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Very few things in life are more subjective than humor. The types of movies that people like can either garner common interest amongst friends or cause your tightest pals to clown you for days; comedy, specifically, is the ultimate divider. It’s impossible not to ridicule that one friend who still thinks Frasier is funny, or the guy who can’t get enough of Gerard Butler’s rom-coms. Yes, such people do exist.
Not that we strictly adhere to the recommendations of esteemed, film historians or uptight critics, either. In fact, most of our preferred funny movies are flicks that received critical beatdowns upon their initial theatrical releases. For your approval, we submit 1996’s vilest comedy, Kingpin, directed by Peter and Bobby Farrelly (Dumb And Dumber, There’s Something About Mary). Amidst a flurry of negative reviews, the foul-mouthed, R-rated flick—starring Woody Harrelson, Randy Quaid, and Bill Murray as bowling competitors—performed modestly at the box office, only earning $25 million total.
Like that beautiful dame Helen Mirren, though, Kingpin has aged quite well, at least for our comedic predilections. And it's not alone. Because now's as good of a time as any to give other movies of its decade their long-deserved, proper due, we've compiled a list of 25 underrated ’90s comedies. Do your leanings match ours?
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Phat Beach (1996)
Director: Doug Ellin
Stars: Jermaine "Huggy" Hopkins, Brian Hooks, Claudia Kaleem, Candice Merideth
As the creator of HBO's Entourage, Doug Ellin has contributed something to popular culture that'll most likely remain in the public subconscious for years, perhaps even decades, to come; if reruns of Boy Meets World still air on a daily basis to this day, old episodes following Vincent Chase's rise to Hollywood glory will most definitely pop up in syndication. But, in our mind, Ellin demands credit for more than Entourage—could we ever forget about the directorial masterwork that is Phat Beach? No way in Hell.
If you're lucky enough, you might stumble across Phat Beach late one night on some admirable cable network; whenever that times comes, do yourself a favor and watch. Jermaine "Huggy" Hopkins (the black Jonah Hill of his day) holds it down as a fast food cook who, against his parents' wishes, heads to a Southern California beach to pick up chicks alongside his wise-cracking boy (Brian Hicks, the original Mike Epps).
A far cry from beach movies of the '60s (i.e., those perky Frankie Avalon/Annette Funicello collaborations), Ellin's sloppily directed flick is awful, yes, but that doesn't mean it's not endlessly watchable. Whether it's through the visibly forced humor or co-star Claudia Kaleem's phenomenal bikini body, Phat Beach more than earns its hate-yourself-for-loving-it stripes.
Nothing But Trouble (1991)
Director: Dan Akroyd
Stars: Chevy Chase, Demi Moore, Dan Aykroyd, John Candy
Critics loathed it, and rap fans only recognize it for its pivotal role in Tupac Shakur's musical career (Digital Underground's "Same Old Song," which featured 2Pac's debut verse, was on its soundtrack). However, as far as we're concerned, Dan Aykroyd's batshit Nothing But Trouble is a strangely magnetic clusterfuck of a high-concept comedy.
A smitten moneyman (Chevy Chase) invites his crush (Demi Moore) on a trip to Atlantic City, but an ignored stop sign along the New Jersey Turnpike leads to their arrest; instead of a police headquarters, though, they're taken to a peculiar village known as Valkevania, where an odd-looking Justice of the Peace (Aykroyd in shitty-looking makeup) tortures and kills traffic violators.
The plot is a steaming pile of absurdities, but there's a fantastically bizarre element to Nothing But Trouble that works in its favor. You've got the late, great John Candy playing a mute fat woman, Aykroyd doubling up as disgusting pig-like twins that are obsessed with breakfast cereal, and unnecessary cameos from Shock G and Pac. What does it all mean? Not a damn thing. Is it an enjoyable fail? Indeed.
Def Jam's How to be a Player (1997)
Director: Lionel C. Martin
Stars: Bill Bellamy, Natalie Desselle, Bernie Mac, Lark Voorhies, Mari Morrow, Pierre Edwards, Jermaine "Huggy" Hopkins, Anthony Johnson
Confession: The main reason we frequently revisit Def Jam's How to be a Player is a purely hormonal one. Any straight man who's ever seen Bill Bellamy's long-forgotten leading man debut (more known for its hip-hop all-star soundtrack than its cinematic merits) knows what we're talking about-there's more sexy tail in view throughout the 90-minute-long How to be a Player than on a month's worth of HBO programming.
As for the movie itself, How to be a Player is funny enough to warrant a fair salute. Bellamy plays the central womanizer with bearable sleaziness, and his knuckleheaded accomplices (Pierre Edwards, Jermaine "Huggy" Hopkins, and Anthony Johnson) routinely chime in with successful one-liners.
But let's not lose sight of the flick's sole reason for making this list: its army of gorgeous beauty queens, all of whom are asked to do little more than steam things up. No, we're not proud of ourselves right now.
Encino Man (1992)
Director: Les Mayfield
Stars: Sean Astin, Brendan Fraser, Pauly Shore, Megan Ward, Robin Tulley, Michael DeLuise
OK, so we're not at all proud about a few of this list's inclusions, particularly this meeting of those venerable thespians Brendan Fraser and Pauly Shore. But, fuck it, we're willing to bet that you're just as apt to watch Encino Man on cable as we are—we're just brave, and foolish, enough to admit it.
The objective of this countdown isn't to solely focus upon a movie's artistic clout, or unheralded brilliance; in some cases, we're here to commend flicks that make us laugh despite popular consensus, and there's hardly a better example than Sean Astin's pre-Rudy shot at post-Goonies stardom.
Encino Man didn't catapult the future Samwise Gamgee to A-list status, but it did set a new template for guilty pleasure entertainment. What's not to love about a movie in which Fraser plays a defrosted caveman who hangs out with two social outcasts (Astin and Shore) and subsequently dominates their high school's popularity contest? Sure, there's a lot to hate about it, especially how Shore's never-funny "weasel" routine gets overused to the point of filmmaker-issued sadism. But, shamefully, Encino Man's mind-tainting idiocy gets us every time. And surely, we're not the only ones who feel this way. Man up, closeted Linkavitch Chomofksy fans.
Don't Tell Mom the Babysitter's Dead (1991)
Director: Stephen Herek
Stars: Christina Applegate, Joanna Cassidy, Josh Charles, Keith Coogan, David Duchovny, Danielle Harris, John Getz
One of the industry's funniest actresses, Christina Applegate deserves far more recognition than she's ever received. For example, she would've killed in a movie like Bad Teacher; she's much better suited to play a potty-mouthed, disrespectful, and wildly sexy grammar school teacher, but, alas, the role went to the bigger-named Cameron Diaz. The former Kelly Bundy is overdue for her A-list breakthrough.
Outside of Married... With Children, Applegate's early talents were on display in Don't Tell Mom the Babysitter's Dead, a post-Home Alone exercise in "parent-less kids gone wild" comedy. She plays the oldest (at 17 years of age) of five siblings who's forced to get a job (after lying about her age) after their elderly, live-in caretaker dies while the kids' single mother goes out of town for the summer.
Working with a script that's uneven, Applegate flexes her charms as the nuanced straight-woman to her co-stars' varying degrees of eccentricity. The gags in Don't Tell Mom the Babysitter's Dead miss almost as often as they connect, but, even at its most banal, this preposterous romp scores as a teenage girl's fantasy vehicle; for us, it simultaneously delivers Applegate-specific eye candy and plenty of harmless laughs. It's a gender neutral success.
Big Daddy (1999)
Director: Dennis Dugan
Stars: Adam Sandler, Joey Lauren Adams, Cole and Dylan Sprouse, Jon Stewart, Leslie Mann
These days, Adam Sandler seems content with moronically lowbrow comedies that, despite his fans' unwavering box office support, insult those who once appreciated the guy's far cleverer movies. Cinematic crud such as Grown Ups and Just Go With It show a $100 million dollar man simply going through the motions, yet, over a decade ago, Sandler pushed his shtick to interesting new places in Big Daddy, easily the actor-producer's most sentimental film.
We're talking about Sandler here, so Big Daddy is far from Spielbergian in its depiction of adolescent turmoil, but it's still infinitely more mature than the majority of Sandler's output. He plays an underachiever, living off of a $200,000 cash settlement he received after a car accident, who learns about responsibilities and, cringe, love when he's saddled with a precocious orphan. The typical sight gags are present, like a pissing session on the side of a fancy restaurant and the tripping up of roller-bladers with sticks in a public park.
But amidst the sophomoric tomfoolery (running jokes about Hooters, jokes about an older man's nutsack), Sandler finds an effective balance with believably tender surrogate-father-and-son moments; the tonal shifts aren't always seamless, yet it's tough to chastise the guy who more commonly makes brain-sullying garbage like Little Nicky for stretching his material into sweeter territory.
It's also worth mentioning that Big Daddy features he only funny Rob Schneider performance in any of his generous and more talented buddy Sandler's (he's the Memphis Bleek to the Sandman's Jay-Z) movies. That alone is a small miracle worth applauding.
Class Act (1992)
Director: Randall Miller
Stars: Christopher Reid, Christopher Martin, Karyn Parsons, Alysia Rogers
Understandably, film experts are quick to write off rapper-led movies as worthless and amateurish; it's not like cinematic hallmarks such as Killa Season and MP Da Last Don ever won any critics awards. But, every now and then, a hip-hop flick comes along that bucks the trend, and in 1992, Kid 'N' Play's role-reversal comedy Class Act did just that, despite what mainstream critics wrote about it at the time.
Christopher "Kid" Reid plays Duncan Pinderhughes, a nerdy genius who needs to pass gym in order to graduate; Christopher "Play" Martin, meanwhile, is Blade Brown, a delinquent who's bound for jail if he doesn't graduate. A transcript mix-up leads to Duncan living Blade's life, and vice versa. Duncan becomes a thug who bags the hood-rat with a heart of gold (and the derriere of a Stairmaster model), and Blade poses as a bookworm to impress a sexy straight-A student (The Fresh Prince of Bel-Air's Karyn Parsons).
Class Act hasn't inspired any critics to revisit it and grant Kid 'N' Play's funniest picture its time-weathered, proper due, so allow us to do so. When it comes to the rap duo's filmography, House Party receives all of the love, but, at least in our minds, Class Act holds up just as well, if not better. Certainly more so than any of Kid 'N' Play's music; seriously, we dare you to name one of their songs without consulting Wikipedia.
Renaissance Man (1994)
Director: Penny Marshall
Stars: Danny DeVito, Gregory Hines, Mark Wahlberg, Stacey Dash, Kadeem Hardison, Lillo Brancato, Richard T. Jones, Khalil Kain, Cliff Robertson
Renaissance Man so obviously wants to exist in the same realm of appreciation as films like Dead Poets Society; in that regard, director Penny Marshall's inspirational comedy is a wee bit overzealous. Too often, it veers into complete schmaltz, piling on the "underachieving teacher enlightens a classroom full of younger misfits" archetypes as it blatantly tugs at viewers' heartstrings.
When it's not smothering on the cheese, though, Renaissance Man is a little joy of a movie, featuring Danny DeVito in one of his more endearing performances and an ensemble of faces both old (Kadeem Hardison), sexy as hell (Stacey Dash), and soon-to-be-huge (Mark Wahlberg).
After meeting with an unemployment office agent, DeVito's character, a jobless and recently divorced schlub, gets sent to a local Army base to become a civilian instructor. His students hail from the base's lowest tier of intellectuals; using the works of William Shakespeare as his primary teaching devices, DeVito earns their trust, setting the gang of lost causes and former troublemakers on smarter paths.
Like we said, Renaissance Man's sentiments are generic, so it's beneficial that DeVito nails several one-liners, the classmates' banter is equal parts snarky and quotable, and Stacey Dash looks the way she does.
Airheads (1994)
Director: Michael Lehmann
Stars: Brendan Fraser, Adam Sandler, Steve Buscemi, Joe Mantegna, Michael McKean, Judd Nelson, Ernie Hudson, Chris Farley, David Arquette, Michael Richards
A heavy metal spin on Dog Day Afternoon, Airheads is one of those comedies that, whenever it airs on cable TV, you're powerless against; the remote control gets set down on the nearest table, your brain switches to autopilot mode, and the stupidity both delights and amuses.
It doesn't require an Ivy League psychologist to discern why exactly, either. Made way back when Brendan Fraser was actually funny, and Adam Sandler was still a Saturday Night Live standout on the verge of bigger things, Airheads lampoons hardcore rock-n-roll types without callously disrespecting them; if anything, director Michael Lehmann and his cast find long-haired rabble-rousers in ripped jeans to be endearing.
Fraser, Sandler, and an excellently manic Steve Buscemi play three dim-witted rockers who break into the local metal radio station, use authentic-looking water pistols to take the on- and off-air staffers hostage, and attract crowds of listeners and swarms of coppers as they try to play their demo on the airwaves. The three leads have a loose, vibrant chemistry, and the flick's colorful lineup of supporting players (namely Joe Mantegna as the station's sarcastic DJ) ensure that no bit falls shamefully flat. And it's hard not to appreciate a movie that gains considerable mileage out of nude Bea Arthur photos. Golden Girls was never the same again.
PCU (1994)
Director: Hart Bochner
Stars: Jeremy Piven, David Spade, Megan Ward, Chris Young, Jon Favreau
As much as we loved Jeremy Piven's scene-stealing rants on Entourage, the unavoidable truth is that he's never been able to carve out a big-time film career. Aside from his memorable co-starring roles in flicks like Old School and Very Bad Things, Piven has not one hit film to his leading man credit. The less said about 2009's The Goods: Live Hard, Sell Hard, the better.
It's a shame, too, because, back in 1994, he proved that he's capable of being a movie's primary source of funny. PCU, a college-set romp about an ostracized fraternity made up of over-aged slackers who live to piss off every student group on campus, prefaced Ari Gold, with Piven's character's smooth-talking ways and attention-hoarding presence. The rest of the cast is on-point, too, especially Jon Favreau as a burly hippie and David Spade as a young Republican prick.
PCU isn't exactly the Animal House of the '90s, but with its steady undercurrent of political incorrectness, Piven's only top-lining project worth remembering endures as a cult favorite. To initiate a fellow advocate, hit them with "Can you blow me where the Pampers is?" and gauge their reaction.
Orgazmo (1997)
Director: Trey Parker
Stars: Trey Parker, Dian Bachar, Robyn Lynne Raab, Michael Dean Jacobs, Matt Stone, Ron Jeremy, Chasey Lain, Juli Ashton
In 1997, Trey Parker and Matt Stone unveiled their new Comedy Central animated series, South Park, and the rest, as they say, is history. One year prior, though, Parker had already proven his gifts for provocative hilarity with the independent flick Orgazmo, in which he starred, as well as wrote and directed. Today, Parker's filthy and sex-packed spoof on the porn industry lingers as an early testament to the South Park mastermind's longstanding brilliance.
Parker gives a solid performance as Joe Young, a God-fearing Mormon (a story element that laid the foundation for Parker and Stone's Tony-Award-winning Broadway musical The Book Of Mormon) who reluctantly portrays an adult film superhero, named Captain Orgazmo, in order to pay for a wedding. For authenticity's sake, actual porn stars such as Ron Jeremy and Chasey Lain co-star, and Stone shows up for a brief, yet damn funny, cameo as a mullet-sporting loon who loves unicorns a bit too much.
Orgazmo foregoes the South Park guys' usual brand of social commentary, focusing solely on fish-out-of-water yucks, and the end result is the funniest movie ever made about the porn world. Unless you think of Boogie Nights as a comedy.
Men at Work (1990)
Director: Emilio Estevez
Stars: Charlie Sheen, Emilio Estevez, Keith David, Leslie Hope, Dean Cameron, John Getz
It'd be a fun experiment to re-watch Men At Work now, in the wake of Charlie Sheen's media takeover, a time when Mr. Tiger Blood has become more of a public nuisance than a renegade funnyman. Will we be able to laugh it up as Sheen and his real-life brother Emilio Estevez steal ideas from Weekend At Bernie's? Seems like a safe bet.
Written and directed by Estevez, Men At Work is a shamelessly goofy diversion, with Sheen and his filmmaking sibling hamming it up as a couple of garbagemen who discover a corpse and have to hide it from the fuzz. A couple of practical jokesters, their characters spend most of the film's running time performing immature stunts, most notably a running gag where they continually outwit a pair of useless police officers and leave them in sexually suggestive, and barely clothed, positions.
Equally as amusing is co-star Keith David, the always pleasing character actor showing off the same gift for camp that he did two years earlier in John Carpenter's similarly cult-beloved dark sci-fi comedy They Live!. With side performances like his, it should be easy to check Men At Work out and not feel the urge to stick Charlie Sheen's mug shot on a punching bag.
Kingpin (1996)
Director: Bobby and Peter Farrelly
Stars: Woody Harrelson, Randy Quaid, Bill Murray, Vanessa Angel
The Farrelly Brothers have never been known for their morality, but with the crude bowling flick Kingpin, the comedy-loving siblings drilled their lowbrow sensibilities below sea level. With a prominent mean-spiritedness, the brothers darkened their usually lighthearted humor considerably in this gross-out The Color Of Money, about a disgraced former bowling champion, Roy Munson (Woody Harrelson, in one of his best, and, yes, most underrated performances) who hopes to vicariously gain respect through a middle-aged Amish prodigy, Ishmael (Randy Quaid), and deliver humiliating payback to the arrogant current champ, Ernie McCracken (Bill Murray).
But, of course, Roy's path to redemption, guided by his hook-hand, is a bumpy road covered with one dirty set-piece after another. At one moment, he's forced to sleep with his vile, elderly landlord; the next, he's unknowingly milking a bull with his mouth and slurping down a bucketful of the bull's, um, sperm. There's no delicate way to phrase that.
It's all incredibly absurd, vastly offensive, and always hilarious, thanks largely to the cast's uniformly strong acting. As the slithery villain, Murray revels in his despicable character's awfulness (McCracken's obnoxious TV commercials are highlights), and Harrelson, blessed with a multifaceted role, manages to earn sympathy even as he continually spits all over good taste. With Kingpin, the Farrelly brothers didn't just make the best bowling movie ever-they cranked out one of Hollywood's most under-appreciated "bathroom humor" flicks.
Mystery Men (1999)
Director: Kinka Usher
Stars: Ben Stiller, Janeane Garofalo, William H. Macy, Hank Azaria, Kel Mitchell, Paul Reubens, Greg Kinnear, Geoffrey Rush
Recently, a pair of "underqualified superhero" flicks gave Comic-Con regulars reasons to cheer. Matthew Vaughn's adaptation of Mark Millar's graphic novel Kick-Ass showed a teenage outcast turning himself into a crime-fighting vigilante, and writer-director James Gunn's underrated Super told a like-minded story with a middle-aged protagonist. What many fanboys neglect to remember, however, is that the likes of Ben Stiller, William H. Macy, and Pee Wee Herman started the not-so-superhero motif back in 1999 with Mystery Men.
The difference in director Kinka Usher's film, though, is that the bumbling do-gooders actually have special powers-just not anything that'd ever make the X-Men jealous. Stiller's Mr. Furious gets pissed-off far beyond any normal person's temper tantrums, Macy's Shoveler digs holes faster than others, and Reubens' Spleen uses his epic farts to fend off bad guys. Stan Lee must've kicked himself once Mystery Men premiered.
Half Baked (1998)
Director: Tamra Davis
Stars: Dave Chappelle, Guillermo Diaz, Jim Breuer, Harland Williams, Rachel True, Clarence Williams III
Amongst stoners and outspoken lovers of idiotic cinema, Half Baked is a long-celebrated, modern-day classic. So why's it on this list? Because, believe it or not, critics love to kill its buzz, panning the Tamra Davis-helmed pot comedy for its miniscule plot. To which we, on the behalf of dumbasses everywhere, must respond with, "Not all stoner films can be Dazed And Confused, purists."
Starring Dave Chappelle 10 years prior to the legendary Chappelle's Show's premiere, Half Baked is a mash-up of marijuana humor, asinine situations, hollow character development, a high-flying dog, and a love interest oh-so-subtly named Mary Jane. And, yes, it's funny as shit. A venerable cornucopia of inanity, Half Baked is hilarious even without the help of some primo sticky-icky, though accompanying this seedless batch of narrative weed with a doobie is akin to watching Man of Steel with 3D glasses.
Hangin' with the Homeboys (1991)
Director: Joseph Vasquez
Stars: Doug E. Doug, John Leguizamo, Mario Joyner, Nester Serrano
The independently made, and barely seen, Hangin' With The Homeboys is that rare kind of comedy, one that pulls its laughs from well-drawn characters and relatable interactions, not over-the-top setups or punchlines related to one's genitalia. In other words, writer-director Joseph Vasquez actually gave a damn about his characters while penning the screenplay, and it shows throughout the late filmmaker's laudable debut.
Joyner, Doug, Serrano, and Leguizamo form a believable chemistry as four longtime friends from the Bronx who share disdain for their lives. Direction-less jobs for some, and lack of unemployment for the others, prompt the pals to head into Manhattan for a fellas' night out, which degenerates into a series of comical mishaps and, intriguingly, fractured relationships and altogether eradicated friendships. Due to Vasquez's handle on the story's overall effects, Hangin' With The Homeboys defies its rather dated title to remain a fascinating and often funny look at mid-life crises.
Very Bad Things (1998)
Director: Peter Berg
Stars: Jon Favreau, Cameron Diaz, Christian Slater, Jeremy Piven, Daniel Stern, Leland Orser
Who doesn't love nihilism along with their laughs? Definitely not us. When executed properly, dark comedies are can be special pieces of taboo-smashing cinema, and Peter Berg's Very Bad Things ranks quite high on the list of Complex-approved examples.
First off, you've got a strongly matched ensemble, led by Jon Favreau, Jeremy Piven, and Christian Slater (back when he was actually funny); secondly, the premise is gruesome pleasure. A bunch of dudes head off to Vegas for a bachelor party that quickly devolves into a series of unfortunate events-sounds familiar? Compared to the misadventures of this film's cast, though, the Wolfpack's antics are merely child's play. Here, a stripper accidentally dies in their hotel room; then, they kill a security guard, which leads to mounting guilt within the groomsmen's heads. And, by the movie's end, several more dead bodies.
To both the actors' and Berg's credit (he also wrote the screenplay), the film's gratuitous violence and increasingly bleak tone never disrupt the comedy, which fires away with Uzi-like precision. Don't expect any morality lessons or a happy ending here; Very Bad Things has one goal, and it's to simultaneously shock and amuse.
Mystery Science Theater 3000: The Movie (1996)
Director: Jim Mallon
Stars: Michael J. Nelson, Trace Beaulieu, Kevin Murphy, Jim Mallon, John Brady
It's no surprise that Mystery Science Theater 3000 landed in cinemas with an unceremonious thud back in '96; in reality, it wasn't the most bankable idea to begin with. A big screen expansion of a same-named, regimentally celebrated sci-fi TV show, which ran from 1988 through 1999 on both Comedy Central and the then-Sci-Fi Channel, MST3K: The Movie started its theatrical run with an 0-2 count. Its audience, while passionate, was already minimally sized, and the general concept, that of a human and two snarky robots watching shitty C-grade genre movies and cracking endless jokes, has never appealed to anyone beyond the film geek sect.
Fifteen years later, MST3K: The Movie still won't persuade any close-minded types to hang Tom Servo and Crow T. Robot posters on their bedroom walls. For fans that get it, though, it's a prime example of an adored genre program transitioning into Hollywood without losing any of its uniquely creative mojo. In it, Mike Nelson, Servo, and Crow rip apart the 1955 science fiction turd This Island Earth, assaulting the film-within-the-film's shoddy costumes, dated effects, and hokey line deliveries.
It's basically what we've done this summer while watching crap like After Earth and The Internship, just much funnier.
Fear of a Black Hat (1993)
Director: Rusty Cundieff
Stars: Rusty Cundieff, Larry B. Scott, Mark Christopher Lawrence, Kasi Lemmons
In a time when rappers still try to sell ridiculous gimmicks as artificially clever in-jokes and/or social messages, Rusty Cundieff's faux-documentary Fear of a Black Hat remains as timely as ever. It's hip-hop's very own This Is Spinal Tap, following a sociologist (Kasi Lemmons) who trails the controversial, and fictional, rap group N.W.H. (Ni**az With Hats) as part of a collegiate assignment. Yet, Cundieff's sly music industry satire maintains an undeserving air of anonymity, and that's a crock.
The best jokes in Fear of a Black Hat revolve around the trio's insistence on branding their offensive and misogynistic songs as socially relevant and metaphorical allegories. Take "Come And Pet The P.U.S.S.Y." for instance; according to the members of N.W.H. (Ice Cold, Tone Def, and Tasty-Taste), their vagina-stroking jam is actually a commentary on gender relations, one that the haters just don't understand.
Not only is Fear of a Black Hat one of the '90s' most slept-on flicks, it's also one of the hip-hop culture's sharpest satires. It deserves another look.
Matinee (1993)
Director: Joe Dante
Stars: John Goodman, Cathy Moriarty, Simon Fenton, Omri Katz, Kellie Martin, Robert Picardo, John Sayles
Similar to Mystery Science Theater 3000: The Movie, Matinee, director Joe Dante's (Gremlins) funny and touching reflection upon the schlock cinema of the 1960s, specifically caters to genre movie heads. That doesn't mean that folks who've never seen flicks like The Tingler or House On Haunted Hill can't appreciate it, though; it just helps, tremendously.
John Goodman gives one of his best performances as a gimmicky film producer whose cinematic parlor tricks (such as unleashing a guy dressed as a half-man/half-insect into a theater showing his latest film, Mant) help to distract a small Key West community from impending Soviet threats, circa 1962.
Goodman's character is based largely on William Castle, a horror director/producer who sold his B-grade flicks through in-theater trickery, like buzzers in seats and handmade ghosts flying on strings above the audience. So the bulk of Matinee's funny moments play on similarly ridiculous tactics (Atomo-Vision, Rumble-Rama), making Dante's energetic flick a delight for film buffs and horror die-hards alike.
The Brady Bunch Movie (1995)
Director: Betty Thomas
Stars: Shelley Long, Gary Cole, Christine Taylor, Christopher Daniel Barnes, Jennifer Elise Cox, Michael McKean
Big screen adaptations of old-school TV classics normally blow; think Sgt. Bilko, Leave It To Beaver, Car 54! Where Are You?, The Honeymooners...you get the point. So director Betty Thomas' wonderful handling of rampant '70s nostalgia in her endlessly witty The Brady Bunch Movie is worth endless affection.
Led by totally in-on-the-joke performances from Gary Cole and Shelley Long as Mike and Carol Brady, respectively, this update on the beloved '70s show intelligently transplants that era's now-tacky fashion, gee-whiz dialogue, and cutesy demeanors into the much seedier side of '90s suburbia.
Rather than take some goofy high-concept narrative route (like, say, an opening scene where the Bradys travel ahead through time in a Delorean-like vessel), Thomas' charming and cleverly silly pic opts for the funnier approach: the Bradys are just enormously out-of-touch. This, naturally, leads to a large amount of hilarity, smart humor that impressively carried into the 1996's A Very Brady Sequel.
Dave (1993)
Director: Ivan Reitman
Stars: Kevin Kline, Sigourney Weaver, Frank Langella, Ving Rhames, Ben Kingsley, Charles Grodin, Laura Linney, Bonnie Hunt
Steeped in old-school Hollywood sentiments, Ivan Reitman's politically savvy comedy Dave operates with the kind of "simple man takes on massive duties" allure that Adam Sandler miserably failed to achieve with 2002's Mr. Deeds. Kevin Kline plays an average Joe, Dave Kovic, who looks a hell of a lot like the nation's president, a closeness in physicality that his character exploits by moonlighting as a presidential impersonator. When the Commander In Chief becomes ill, Dave is hired as the prez's official proxy, unbeknownst to the American people.
Pleasantly staged and ripe with CNN-worthy appeal, Dave mines its laughs through several cameos from actual politicians and Washington insiders (Chris Matthews, Senator Christopher Dodd, John McLaughlin). But, really, it's Kevin Kline's show; able to elicit sympathy as Dave uses his newfound powers to combat lower-class strife, as well as belly laughs whenever his wide-eyed character basks in the situation's insanity, Kline roots Dave in steadfast likability.
Heavyweights (1995)
Director: Steven Brill
Stars: Ben Stiller, Tom McGowan, Aaron Schwartz, Kenan Thompson
Low-key the funniest live-action Disney movie ever made, Heavyweights is also one of the most subversive (up until the final ten minutes, but you can always press pause before then). The credit for that rests with one person: Judd Apatow, one of two writers credited with the bizarre and decidedly non-PG screenplay.
Sketch the plot out on a napkin, and Heavyweights sounds no different than any other kiddie fare: A group of lovable boys at a fat camp rebel against the crazy new owner after he snaps and starts subjecting the kids to cruel and unusual punishment ("Then we're going to climb that 1000-foot rock face over there with our bare hands and feet. I know you can do it.").
Ben Stiller plays Tony Perkis, the new owner of Camp Hope. First time viewers will find that Stiller's character in Dodgeball had his genesis with this film, and it's funnier and weirder than that piece of shit Vince Vaughn vehicle. Stiller goes for broke, his hair zapped out like he's been fucking an electrical socket, his eyes crazy like he liked it.
Full of weird homages to—no joke—Schindler's List and Platoon, Heavyweights is barely recognizable as a Disney flick. And that's why it's so great.
The Freshman (1990)
Director: Andrew Bergman
Stars: Matthew Broderick, Marlon Brando, Penelope Ann Miller, Bruno Kirby, Frank Whaley
The Freshman should have been a blasphemous disaster. In a ballsy move, Marlon Brando stars as a wink-wink caricature of his iconic Vito Corleone character from The Godfather, lending strong credibility to director Andrew Bergman's film theory satire of that mob movie classic. Matthew Broderick plays a wannabe director who enrolls into a Manhattan film school, gets mugged before he even checks into his dorm room, and unwittingly ends up as a flunky for a neighborhood importer/exporter named Carmine Sabatini (Brando).
Driving the Mario Puzo references home, Sabatini operates out of a darkly-lit room not unlike Vito's, and Broderick's character points out Sabatini's uncanny resemblance to The Godfather's don. On paper, The Freshman seems like a bad idea, but Brando's performance is so poignantly self-aware and clever, and the film's script is so intelligently constructed, that Bergman's unique spoof works as a singular comedy in its own right.
As long as James Gandolfini never headlines a mafia-themed show on Comedy Central, we'll never have any reason to frown upon The Freshman.
What About Bob? (1991)
Director: Frank Oz
Stars: Bill Murray, Richard Dreyfuss, Julie Hagerty, Charlie Korsmo, Kathryn Erbe
Thanks to this zany and slyly intelligent jewel's recent 20-year anniversary, we've already dedicated an entire list to Bill Murray's most slept-on works; having thought about it further, What About Bob? might very well be Sir Murray's best non-heralded movie. If anything, it's certainly the most underrated comedy of the '90s.
At his most manic, Murray kills it as an overly neurotic psychiatry patient who turns his therapist's (Richard Dreyfuss, perfectly droll before shifting into an uproarious meltdown) life upside down. Frank Oz's pic is wonderfully off-center, full of darkly funny dialogue ("Death therapy, Bob-it's a guaranteed cure!") and bolstered by the tit-for-tat interplay between Murray and Dreyfuss.
Though it goes a bit too overboard near the end (see: explosions and a shotgun-wielding Dreyfuss), What About Bob? is never less than hilarious, not to mention loonier than a Wile E. Coyote cartoon.