Director Report Card: Michael Lehmann (2002)

7. 40 Days and 40 Nights

In 1999, Jason Biggs fucked a pie. Gross-out gags like that, alongside other debatable merits, made “American Pie” a surprise blockbuster. That film's success would revive the teen sex comedy. There were sequels to “American Pie,” of course, alongside flicks like “The Girl Next Door,” “Van Wilder,” “Slackers,” “Tomcats,” and trips both “Road” and “Euro.” There was even a parody, the surest sign a type of movie had reached pop culture saturation. This disreputable subgenre even reached a certain level of critical respect once Judd Apatow got involved. Eventually, the 2000s teen sex comedy would die in the same place all overexposed fad genres do: The direct-to-video market, the halls of Blockbuster Video clogged with movies heavy on boobs and fart jokes but not brains. A few years into this misbegotten wave came “40 Days and 40 Nights,” which once again saw Michael Lehmann trying to enliven uninspiring material.  

Matt Sullivan works for a successful dot-com company. He's recently broken up from his girlfriend, Nicole. Though he has no trouble getting laid, he remains emotionally stuck on her. After discovering Nicole is engaged, Matt decides to make a change. He gives up all forms of sex for the forty days and nights of Lent. Literally the night after swearing off orgasms, Matt meets Erica. The two have an immediate chemistry together. His vow of abstinence is further complicated when his co-workers start a betting pool around it. Matt now has to romance Erica, maintain his commitment, keep his friends off his back, and not go crazy.

Referring to “40 Days and 40 Nights” as a teen sex comedy is technically a misnomer. All the characters are young professionals, in their twenties. Despite that, they all have a totally juvenile fascination with sex. The guys, both the young and old, constantly talk about sex. Erica works for a company that censors internet porn. His boss is an old horndog, talking about his sex life and seeing sexual scenarios in every image. Even his parents talk about sex! Doin' it seems to be the only thing his friends ever discuss. It seems unlikely to me that a bunch of co-workers would be as obsessed with their friend's sex life as these guys are. At one point, they even follow him into the public bathroom to see if he's masturbated. I think about sex plenty but all of this strikes me as excessive. It's been said that some guys think with their dicks. I think “40 Days and 40 Nights” was written with a dick.

Our hero in this copulation fixated story is a guy that has no problem attracting women. Matt is introduced having sex with a beautiful woman. He's in bed with another supermodel shortly afterwards. His pledge of chastity is complicated by random babes trying to seduce him. His trouble is actually that he's fucking too much to emotionally resolve his baggage for his ex. A protagonist doesn't always have to be relatable for a movie to be good. But I would say the majority of young men cannot relate to Matt's strife here. “American Pie” was about guys trying to get laid, which was maybe a factor in its popularity. A guy like Matt, a philandering lothario who picks 'em up and knocks 'em down, is not immediately endearing. In fact, he's kind of guy a lot of guys hate. Many men go far longer than 40 days without sex and the implication that such a stretch would be unbearable is kind of insulting.

Josh Hartnett stars as Matt. According to IMDb trivia – admittedly a less than reliable source – Hartnett attempted to replicate his character's abstinent lifestyle and gave up after twenty days. Hartnett is the type of blandly handsome actor a lot of nerds hated exactly because he was such a stud. Compared to a lot of his contemporaries, Hartnett definitely has limited range. There's a certain stiffness to his delivery no matter the circumstances. Yet, truthfully, Hartnett does his best. He's got a winning smile. As a physical comedian, he does pretty well. A scene where he catches his shirt on fire is a bit of decently executed slapstick. Hartnett manages to make the running gag of Matt building model cars, whenever he thinks about sex, mildly amusing. He plays Matt as someone who sex just happens to, instead of a guy who actively goes looking for. This at least doesn't make the character a sleaze ball. Yet it would take a star a lot more innately likable than Hartnett to overcome “40 Days and 40 Nights'” off-putting content.

A lot of sex comedies have not aged well. Movies packed with crude humor and designed to be wish fulfillment fantasies for teen boys are, unsurprisingly, frequently problematic. “40 Days and 40 Nights” is no different in this regard. The film is set in the dot-com industry before the bubble bursts and reflects that gross tech-bro corporate culture. The men and women in Matt's company are seemingly segregated by gender. The guys are constantly bragging about their sexual conquests. They seem to consider sex nothing more than a game of who can fuck more. Unsurprisingly, the boss is eventually depicted sexually harassing his employees – female and male, in fact – without any condemnation or irony. The entire movie is rooted in this rotten mindset. In fact, “40 Days and 40 Nights” might be a little worst than your average sex comedy because all its characters are ostensibly grown adults who should definitely know better. 

Of course, nothing makes old sex comedies more politically incorrect than their nonexistent respect of consent. Yes, “40 Days and 40 Nights” inevitably features a rape joke... And somehow it's worst than you might expect. After successfully getting through Lent without ejaculating, Matt's friend handcuffs him to his bed for reasons that aren't well defined. That's when Nicole, who wants him now that she can't have him, breaks into the house and fucks him while he's restrained and unconscious. Yes, the protagonist of this movie is raped by his ex-girlfriend. No, she is never punished for this horrible crime. Yes, Erica accuses Matt of cheating and blames him for what happened. He even has to apologize to her for unambiguously assaulted! This light hearted comedy features victim blaming, the myth that consent doesn't matter for men, and that sexual assault is no big deal. This, somehow, makes “40 Days and 40 Nights” equally offensive towards women and men. 

Obviously, “40 Days and 40 Nights” is an incredibly crass movies. There's an early sight gag involving semen and a condom. There's an extended joke about a spontaneous erection. Matt eventually begins imagining every woman around him naked, giving the movie its required gratuitous nudity. Yet I could almost accept all this if the movie committed to its sleazy misanthropy. Instead, “40 Days and 40 Nights” also tries to be a traditional romantic-comedy. Matt and Erica's romance is played totally straight. It has all the hacky writing of your usual rom-com, the couple being forced apart by contrived misunderstandings at all the expected points. Seemingly, the script wants us to be invested in these two actually getting together. Frankly, it's a bit insulting that the movie wants to have it both ways. Don't spend the majority of your run time reducing all the complexity of male/female relationships down to just fuckin' and then expect us to care about whether Matt and Erica fall in love at the end.

By the way, Erica is played by Shannyn Sossamon, underrated nineties siren. Despite sporting a series of truly unfortunate haircuts, Sossamon is as charming and alluring here as ever. The scenes where Sossamon and Hartnett meet in a laundromat and bond over drying sheets would almost be cute, in a movie less suffocatingly gross than this one. Unfortunately, Sossamon does not get out of this movie with her dignity intact. Matt and Erica do not consummate their relationship, because that's the entire premise of the movie. But that doesn't stop them from having a sex scene of sorts. The two strip down and Matt paws at her semi-naked body with rose petals. This, somehow, brings her to orgasm. I never doubted that the writer of “40 Days and 40 Nights” didn't understand women before this scene. Yet this uproariously goofy and un-sexy moment raises questions about if they even understand basic physiology. 

Sossamon, for whatever it's worth, is not the only likable performer who is humiliated during the film. Maggie Gyllenhaal plays Erica's best friend and roommate, forced to crack some embarrassingly randy dialogue. Griffin Dunne – who once played a much more likable horndog – appears as Matt's boss. The overly horny script sees Dunne drooling over every female he sees and climaxing in a bathroom stall. I hope he got paid well because I felt so bad for him. Vinessa Shaw is reduced to the worst kind of feminine stereotype here, a succubus who destroys men both by denying them sex and conquering them during it. The rest of the guys in the movie are total douche bags and the actors – who I'm sure are nice enough in real life – embody the parts wholly.

Sadly, the off-putting quality of “40 Days and 40 Nights” extends behind the camera too. The visual composition of the movie is frequently unpleasant. The camera jerks around, weird crash-zooms and unfortunate bursts of handheld footage, at random intervals. I can only assume this was done to incorporate some manic energy into the proceedings. It just results in making the film seem badly photographed. For whatever it works, I can see a little more of Michael Lehmann's trademarks here than in his last few movies. A dream sequences where Matt imagines himself flying over a sea of giant breasts does, if nothing else, have some of the same absurd qualities of “Heathers” or “Hudson Hawk.”

While reviewing “The Truth About Cats & Dogs,” I noted that the movie's soundtrack was frequently intrusive. This was not an uncommon feature of nineties rom-com, as I guess studios hoped they could squeeze a few more dollars out of a film if it had a hit soundtrack. The song choices in “40 Days and 40 Nights” are often distracting as well. INXS blares in one unimportant scene, while a mildly funky cover of “Loves Me Like a Rock' is plastered over another montage. The most baffling musical choice occurs when alt-rock hit “Wonderful” plays over a scene of Matt contemplating pornography. Because what makes you hornier than the guy from Everclear's broken childhood? An ear-splitting number from the Prozzak playing over the end credits is the final nail in the audiovisual coffin. I do like the Semisonic song included in one romantic montage, the subject of the song even lining up with the subject of the film.

“40 Days and 40 Nights” managed to be a modest box office success, grossing 37 million dollars against a 17 million dollar budget. The reviews were mostly negative, though Roger Ebert gave it a weirdly positive review. In the years since the film's release, few people have had cause to talk about it... Even the movie's writer, Rob Perez, seems to look back on the production with many regrets. When the film is remembered at all, it's usually to mock that ludicrous flower-assisted love scene. The past is really were an unfortunate farce like this belongs, where its skin-crawling sexual politics and pedestrian gags can be dismissed as acts of a less enlightened period. And these days, it’s impossible to watch the movie without thinking of the infamous NoFap subculture, a well intentioned movement that was quickly co-opted by he-man woman haters and spawned several disturbing spin-offs of its own. I doubt if even those guys are aware of this film. Even if “40 Days and 40 Nights” wasn't rapey and sexist, it still wouldn't be funny. [Grade: D]

Director Report Card: Michael Lehmann (1998)

6. My Giant

It might be impossible to imagine this now but, once upon a time, Billy Crystal was an actual box office draw. Here in 2022, Crystal's shtick is so stale that he seems like a relic of another era. And yet, for many years, Crystal was a popular comedian, propelled on the backs of cultural forces like “Saturday Night Live” and “Soap.” As the nineties started, he had two of the biggest hits of his careers, with “When Harry Met Sally” and “City Slickers.”  Even though Crystal had some box office disappointments throughout the decade, like “Mr. Saturday Night” and “Fathers' Day,” the star still had enough pull in 1998 to get a project greenlit. 

“My Giant” was, in fact, a passion project for Crystal. The movie was inspired by the friendship Crystal forged with Andre the Giant while filming “The Princess Bride.” He co-wrote the story with David Seltzer. In a bizarre turn of events, Crystal originally wanted to play the titular giant before being talked into being the shorter co-star. Michael Lehmann chose the film as the follow-up to “The Truth About Cats & Dogs” (and two more episodes of “The Larry Sanders Show”) for reasons I can only speculate on. Directing a movie with a beloved comedy icon and proven hit-maker probably seemed like a good idea to the director, following his first actual box office success. Alas, “My Giant” would not be as sure a shot as it seemed. Let's dissect this further.

Sammy Kamin is a sleazy talent agent. His wife is getting ready to divorce him, his son resents him, and the promising young actor he represents has just fired him. Lost in the Romanian countryside, he crashes his car. A massive pair of hands pulls Sammy from the wreckage and he awakens in a monastery. There, he meets his savior: A nearly eight foot tall man named Max. Impressed by the gentle giant, Sammy immediately tries to get him cast in the historical epic filming near-by. All Max wants is to be reunited with his childhood crush but Sam convinces him to try acting. Sam soon has Max traveling to America, to pursue performing, equally growing fond of and exploiting his new friend.

Probably the most interesting question “My Giant” grapples with is the same one that has always surrounded people born with extraordinary differences. When Sammy meets Max, he's blown away by his physical appearance and charming personality. He gives Max a path to see the world, to leave his home and become famous. At the same time, Sammy is using Max's unusual appearance as a way to make money. This comes to a head in the sequence where Max does a one-night stint as a pro-wrestler, where he's humiliated and mocked for his appearance. Considering the movie is inspired by Andre the Giant, one assumes this is Billy Crystal's opinion on how the pro-wrestling industry treated his friend. At least “My Giant” is self-aware enough to depict its protagonist as equally in awe of and exploiting his friend.

That's about the only really interesting thing “My Giant” does. Crystal might have set out to make a homage to his deceased friend – the film is dedicated to Andre's memory – but the film is ultimately not about its giant so much. Instead, “My Giant” occupies itself with Sammy Kamin's completely predictable character arc. He begins the movie as a complete heel. (And not the pro-wrestler kind.) He's obsessed with his career, neglecting his family. He uses Max's naivety as a way to further his own career. It's only after he becomes friends with the guy, and after he realizes Max is living on borrowed time, that he starts to behave responsibly. This is the standard story of a self-centered jerk defrosting and finding his heart again. 

Yet, as many ethically dubious things as Sammy does, “My Giant” is too chicken-shit to actually make him a proper scoundrel. Like all dads in a nineties family comedy, he's on the verge of divorce from his wife. He's never there for his son, who doesn't respect him. Naturally, both of these very relatable plot points are resolved in as sappy a way as possible. Because isn't a film about an eight foot tall man ultimately the story of a mediocre middle-age white guy about to leave his wife? One of “My Giant's” many failings is that it wants us to like Sammy too much, building much of the movie around his unremarkable plotline. Instead of running with the parts of its script that are actually interesting. 

That's because, no matter how much “My Giant” pretends it's about Max, this is ultimately Billy Crystal's project. The film begins and ends with him delivering pithy voice-overs, directly to the audience. He gets to throw lots of easy one-liners around, especially when faced with the monastery or Max for the first time. And, sure, one or two of these lines are worth a laugh. Yet it feels like Andre the Giant's extraordinary life probably could have inspired a pretty good film, if it actually focused on the giant. Instead, Crystal's ego prevails here. This is presumably why any director trademarks of Michael Lehmann are completely impossible to spot here. Crystal might as well have directed “My Giant” himself. 

Andre the Giant's unique screen presence could not easily be replicated, for many reasons. To fill the titular role, “My Giant” went similarly outside the acting world. Romanian basketball player Gheorghe Mureșan, who really is seven feet seven inches tall, was recruited to play Max. Mureșan is not an actor. His line delivery is frequently stiff and awkward, further hindered by his thick accent. And yet there is something to be said for his performance here. The guy does have an easy-going, goofy charm. He seems genuinely delighted to be in a movie. He has decent chemistry with Crystal. The few times “My Giant's” emotional elements work is strictly because Mureșan brings a certain pathos to the role, largely owing to the fact that he really does know what life is like when you are especially tall.

Whatever comedic value “My Giant” has is also owed to Gheorghe Mureșan. The big kid enthusiasm he has enlivens a handful of scenes, such as when he squeezes into a tiny car or pretends to be an established movie star. Otherwise, the humor in the film rarely elicits laughter. Lots of Crystal's one-liners are hammy. There's several moments of broad slapstick that simply feel out-of-place. During Max's first day of acting, he gets drunk to ease his nerves. This climaxes when he unleashes a geyser of on-screen vomit. (One bottle of wine achieves this when, in real life, Andre the Giant could effortlessly consume massive amounts of alcohol.)  There's also some misplaced burp and fart jokes. Probably the comedic low point of “My Giant” comes early on, when there's a reaction shot form a stunned sheep. 

These moments of low-brow humor stick out even worst as the movie goes on and develops an unsightly sentimental streak. Once the story turns towards the revelation that Max only has so much time left, the film gets increasingly goopy in its emotions. There's more focus on reuniting him with his childhood crush, as well as Sam's dissolving marriage. The two storylines meet in a scene that might've been sweet in a different movie but comes off as utterly mawkish here. It's always a tricky tonal balancing act when a goofy comedy suddenly decides to get heartfelt in its last act. “My Giant” absolutely does not have the skills to pull that off. The big emotions the final scene tries to summon are in no way earned by the movie that proceeded it.

About the only pleasure “My Giant” really gives me is its strangest subplot. Sammy's estranged son is a big fan of Steven Seagal. The plot hinges around Sammy getting onto the Las Vegas set of Seagal's new movie. He convinces the producers to rewrite the script on the spot so that a Shakespeare quoting, heavily-accented giant is the villain. This strains belief but not as much as Steven Seagal being considered a major star in 1998. That was the same year Seagal made his first direct-to-video film, after increasingly diminished returns in theaters. Only a few years later, Seagal would totally disappear from multiplexes, rarely allowed to return ever again. Considering Seagal's raging ego, I can only imagine what hoops he made Lehmann leap through. Seeing Seagal try and act like a normal human being, much less deliver humorous dialogue during a phone call with Sammy's son, is far more surreal and entertaining than anything else in “My Giant.” One really can't help but assume that the film was written with another action hero in mind and Seagal was the first one that said yes. 

Aside from Vladimir Putin's favorite aikido instructor and his ropy attempts at comedy, there are a few other familiar faces in “My Giant.” In fact, the movie features some surprise appearances nearly as unexpected as Seagal. Dan Castellaneta – Homer Simpson himself – has a bit part as a production assistant. He's immediately recognizable to people who know what voice actors look like. Verne Troyer, a year before he became Mini-Me, has an even bitter part as one of the wrestlers Max grapples with. Sammy's extended family, during an embarrassing scene where Max joins him at dinner, includes Doris Roberts and Estelle Harris. Both play extremely Doris Roberts and Estelle Harris-like parts. Of the supporting cast, only Kathleen Quinlan as Sammy's wife gives a genuinely sweet performance. She's the primary reason a key moment in the last act is kind of cute, as opposed to totally stiff.

Unsurprisingly, “My Giant” was another box office flop for its director. It only made 8 million against a 20 million dollar budget. I can't imagine a premise this gimmicky, especially when attached to a star as hammy as Crystal, attracted audiences much. The reviews were even more unkind than the grosses. Critics largely trashed the film, with most agreeing that its sentimentality did not blend well with its broad comedic instincts. I actually like the movie a little more than that but agree it's a misfire. Crystal's career would snap back the next year, with the equally gimmicky but far funnier “Analyze This.” Gheorghe Mureșan, on the other hand, would stick to basketball and never attempt acting again. Who could blame him, as “My Giant” was an instantly forgotten piece of nineties pop culture debris. [Grade: C]

Director Report Card: Michael Lehmann (1996)

5. The Truth About Cats & Dogs

None of Michael Lehmann's movies had ever made much money. “Heathers” quickly became a beloved cult classic but flopped in 1986. Nobody saw “Meet the Applegates,” “Hudson Hawk” was a notorious failure, and “Airheads” came and went without much notice at all. Yet Lehmann was able to continue working, by shifting his focus to television. Between 1994 and 1997, he would direct five episodes of beloved comedy series, “The Larry Sanders Show.” That obviously showed that Lehmann could still get something made on time and under budget. This was presumably a factor in him getting hired to direct “The Truth About Cats & Dogs,” an entry into that most light-weight and predictable of genres: The nineties romantic-comedy.

Abby is the host of a radio advice show geared towards pet owners. Every day, she fields advice from people with sick or misbehaving pets. One day, she receives a call from Brian, a dreamy-sounding photographer who is having trouble with a dog he's photographing. The two immediately hit it off. Abby, however, lacks confidence in her appearance. In a moment of insecurity, the short, mousy woman describes herself as looking like a tall, leggy, blonde model. Coincidentally, that model – a woman named Noelle – happens to live in Abby's apartment. The two become friends and she talks Noelle into posing as her in-person, while Abby continues to romance Brian over the phone. As feelings grow more complicated, the question arises over how long the two women can keep up the deception.

Within a few minutes of watching “The Truth About Cats & Dogs,” you figure out what the movie is doing. This is a gender-flipped “Cyrano de Bergerac,” updated for the nineties. Many of the classic story's themes, such as the fear of presenting yourself honestly to someone you love, are timeless. Yet the screenplay, from late writer Audrey Wells, is also clearly about issues that were facing women at the time. As a woman, Abby feels how physical appearance is valued over anything else, much more than personally. One assumes that Wells' script was inspired by the pressures put on women to align their personal value with their beauty. This is a pretty important topic to discuss and one that easily could've made “The Truth About Cats & Dogs” an insightful and cutting motion picture.

Instead, “The Truth About Cats & Dogs” is a nineties rom-com, a style notorious for relying upon formula and cliches. The film uncritically follows many of the hallmarks of the genre. Naturally, Noelle begins to develop feelings for Brian too. This leads to a wedge being driven between the two women, the dramatic events that shakes the story up in the last third. Simple misunderstandings that easily could've been talked out are instead allowed to escalate into big arguments. Despite that, everything works out for a syrupy, happy ending. “The Truth About Cats & Dogs” even includes a wise best friend character for Brian, played by future superstar Jamie Foxx in a role absolutely anyone could've done. At least he's not a sassy gay man. (Though the Cool Black Friend feels like as much of a cliché on its own.)

The most ridiculous contrivances of “The Truth About Cats & Dogs” is irrevocably baked into its premise. Brian has to be a pretty enormous idiot not to immediately figure out what is going on here. Noelle sounds nothing like Abby. She clearly has a totally different personality from Abby. The type of conversations she has with Brian are completely unlike his talks with Abby. Meanwhile, he never notices that “Donna,” “Abby's” friend, happens to sound and act exactly like the woman he talks on the phone for hours with. It's a hard pill to swallow. Also difficult to swallow is the idea that nobody would be attracted to Janeane Garofalo. Maybe she's not a supermodel – and I understand that it's more Abby's hang-ups holding her back than her appearance – but she's hardly a Cyrano either. Garofalo is lovely all throughout the film and suggesting otherwise is honestly insulting.

But maybe complaining about the cliches and contrivances of the rom-com genre is besides the point. I love eighties slasher movies and action films, finding the reoccurring tropes and stereotypes in those movies to be charming and fun. For fans of this type of thing, maybe "The Truth About Cats & Dogs'" commitment to formula is a feature, not a bug. Yet I still think this movie fails on its own standards in some big ways. If this was meant to be a vehicle for Janeane Garofalo, it definitely lets her down. Garofalo got famous for her sarcastic stand-up. The character of Abby allows her few chances to flex this muscle. Only the scenes where she talking to increasingly ridiculous callers, or a brief moment where she has to improvise a personality for "Donna" in seconds, show Garofalo's gift for snark.

Abby is obviously the film's protagonist but Uma Thurman as Noelle gets top billing. Because Hollywood marketing pays more attention to leggy blondes than short brunettes too, I guess. Noelle is one of many roles where Thurman, a versatile and intense actress, is underserved by the material. Noelle is flighty, shallow, and impulsive. She repeatedly points out she never eats anything. She dates a jerk, despite everyone around her pointing out he's a jerk. She gets caught up in the act and starts making out with Brian. While the film seems to be making some sort of point about how society's expectations twist women up, Noelle is never given any real depth. Thurman plays a goofy, ditzy blonde and is rarely given a chance to expand beyond that archetype. Only the scenes where she interacts with Garofalo generate much interest. 

Brian, the third corner of the story's triangle, is played by Ben Chaplin. The minute Chaplin appeared on-screen, my brain just kept thinking "Who the hell is this guy?" Chaplin is a blandly handsome leading man, distinguished more by his British accent than anything else. Chaplin presumably got cast because of his prior appearance in "The Remains of the Day" and would go on to a largely forgettable character actor's career. He's fine here, I guess. Again, it's hard to get over how gullible the character must be to accept this fabrication, making it hard for the viewer to get invested in Chaplin's performance. If the guy is so blinded by Noelle's beauty, that he barely even notices Abby, you wonder why she's attracted to him in the first place. I suppose Chaplin and Garofalo do share some okay chemistry during their phone conversation scenes but that's about the only thing that's memorable about him. 

The best romantic comedies build their humor out of the interactions between the characters. "The Truth About Cats & Dogs," on the other hand, goes for increasingly broad slapstick to try and inject some humor into the proceedings. This is really evident in two scenes. When Abby and Noelle are getting lunch together, a random guy attempts to impress the blonde with a random act of fly snatching, a sequence that feels totally out-of-place and adds nothing to the film. Similarly, the scene where Noelle plans on revealing the truth to Brian escalates to a silly scene of him driving her to the radio station, the knob on his car radio getting yanked off as Noelle crawls around the vehicle. These moments stick out badly and feel like desperate attempts to generate some laughs. 

Like all nineties romantic comedies, "The Truth About Cats & Dogs" is visually indistinct. There's little about its use of color, camera movement, lighting, or framing that's memorable or interesting. It mostly just looks like a TV show. You see little of the trademarks that distinguished Michael Lehmann's earlier movies. The exaggerated set design or surreal dialogue of "Heathers" or "Hudson Hawk" are not present. Really, the only element of "The Truth About Cats & Dogs" that sticks out to be are its montage sequences, which feel distinctly nineties in a way I can't quite describe. A scene where Abby and Brian have phone sex has the kind of soft focus and slow dissolves that just define the decade of my youth for me.

One thing about "The Truth About Cats & Dogs" did surprise me though. While watching the opening credits, I did not expect to see Howard Shore's name pop up. You did not expect the guy best known for composing sweeping scores for "The Lord of the Rings" or intense music for the films of David Cronenberg to work on an ephemeral rom-com like this. I guess not every gig can be "The Silence of the Lambs." Shore provides a light jazz score that is not especially memorable, though occasionally gives the movie a fitting peppy energy. Shore's music is frequently subbed out for a series of pop songs from Adult Contemporary hitmakers like Sting, Blues Traveller, or Suzanne Vega. This was from the days when even mid-tier studio products had soundtracks filled with notable names. The needle drops are pretty intrusive, though I did like the random Ben Folds Five song that pops up. 

After "The Truth About Cats & Dogs" wrapped up, I found myself wondering something: What was the truth about cats and dogs supposed to be? Brian adopts a big slobbery dog early in the film, while Abby has a fluffy cat she cuddles in a few scenes. It's easy to compare Brian, so stunned by a pretty lady that it takes the whole movie for him to figure out the obvious truth, to the absent-minded goofiness of a friendly dog. Yet if we are meant to presume anything about Abby from her being a cat person, I didn't catch it. Lots of people have observed that men are more like dogs while women are more like cats but the film doesn't really offer any insight on that. The title, which is also the name of Abby's radio program, seems to have been chosen because it was catchy and not because it reflects anything about the film. Maybe that's a petty complaint but, if your title is professing to reveal some truth about our animal friends, the actual contents of the film should probably attempt to do that. 

"The Truth About Cats & Dogs" does mark an important turning point in Michael Lehmann's career: It was the first one of his movies to actually be a box office success. The film would gross 34 million in North America and a little more than that overseas. I can't find what the movie's budget was but I'm betting it was a lot less than that. The reviews were fairly positive too, though there was at least one notable detractor. Janeane Garfalo herself would dismiss the film years later, saying the original script had a lot more nuance and that the final product was a bland studio product. Which I would agree with. The film would successfully launch the career of screenwriter Wells, a former radio DJ herself who would go on to write similarly light-hearted comedies like "George of the Jungle" and "The Kid," and direct two movies of her own, before passing away unexpectedly in 2018. As for Lehmann, he'd get to make a few more movies, so I guess that's good. [Grade: C-]

Director Report Card: Michael Lehmann (1994)

4. Airheads

How do you come back from making one of the most notorious critical punching bags of the nineties? This was the question facing... Scott Alexander and Larry Karaszewski, after writing the widely loathed “Problem Child” films. The screenwriters found themselves emphasizing with a man widely considered the worst filmmaker of all time: Edward D. Wood Jr. They wrote a script about the man, that celebrated him, instead of mocking him. The duo found a kindred spirit in Michael Lehman, whose own career had been stained by making “Hudson Hawk.” The project would've been a fitting comeback vehicle for Lehman. The “Ed Wood” script ended up in the hands of Tim Burton, who loved it and desperately wanted to produce it... But only if he could direct it too. And, I guess, if you had to choose between the guy who made “Batman” directing your movie and the guy who made “Hudson Hawk,” you'd choose Burton too. 

Instead of “Ed Wood,” Lehmann chose a goofy comedy script from Rich Wilkes as his next project. “Airheads” follows Chazz, would-be rock star and lead singer of struggling metal band The Lone Rangers. After another failed attempt to get a record exec's attention, and getting dumped by his girlfriend, Chazz and his band mates – scheming bassist Rex and simpleton drummer Pip – get desperate. Armed with water pistols filled with hot sauce, the trio break into radio station KPPX. Things accidentally escalate into a hostage situation. Left on the air, the band tries to locate a playable copy of their demo, struggle with their newfound infamy, butt heads with the cops, reconnect with the women in their lives, and become rock folk heroes. 

There's an underappreciated little subgenre that I'm unusually fond of. I call them “dude movies.” These are motion pictures, always within the comedy genre, that follow goofy best friends on some sort of wacky adventure. There are usually two of them. They are almost always male. (Though a “dude movie” starring women would be a really neat twist.) Frequently, though not always, these dudes are made dudes by their surfer slang and love of heavy metal music. “Bill & Ted” and “Wayne's World” are the superstars of this small subgenre. “Airheads” fits comfortably into the dudes template, even if it follows three metal-obsessed screwballs who get into some shenanigans. A built-in fondness for exactly this kind of wackiness means I might be more susceptible to “Airheads'” questionable charms then some might be. 

While many dude movies just use the metalhead aesthetic for ambiance, spinning their stories off in off-beat directions, “Airheads” is explicitly concerned with the value of rock music. Like all true rock 'n' roll movies, it's really about the struggle to maintain the integrity of the music. Chazz and his band mates consider themselves “real” rock musicians, compared to the posers that fill the scene. Upon discovering that KPPX is going to be converted into a soft jazz station, everyone is outraged. When their infamy as criminals seemingly secures the Lone Rangers a contract, he's ultimately aghast. He wants to be famous for his music, not his reputation! The film repeatedly puts these clueless rock wannabes in conflict with feckless executives and square authority figures. This puts “Airheads” in a long line of movies and stories in which rock musicians struggle for authenticity in an industry built upon selling out.

The dudes genre is, in many ways, forever linked to the eighties idea of what a rock star is. “Airheads” is too. At one point, Chazz dismisses the music coming out of Seattle at the time, which is obviously a reference to the grunge genre that would completely displace metal's prominence in popular culture for most of the decade. Yet, watching “Airheads” tonight, I can't help but feel it's one of the most nineties movies I've ever seen. The central trio wear a lot of sleeveless flannel, headbands, Doc Martens, and acid-wash jeans. CDs and cassette tapes are reoccurring plot points. Rex works in an unnamed toy store that is pretty clearly a Toys-R-Us, back in the days when that chain was a series of dingy warehouses. The shelves are lined with then relevant but now retro toy lines, like “Crash Test Dummies” or the 90s version of “Stretch Armstrong.” The film begins with a stop-motion animation opening credits scene, which just hangs heavy with the atmosphere of my youth. And Beavis and Butthead have a cameo. Through no intentional moves, “Airheads” became an amusing time capsule of a specific time. 

Watching “Airheads” after seeing Michael Lehmann's first three features, you don't see too many of his trademarks. The stylized production design and heightened cinematography of “Heathers” and “Meet the Applegates” is nowhere to be seen here. Cinematographer John Schwartzman and production designer David Nichols do largely forgettable work. Yet there is a little taste of “Heathers” in “Airheads,” largely thanks to its frequently surreal dialogue. The metalheads toss around a number of bizarre insults, such as shouting “penis” in a weird way or referring to each other derisively as “femmes.” The script even mocks its own weird language, in a moment when the radio station owner attempts to replicate the style of speech. There's nothing here as iconic as “Fuck me gently with a chainsaw” but someone does threaten to stab a person with his dick.

Truthfully, what ends up making “Airheads” really work for me is, I think, its cast. Years before Brendan Fraser would be critically reevaluated as an incredibly charming matinee idol, and even before the peak of his goofy action hero stardom, he made wacky comedies like this. There's no doubt that “Airheads” makes good use of Fraser's himbo charms. From any practical perspective, Chazz is sort of a dick. He does disregard his girlfriend's feelings in favor of obsessing over his rock star dream, which definitely seems increasingly pathetic as the story goes on. Yet Fraser manages to make him more lovable than not. Chazz is definitely a doof but Fraser also gives him a vulnerable side, allowing us to warm up to him and even root for him eventually. 

“Airheads” is also notable as an off-beat starring role for Steve Buschemi. Buscemi has starred in a couple of comedies over the years but he's not usually playing a long-haired metalhead type. Yet he's good casting in the role of Rex. Buscemi, after all, has an edgy, slightly unhinged quality. When you pair that with long hair and punk fashion, it really makes Rex look like a greasy weirdo. (A fitting addition to any metal band.) The character also fits comfortably into the kind of comedic roles Buscemi usually plays: That of someone who grossly overestimates his own brilliance and frequently rushes into plans without thinking them through. It's a good use of the eccentric character actor. 

If “Airheads” is remembered for nothing else, it's for being an early role for Adam Sandler. This one was released a year before “Billy Madison” came out, taking Sandler from a popular stand-up and beloved “SNL” cast member to the biggest comedy star of the decade. And even this early in Sandler's cinematic career, his screen persona was fairly well established. Pip is utterly child-like in his personality. He talks in a stilted way, often makes bizarre leaps in logic, and is prone to mistakes. The explosive rage and inexplicable talent Sandler characters usually have is, in Pip, replaced with an mysterious popularity with the ladies. Women find Pip irresistible, which plays like another one of “Airheads'” absurd jokes. Whether you find Sandler's act charming or obnoxious is a matter of opinion but he does provide a nice counterbalance to the other characters in the film.

Sandler isn't the only adored “Saturday Night Live” cast member of the nineties to appear in “Airheads.” Chris Farley appears as one of the cops assigned to meet the Lone Rangers' ridiculous demands. Farley steals the few scenes he's in, as a nervous guy who is eager to please and prone to occasional outbursts of genius. “Airheads” actually has a surprisingly stacked supporting cast. Ernie Hudson is Farley's commanding officer, doing a good job of being a straight man to the movie's wackiness. A young David Arquette has a largely unnecessary appearance as an oddball guy in the station, who doesn't contribute anything to the story but is appreciated. Michael McKean appears as the duplicitous manager of the radio station, who is suitably whiny and square. Joe Mantegna is well utilized as the deejay, who is sympathetic to the band's scheme and gets off a couple of good one-liners.

Another way you can tell “Airheads” was made in the nineties is that it contains an extended parody of “Die Hard.” And it stars Michael Richards, back when he could've parlayed his status as Kramer into some sort of stand alone career. Richards plays an incredibly neurotic radio employee who unwittingly ends up hiding in the ventilation system of the radio station, communicating with the cops on the outside. Richards gets to enact some amusing slapstick in these sequences, hurting himself in increasingly unlikely ways as he stumbles through the vents above. He also has a line to the cops on the outside, who – in a funny gag – constantly misunderstands what he's saying. Honestly, I could imagine someone trying to expand this entire concept into its own movie. In “Airheads,” it's just one amusingly silly component of the story. 

It's hard to say a movie like “Airheads” is really about anything. This is a gleefully dumb comedy and not one to be thought about that deeply. However, a theme of sorts does emerge. At the beginning of the story, Chazz doesn't really respect his girlfriend. He prioritizes his own ambitions over her's, expecting her to do all the work while he pursues his wild dream. Similarly, a minor character in the film is a police captain who is going through a psychotically tense break-up with his wife. Ya know, maybe it's just the standards of nineties comedies aimed at teenage boys, but it definitely feels like men having issues with women is a topic rolling around in this movie's empty head. Notably, Chazz' girlfriend comes to forgive him largely because he drops his macho demeanor and not so much because he changes his behavior, so don't think the film is progressive in any way. Yet it's kind of interesting. 

And, of course, it's only fitting that “Airheads” has a pretty good soundtrack. It features some choice cuts from White Zombie, Motorhead, Dim Stars, and Primus. (Rob Zombie and Lemmy both have cameos in the movie, to boot.) While mocked throughout the film, the Lone Rangers' single actually isn't a bad vaguely hardcore style punk/metal number. Despite seemingly having a lot in its favor, “Airheads” was not successful upon release. It grossed far less than its 11 million dollar budget at the box office. Critically, it was reviled and even made a couple of Worst Of lists at the end of the year. That definitely seems like a bit of an overreaction to me. “Airheads” is goofy, kind of dumb, and light-weight as can be. Yet it's also frequently charming, has a surprisingly good cast, and made me laugh a decent number of times. This has earned the movie a small cult following, that has kept it being totally forgotten. When watched on a lazy afternoon, with no expectations, it can definitely scratch an inch for a silly comedy. [Grade: B-]

Director Report Card: Michael Lehmann (1991)

3. Hudson Hawk

“Hudson Hawk,” your reputation proceeds you. If you’re a movie nerd of a certain age, the name “Hudson Hawk” is practically short-hand for a movie so horrendously misguided that its only plausible fate was to become a massive box office bomb. How did a misfire like this come to be? The idea was conceived by Bruce Willis and his friend, music producer Robert Kraft. Bruce wanted to do a Bond style super-spy movie with the sense of humor of his “Moonlighting” character. After the success of “Die Hards” 1 and 2, Bruce convinced mega-producer Joel Silver to turn this in-joke into an actual motion picture. Eighties action scribe Steven E. de Souza turned Willis’ pitch into a fairly straight-forward heist film. Bruce wanted it to be crazier so Silver hired “Heathers” screenwriter Daniel Waters, who had just wrote “The Adventures of Ford Fairlaine” for the producer, to make the movie wackier. Waters seemed like a natural addition, since Michael Lehmann was already signed on to direct. (As Silver was supposedly a big fan of “Heathers.)

But “Hudson Hawk” was always Bruce’s movie. Rumors persist that he took over filming, rewriting the script daily, and constantly changing his mind about what tone the project should have. The budget ballooned and shooting went way over-schedule. By the time this “Hawk” nested in theaters, the film had already garnered the reputation of a fiasco. Critics barred their fangs, audiences stayed away, and it’s only by the grace-of-god that Willis’ career survived. In the decades since the movie became a synonym for excess and failure, some have tried to reclaim “Hudson Hawk” as a wrongfully maligned gem. Where do I stand on this particular debate? Am I pro- or anti-“Hawk?” As with everything concerning this frequently baffling film, the answer is not as clear cut as that.

Eddie Hawkins has earned a reputation as the Hudson Hawk, the greatest cat-burglar and safe-cracker the world has ever known. Recently paroled from prison, he wants to change all that and begin a normal life. Forces conspire to get him back to his old ways. His old partner, Tommy, convinces him to pull off a daring robbery of an auction house, with a Leonardo de Vinci relic as the prize. This soon entwines Eddie in a conspiracy between the C.I.A., the Vatican, and a pair of evil millionaires known as the Mayflowers. They are all seeking control of de Vinci’s thought-lost designs for an alchemy machine, which can turn lead to gold via a series of reflective crystals. Running around Rome and pursued by various forces, Eddie seeks to save the world, get the girl, and drink a cappuccino.

Part of why “Hudson Hawk” probably flopped so spectacularly is because it was sold as a typical Bruce Willis movie. The trailers focused on the punching, shooting, car crashes, explosions, stunts, and wise-cracks. Aside from an oddball fairy tale style prologue with the “Rocky and Bullwinkle” narrator, the movie more-or-less feels like a typical Bruce Willis movie in its first half-hour. Yes, the dialogue is a little punchier and the characters are a bit zanier. Hawk has a fixation on cappuccino and trades barbed dialogue with his buddy, Tommy. The two time their heist by singing songs at the same time, as Hawk seems to obsessively know the complete lyrics and length of every entry in the American Standards songbook. Yet all of this is well within Bruce's typical smart-ass action hero wheelhouse. The initial heist scene is breezy and entertaining. If you know nothing about the movie up to this point besides its reputation, you might wonder why it was so despised in 1991.

This is before an auctioneer explodes suddenly and in a totally cartoonish manner. That scene is quickly followed by a ridiculous sequence where Bruce is dragged behind an ambulance on a gurney, cracking jokes the entire time as he improbably swerves his way through traffic. From that point on, “Hudson Hawk” only gets sillier. By the last act, you have James Coburn doing exaggerated karate kicks while Willis contorts his body to avoid the strikes, wacky sound effects playing on the soundtrack. The situations and one-liners just get more ridiculous, until you have Bruce delivering one of the most hilariously clunky postmortem quips in action movie history. If you are unprepared for “Hudson Hawk's” abrupt shift into a live action cartoon, its wild tonal shifts can be utterly blindsiding, its increasingly ludicrous direction baffling. But if you know what you're getting into, it's definitely kind of fun.

The movie's progressively zanier atmosphere does reel itself in slightly from time-to-time. Mostly when it's focusing on the romantic subplot. Andie MacDowell appears as Anna, an agent of the Vatican's anti-espionage sector that has been sent to seduce Hawk and prevent him from stealing da Vinci's codex. Of course, she does too well a job of that and the pair fall in love. McDowell and Willis actually have a likable chemistry together. The scene in her apartment, where they start to get close and she comments on his tattoos and scars, has an easy-going and likable energy to it. These moments are totally at odds with the rest of the movie's over-the-top goofiness but, taken as respites from the slapstick, they entertain well enough.

The romantic-comedy scenes do not represent "Hudson Hawk's" only unexpected departure from its tone of "Looney Tunes" absurdity. This is, after all, a Joel Silver action movie. That means there's a shit ton of explosions and gratuitous violence. The last act features Willis goofing around with a rocket launcher and there's multiple car crashes throughout. However, the movie makes the weird decision to play a lot of its violence as not cartoony slapstick, but semi-realistic. A throat is slashed early on, blood gushing out. The main villains are graphically killed by exploding shrapnel. It comes off as more than a little mean-spirited. Another Willis flick that year, "The Last Boy Scout," was similarly graphic. So maybe this was just the inevitable climax of eighties action excess. Yet considering "Meet the Applegates" was also weirdly mean-spirited at times, I'm wondering if it's not a Michael Lehmann thing. 

Overall though, I found that “Hudson Hawk’s” atmosphere of tonally inconsistent ridiculousness mostly worked for me. When focused on its goofy characters bouncing off each other within increasingly off-beat scenarios, it’s entertaining enough. Things only truly become a problem when it asks us to actually care about the people and events happening around them. The plot, to prevent world domination, has ostensibly important consequences that are mostly treated seriously. Late in the film, a supporting character seems to die, an event which the story tries to attach some seriousness too. It turns out he’s fine, in probably the most bullshitty plot twist in the film, but that sole moment of gravity sticks out like a sore thumb. You can’t have 99% of your movie be a parody and then have 1% be totally sincere. That’s just not going to work. 

Then again, it’s not like making sense is much of a priority here. To read that Bruce was rewriting the film’s plot all through filming is not surprising, as “Hudson Hawk’s” storyline is often convoluted. The general gist of the story — to prevent a da Vinci invented magical relic from falling into the wrong hands — is simple enough and maintained throughout. Yet the film’s need to pile on more conspiracies frequently gets confusing. First, Hawk is being blackmailed by the mob into stealing again. Then the C.I.A. is pulling the strings. After that, the evil Mayflower corporation gets involved. Their plan — to make themselves more powerful by sabotaging the world gold supply by flooding the market with alchemy-created gold — also seems unnecessarily convoluted. The movie then feels the need to throw in a plot from the Vatican as well. It’s all a little too much and it’s unsurprising that the exact details get a little lost with so much going on.

As much of a mess as “Hudson Hawk” undoubtedly is, the film is still an entertaining watch throughout. Daniel Waters’ script makes sure that not a minute passes without something wacky or unexpected happening. The C.I.A. agents pursuing Hawk are all named after candy bars for vaguely explained reasons. The one named Butterfinger, played by a fittingly gronk-ish Andrew Bryniarski, is a total simpleton that is nearly indestructible. Another one, named Kit Kat, is a mime for no reason at all that often wears outlandish outfits. A particularly bizarre scene involves the agents shooting people with paralyzing needles, that causes them to babble incoherently. The mob bosses are named the Mario brothers, one of several references to Nintendo. (A console a game adaption of "Hudson Hawk" appeared on.) There's a testicle-fixated dog, that meets a ghoulish fate. A little girl's stuffed elephant is a plot point in one sequence. The Vatican agents communicate via glowing statues of Christ. And every scene is filled with usually funny one-liners, many of which display the mastery for memorable dialogue Waters showed in "Heathers." "Hudson Hawk" uses every opportunity it can to grow more surreal. As nuts as the movie is, this is actually toned down from the initial cut which also featured a subplot about Hawk seeking revenge for his murdered pet monkey.

I think a big reason why so many critics had their knives out for "Hudson Hawk" is because it was perceived as a hideous vanity project for Bruce Willis. And, ya know, that's not totally unfair. It's obvious that Willis and Kraft dreamed up a whole elaborate mythology around the Hudson Hawk character, which this movie only gives us a peek at. Whole scenes are built around Willis singing, around the same time he was pursuing a rather misguided musical side career. And, of course, Eddie Hawkins is depicted as preternaturally cool, always ready with a funny quip, fighting off tough guys, and getting into incredible adventures. He gets the girl and does things like assemble a collection of magical crystals with ease or outrun a fireball in da Vinci's flying machine. The entire advertising campaign was built around Bruce posing in a fedora. While "Hudson Hawk" unquestionably is an ode to Willis' ego, the title character is as much Daffy Duck as he is Bugs Bunny. He is clowned on as often as he clowns on others. The movie probably would be stronger overall if Hawkins was always the butt of the joke. But at least Bruce knew not to write himself totally as a wish fulfillment figure. 

While Willis is obviously the star of the show, a game supporting cast is assembled here. Danny Aiello has a good rapport with Willis, giving their scenes a frequently breezy energy. James Coburn's cocksure smile and smart-ass demeanor makes him a likable villain. Lorraine Toussaint is the sole intimidating member of the candy bar club, as Almond Joy. The movie's surreal atmosphere is increased by the presence of human memes like Frank Stallone and David Caruso, though there's no way the filmmakers knew that at the time. Camping it up above all the movie's other camp elements are Richard E. Grant and Sandra Bernhard as the kinky, preening, utterly villainous Mayflowers. Grant and Bernhard absolutely tear the rafters off with grotesquely over-the-top performances, cackling and screeching during every second of screen time they have. While I can easily see people being off-put by such theatrically performances, Grant and Bernhard are having such a gleeful time. It's hard not to share in their utterly unhinged joy.

The fallout of "Hudson Hawk" was immediate. Many suspect Willis took the movie's savaging personally. He would never attempt writing a movie again and he rarely strayed from his action hero persona in the years afterwards. Though Lehmann and Waters would continue to get work, they never quite recovered from having a bomb as infamous as "Hudson Hawk" on their resumes. The movie flopping was a sign that the kind of campy action cinema excess Silver had popularized in the eighties needed to be recalibrated for the nineties. Yet, despite its notoriety, "Hudson Hawk" is too defiantly unique to be hated. I think it's definitely more of a fiasco than a secret success. I totally understand why many people despise the movie, then and now. But I get why it gathered a cult following eventually too. As all over-the-place as "Hudson Hawk" may be, there also aren't any other would-be blockbusters like it. (And, for what it's worth, the movie performed better overseas than domestically.) [Grade: B-]

Director Report Card: Michael Lehmann (1990)

2. Meet the Applegates

"Heathers" didn't make any money but someone at New World Pictures must've liked the cut of Michael Lehmann's jib. I'm betting that someone was Denise Di Novi, the quirky producer who was also instrumental in getting Lehmann's feature debut made. Di Novi would also produce Lehmann's follow-up, an even stranger movie called "Meet the Applegates." Of course, New World was in the depths of bankruptcy and restructuring at the time. Lehmann's weirdo comedy would sit on a shelf for two years and not see theater screens until 1991. And even then just barely, as the film only made a little less than 500,000 dollars against its 5 million dollar budget. Despite its relative obscurity, "Meet the Applegates" has gone on to gather a small cult following. 

An American power company is currently cutting down large swathes of the Amazon rainforest, This disrupts a species of giant, highly intelligent, shapeshifting praying mantises called the Brazilian Cocorada. After discovering an English language text book, a family of four disguises themselves as humans and move to the small town in Ohio where the power company is based. Calling themselves the Applegates, they plan to sabotage the nuclear power plant and destroy the town. They present themselves as an ideal American family: Father Dick, mother Jane, teenage daughter Sally, and younger son Johnny. (Plus a dog named Spot.) Yet the Applegates soon find themselves distracted by the excesses of modern American society, forgetting their mission. This is bad, as the Cocorada Queen is on her way with an army of pissed-off bug people. 

It's honestly astonishing that "Meet the Applegates" managed to get made at all. If theater-goers found the premise of "a comedy about teenage suicide" alienating, I can't imagine anyone thought they would flock to a film with a set-up this weird. And this film was two million dollars more expensive than "Heathers" too! Di Novi must've been doing it for the art, as "Meet the Applegates" makes no concession to audience's taste. It is a bizarre comedy that revels in its own weirdness. The main characters have the goal of killing humanity. They behave badly, as does almost everyone around them. The film frequently pauses for extended sequences of grotesque body horror, as the Applegates' human forms shift into their buggy natural states. There's a key scene where a teenage girl gives birth to a squirming pupa, which then burst spectacularly, This is a movie that was only ever going to appeal to a limited breed of cult movie freaks. Which makes me thankful it exists at all.

"Meet the Applegates'" aggressive weirdness is obviously in service of cultural satire. The Applegates pattern themselves after every statistic they can find about American life, making themselves as "average" as possible. This leads to them resembling a 1950s sitcom version of a suburban family. The dad has an office job, mom cooks and clean, they have a white picket fence and a green lawn. This disguises the truth that they are hideous killer bugs. The film goes even further after that, as the Applegates quickly befall to every vice of modern life. Dick begins to have an affair with his secretary. Sally becomes addicted to spending, signing up for multiple credit cards and maxing all of them out. She eventually turns to booze and crime to cope. Johnny quickly starts selling and using drugs while Sally is immediately trying teenage sex and getting impregnated. The joke is obvious: That the "average" American family is, despite idyllic appearances, completely fucked-up. That something innate in our culture breeds and encourages this seediness.

This is not too dissimilar to "Heathers'" point, that the restrictive structures of American society inevitable leads to dysfunction and self-destruction. Yet, where "Heathers'" satire was focused and razor-sharp, "Meet the Applegates'" social commentary is a lot fuzzier. The people around the Applegates are presented as dunderheaded buffoons. The high school jock is a date-rapist, the town minister is a corpulent overeater, and their immediate neighbor is a bozo. Yet you can't help but notice that the Applegates are way more grotesque than anyone around them. When the outsiders are more depraved than the Americans, you're just making the outsiders look bad. Things get more muddled as the movie goes on, suggesting that the Applegates and the people in the town are growing fond of each other. Moreover, the evil energy corporation that should be the story's true antagonist is never developed much, leaving any clear point about the evils of capitalism hard to decipher. 

Muddled satire could, perhaps, be forgiven if "Meet the Applegates" was as funny as "Heathers." Sad to say, it's not. In fact, there aren't very many laughs here at all. There's a number of belabored gags that simply aren't very amusing. Such as the exterminator next door testing out a sonic frequency bug deterrent, which secretly torments the Applegates. There's a running gag about the mantises subsisting on a diet of trash and sugar, a potentially amusing bit of silliness that the film just dourly accepts as a matter-of-fact. "Meet the Applegates" is Lehmann's sole screenwriting credit, as he co-wrote the script with Redbeard Simmons, his "Beaver Gets a Boner" scribe. The two seem to find the act of presenting grotesqueness humorous enough, as the film largely has weird or gross shit happen without doing much of anything to make it funny. 

The film is at its most amusing when there's some sort of straight man to play off all the crazy shit happening. Such as when Greg, the exterminator neighbor, discovers a huge dead bug that used to be Spot the dog. His bemused reaction to something so unusual made me chuckle a few times. So did the sequence were the Applegates' averageness makes them the winner of a contest. The lottery runners arrive with the prize, just as the family is at their lowest moment, leading to a series of horrified reactions from the squares. Another such scene has a straight-laced border agent negotiating with the Cocorada Queen, who has taken the human form of a macho Dabney Coleman. I feel like the movie should've used the similarities between the already weird Applegates and normal suburban foibles for more laughs. There's a moment where an antenna-sporting Dick tries to initiate some insectoid sexy time with Jane and she is disinterested. It's clever and funny. The movie needed more stuff like that. 

Perhaps this is what happens when you try to write a script like "Heathers" but don't have someone like Daniel Waters behind the typewriter. Like "Heathers," "Meet the Applegates" touches upon a lot of controversial topics. Sally is unambiguously raped by the high school football star she thinks is cute, an ugly scene. The idea that the star athlete doesn't care about consent certainly deserves to be made but the inclusion here is mostly just uncomfortable. This is far from the only content that people would probably object to in 2022. After getting pregnant, Sally attends a support group for wayward girls... Where she begins a romance with a butch lesbian. This is presented as another way in which the Applegates have fallen from the American ideals they strive for. After Dick is caught screwing his secretary, they both get fired... And then the woman tries to blackmail him, the film depicting her as the villain in this situation. Most prominently, there's the matter of the mantis queen presenting as a mustachioed man, despite telling everyone she's female. I don't think the movie was intentionally making fun of trans people but the scenes of Dabney Coleman in drag sure haven't aged well. 

So "Meet the Applegates'" satire is uncertain, its laughs are few and far between, and some of its gags would get the cast and crew canceled in 2022. What does the movie have going for it? Those giant praying mantises sure are charming. Veteran eighties monster maker Kevin Yagher handled the make-up and creature effects. Yagher's creature designs don't exaggerate the features of a typical praying mantis much. The goofy pupils of the insect are maintained, as are their distinctive antenna and mandibles. The puppets' pinchers and bodies flop around as they move, in a way that can't help but be amusing. Honestly, the scene just devoted to the mantises being adorable goofballs are my favorite parts of the movie. When the Applegates go on a road trip and sit around a campfire in their natural state, chattering in their clicking language, I loved that. Or how the confrontation at the end with the other Cocorada involves spitting copious amounts of slimy bug juice. Showing the absurd contrast between these oversized human notions and traditionally insectoid behavior is a lot funnier than most of what the movie offers.

“Meet the Applegates” notably doesn't look as good as “Heathers” either. Mitch Dubin, a camera operator on that film, takes over as cinematographer and he's clearly not as talented as Francis Kenny was. There's one or two shots similar to the church scenes in “Heathers” but nothing overall as distinctive as that movie. “Applegates” does have the same production design as “Heathers,” Jon Hurtman. And that's very obvious. This film has the same exaggerated, slightly surreal style to its sets. The colors are bright. The angles are overdone. Everything is just a little off. This is a good fit for a story like this one. It's certainly a lot easier to handle the reality of giant bugs disguised as people if the costumes and sets around them are little larger than life already.

While there's a lot of things about “Meet the Applegates” that just aren't on-target, its cast isn't one of them. Ed Begley Jr. stars as Dick, with Stockard Channing as Jane. Both seem to be on the movie's bizarre wavelength. There's frequently something a little weird about Begley's energy as a performer. He's frequently had this style of putting on a fake smile and sounding slightly insincere, which makes him an ideal pick for the role of a giant praying mantis disguised as an average American dad. And Begley is always a fearless comedic performer. Channing, meanwhile, generates some laughs with her extremely dry approach to the material. This is most apparent when she turns to crime to support her spending habit. Cami Cooper and Bobby Jacoby – also seen in “Shocker” and “Tremors,” respectively – are both pretty good as Sally and Johnny.

Yet the supporting cast really steals the show more often than not. Dabney Coleman gives easily the funniest performance in the film. Coleman maintains the composure of a hard-ass military man, even when subjected to indignities like being in drag or having a suggestive banana in his pants. Also returning from “Heathers” is Glenn Shadix, who plays the nosy neighbor. Shadix's perpetually surreal delivery is also suited to a story as odd this one, that sort of magnified sense of authority bouncing off the story's absurdity's well enough. Shadix is even given a few posturing speeches, similar to the preacher role he played in Lehmann's previous film. 

“Meet the Applegates” as barely released in cinemas but did a little better on video and cable. I recall, years ago, seeing an advertisement for a Sci-Fi Channel screening of it. The strange premise always stuck with me and I've been curious about the movie for years. That curiosity only increased after learning the guy who made “Heathers” directed it. Truthfully, I want to like “Meet the Applegates” much more than I actually do. I'm glad a movie this fucking weird exist. I'm glad as much time, effort, and money was expended on bringing a story about giant praying mantises pretending to be human to life. In the abstract, it's perfect for my off-kilter sense of humor. In execution, it leaves a lot to be desired. Still, if this ever gets released on a fancy Blu-Ray, I would probably pick it up. (It's never been released on DVD and isn't legally streaming anywhere.) “Meet the Applegates” might not be all that successful yet I can't help but find it a little irresistible. [Grade: B-]