Revisiting favorite old films from your childhood can go
one of two ways. In most cases you can be fairly certain that it’s not nearly
as good, interesting, clever, or funny as you remember. But you can be sure
that you’ll either be supremely disappointed to discover there’s little
redemption to be found within its frames or that there’s actually a lot more to
discover than your innocent and immature brain was capable of comprehending at
the time.
Better Off Dead…
is one of two bizarre comedies (along with One
Crazy Summer) from the mid-80s written and directed by Savage Steve Holland
and starring John Cusack. What was Holland thinking? Can you imagine a film
being made today whose main character is a depressive teen who tries to kill
himself several times over the course of the film’s 90 minutes – and oh yeah,
it’s a comedy?
Lane Meyer (Cusack) is a bit obsessed with his girlfriend
Beth (Amanda Wyss), whose picture is plastered all over every surface of his
bedroom. Unfortunately, being high school students, she is shallow while he is
a bit callow. She thinks it’s time she starts seeing someone who is more
popular, better looking and a better skier. She could be Catherine Zeta-Jones
in High Fidelity telling Cusack that
the man she left him for was sunnier, more confident and less work. Lane thinks
the end of their epic six month relationship is the end of the world and after
getting the bad news he strings a rope around his neck in the garage and then
second guesses the efficacy of this drastic decision. Then his oblivious mother
(Kim Darby) opens the door, bumping him off the edge, dangling and strangling
while she continues vacuuming unawares. Lane’s experiences through most of the
movie are a variation on that mishap.
There is some hope offered by Monique (Diane Franklin), a
French foreign exchange student living across the street with the irrepressibly
nauseating Smith family – Ricky (Dan Schneider, best known for his role on the
TV series “Head of the Class”), the overweight and nerdy near-mute, and his loud
and obnoxious mother. She and Lane become friends after he sharing the secret
that she can actually speak perfect English despite her ruse in front of the
Smiths. She is also conveniently a whiz at fixing cars, helping Lane to get his
Camaro (the one that his despondent father would like to see uncovered and
removed from the front lawn) on the road again, boosting his confidence just
enough that he might be able to beat Beth’s new boyfriend and death-defying ski
race and win her back.
If you can’t tell where Lane should really be focusing
his romantic attention, and where it’s likely to end up before the closing
credits, then there’s little hope for you. Monique is winning and adorable and
the scenes with the Smiths are some of the funniest in the film, but Holland’s
screenplay offers little in the way of character development for her. Franklin
has nothing to do but stand there looking cute and speak with a put-on French
accent until we accept by virtue of convention that she and Lane will wind up
together.
But do story details like this really matter in a movie
that was obviously designed with surrealism and some black comedy in mind? It’s
those elements that have likely led to the film’s enduring reputation as a cult
classic. Is there anyone who grew up in the 80s who doesn’t occasionally repeat
the dreaded phrase, “I want my two dollars,” echoing the relentless paperboy who
breaks the Meyers’ garage door windows and harasses Lane for payment of a debt
that actually belongs to his parents? Black humor is peppered throughout the
film and sets it apart from most other throwaway entries in the teen romance
genre.
One of the pleasures of revisiting a beloved film from
childhood is the material that makes sense to your more mature and
knowledgeable mind. I’m talking about scenes and jokes that give you that “A-ha!”
moment when you see why it was funny to an older sibling, but not to you, 25
years ago, as when Lane remembers being under a blanket in the back his station
wagon with Beth and he says, “Uh oh! That thing I put on. It broke. Don’t
worry, I’ll get you a new one.” Then his mind returns to the task at hand and
instead of solving a math problem on the classroom blackboard he’s drawn a
picture of a well-rounded Beth with the word baby and an arrow pointing to her
stomach. Or the way Lane’s father (David Ogden Stiers) uses a book on how to
relate to teens to pathetically attempt to use the slang of youth. Or how about
Lane’s precocious younger brother ordering a book called “How to Pick Up Trashy
Women” and then later he’s the VIP of his own bedroom with several
tawdry-looking women by his side.
The individual elements don’t quite fit together logically.
There’s not quite enough glue to hold the seams in place or to place the film
firmly in the annals of cult classic status. Somehow it works, perhaps as little
more than a nostalgia piece. Nevertheless, it was worth one final viewing, but I’m
unlikely to ever return to it in the future.
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