to the sad sack Lance, it feels snide and all too willing to scowl at the goodness in people. With more consistency of vision, or any vision at all, really, World’s Greatest Dad could [be] seen as a statement the about damaged lives that we all live. As is, however, it is a mess.”
-Jeremy Heilman, MovieMartyr.com
Wrapping up this scant month of reviews comes a sleeper hit starring Robin Williams, the 2009 film known as “World’s Greatest Dad.”
First of all, for any children of the 80’s such as myself, it probably needs to be said that the director for this film is Bobcat Goldthwait. For any children of the 80’s who still haven’t heard of him, you might recognize him better as this guy (the one with the ping-pong ball in his mouth).
All caught up now? Good, because apparently the guy from “Scrooged” who shot up the place has done more than one movie. As well as the Jimmy Kimmel show and Chappelle’s Show. Seriously.
For those of you who have just caught up with me, though, Goldthwait is probably one of those examples of how we shouldn’t judge a book by its cover. Exhibit A was that first video I linked to. Exhibit B was the second video. And Exhibit C, in case you don’t believe this guy is a comic genius, happens to be “World’s Greatest Dad.”
“World’s Greatest Dad” is a fairly dark film—not unyieldingly so, we do see those idealistic moments encapsulated in Williams himself, as well as various members of the ensemble—but the moment we see the world’s greatestfag son quoted above, we know this isn’t exactly going to be “Leave It To Beaver.” (Btw, has that line been used enough over the past fifty years that I should just stop using it? And has anyone, ever, actually watched “Leave It To Beaver”? I’m still convinced it’s just a myth.)
I’m going to try not to spoil it (even though every other review I’ve seen is pretty open about it, and you can read all about it on Wikipedia). At the end of the day, it’s a fairly character-driven piece, which becomes apparent the moment we get to meet the son. And the humor, as macabre as it may be, is also organic and rises out of the situation; there isn’t really anything forced about it. About halfway through the film, it moves slowly from character study to high satire, but it never really loses the human touch of Robin Williams’s reserved performance.
A special mention goes to the scene where he decides to write the suicide note. At first, it just seems to come out of left field (well, more so than most other letters to our loved ones), and I wasn’t really sure why he was doing this. Then I thought quietly to myself, “Oh, right. Because I would want to get caught doing that.” As black as this comedy gets, the sheer emotional torque of the scene is more than enough to save it. And Goldthwait, as subversive a filmmaker as he is a comedian, still gives us some beacon of light around the hour-and-a-half mark.
Obviously, The Brewsky gives this film a glowing recommendation. If you can manage to catch a night away from the young’uns and rent it from your local Blockbuster, it will be worth every minute. It’s good for a quiet night at home curled up with your sweetheart on the couch, discussing the merits of self-inflicted martyrdom and last wills and testaments and their correlative relationship with mob mentality. As well as whether or not you should add Bruce Hornsby to your iPod.
Note: The Brewsky is an enthusiastic contributor and movie reviewer. And a fag. Yeah, I said it.
The world’s greatest son: “Yeah. When I was a fag. Anyone who listens to music is a fag.”
The world’s greatest dad: “Oh, what about metal? Is metal for fags?”
The world’s greatest son: “Yeah.”
-A couple of fags, deciding to try and bond
“Though a little slow and light on gags, this is a bold attack by writer-director Bobcat Goldthwait on the kind of facile, pseudo-redemptive tosh so popular on both sides of the Atlantic.”
-Christopher Tookey, Daily Mail
“Not one character seemed to be anything more than a set-up for the film's contrived agenda, in a loud film that was too disingenuous for me to find any character to identify with or care about as the film eventually punks out and offers up great heaps of gooey drivel after a good start realistically showing an unpleasant father-son relationship.”
-Dennis Schwartz, Ozus’ World Movie Reviews
“The intimate, grim character study shifts into grotesque high satire and suddenly wants to make a point with a capital ‘P.’ It’s hard to argue with Goldthwait’s assertion that society’s search for spokesmen leads to false prophets, but it feels like an observation well-made many times over in the ’90s, at the height of anti-celebrity culture.”
-Justin Strout, Orlando Weekly
“Instead of coming off as compassionate to the sad sack Lance, it feels snide and all too willing to scowl at the goodness in people. With more consistency of vision, or any vision at all, really, World’s Greatest Dad could [be] seen as a statement the about damaged lives that we all live. As is, however, it is a mess.”
-Jeremy Heilman, MovieMartyr.com
Wrapping up this scant month of reviews comes a sleeper hit starring Robin Williams, the 2009 film known as “World’s Greatest Dad.”
First of all, for any children of the 80’s such as myself, it probably needs to be said that the director for this film is Bobcat Goldthwait. For any children of the 80’s who still haven’t heard of him, you might recognize him better as this guy (the one with the ping-pong ball in his mouth).
All caught up now? Good, because apparently the guy from “Scrooged” who shot up the place has done more than one movie. As well as the Jimmy Kimmel show and Chappelle’s Show. Seriously.
For those of you who have just caught up with me, though, Goldthwait is probably one of those examples of how we shouldn’t judge a book by its cover. Exhibit A was that first video I linked to. Exhibit B was the second video. And Exhibit C, in case you don’t believe this guy is a comic genius, happens to be “World’s Greatest Dad.”
“World’s Greatest Dad” is a fairly dark film—not unyieldingly so, we do see those idealistic moments encapsulated in Williams himself, as well as various members of the ensemble—but the moment we see the world’s greatest
I’m going to try not to spoil it (even though every other review I’ve seen is pretty open about it, and you can read all about it on Wikipedia). At the end of the day, it’s a fairly character-driven piece, which becomes apparent the moment we get to meet the son. And the humor, as macabre as it may be, is also organic and rises out of the situation; there isn’t really anything forced about it. About halfway through the film, it moves slowly from character study to high satire, but it never really loses the human touch of Robin Williams’s reserved performance.
A special mention goes to the scene where he decides to write the suicide note. At first, it just seems to come out of left field (well, more so than most other letters to our loved ones), and I wasn’t really sure why he was doing this. Then I thought quietly to myself, “Oh, right. Because I would want to get caught doing that.” As black as this comedy gets, the sheer emotional torque of the scene is more than enough to save it. And Goldthwait, as subversive a filmmaker as he is a comedian, still gives us some beacon of light around the hour-and-a-half mark.
Obviously, The Brewsky gives this film a glowing recommendation. If you can manage to catch a night away from the young’uns and rent it from your local Blockbuster, it will be worth every minute. It’s good for a quiet night at home curled up with your sweetheart on the couch, discussing the merits of self-inflicted martyrdom and last wills and testaments and their correlative relationship with mob mentality. As well as whether or not you should add Bruce Hornsby to your iPod.
Note: The Brewsky is an enthusiastic contributor and movie reviewer. And a fag. Yeah, I said it.
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