Animal House
(1978) is the pioneer of mainstream gross-out comedies, featuring a classic
battle between the snobs and the slobs that takes the form of an escalating
prank war, culminating in a memorable parade of devilment. It is a film that
spawned countless toga-themed college parties and was the inspiration for any
number of cafeteria food fights. Spawned by the malcontents at the popular
humor magazine National Lampoon, Animal House was an ideal combination of
the right elements, from the hilarious screenplay by Doug Kenney, Chris Miller
and Harold Ramis to an ensemble cast that featured veteran character actors
(John Vernon) and up-and-comers (Tim Matheson), all anchored by larger than
life comedian John Belushi of Saturday
Night Live fame. The end result was nothing short of cinematic lightning in
a bottle with a film that delighted in thumbing its nose at any notion of good
taste.
We meet two aspiring college
freshmen – Kent Dorfman (Stephen Furst) and Larry Kroger (Tom Hulce) – attempting
to pledge a fraternity. They are played to dweebie perfection by Tom Hulce, as
the goofy square-peg, and Stephen Furst; the pudgy, baby-faced legacy. They are
immediately dismissed as a “wimp and a blimp” by a sorority girl working the
welcome table at the Omega House party. Right from the get-go, director John Landis
makes it clear what the Omegas are – boring, stuffy and elitist. Everyone is in
suit and tie with someone playing insipid dinner music on the piano. Host
Douglas Neidermeyer (Mark Metcalf) oozes faux sincerity as he repeatedly gets
Larry’s name wrong and quickly shepherds him and Kent over to the party’s
anti-VIP section whose guests already include an African, an Indian, a nerd,
and a physically handicapped student.
Kent tries to mingle with
the senior Omegas and is quickly steered back to the “undesirables” corner of
the party by frat president Greg Marmalard (James Daughton) (in a nice touch he
always gets Larry’s name wrong). Larry and Kent then try their luck at the
Delta House – the latter’s brother was once a member. However, Larry says that
he heard the Deltas were the worst house on campus. As if to prove his point, a
naked mannequin hurtles out a window as they first approach the house. The boys
are immediately introduced to one of its longstanding members, Bluto (John
Belushi) already so hammered that he inadvertently pees on them.
Entering Delta House is like
entering another world – one in which you must dodge flying beer bottles and drunken co-eds as both can be
hazardous to your health. To say that casual dress is the norm would be a gross
understatement. While the Omegas represent order, the Deltas are all about
chaos. They are everything Omega House is not – noise, dirt, drunken
debauchery, and colorful characters living the fun life. There’s the
aforementioned Bluto who sits off in the corner, crushing beer cans on his
forehead; D-Day (Bruce McGill) makes a dramatic entrance bursting through the
front door on his hog before driving up the stairs (where he proceeds to play
the William Tell Overture on his throat) and there’s Otter (Tim Matheson) and
Boon (Peter Riegert), the leaders of Delta House. As they bemusedly work the
room of prospective pledges, Otter turns on the fake charm, dazzling men and
women alike. There’s a memorable bit where he and Boon, his deadpan sidekick,
meet the wide-eyed Kent, taking an unusual interest in his tie (“90% rayon –
very nice.” Boon notes dryly.) The Delta initiation’s goal: to get their
pledges drunk off their asses while the Omegas’ is a solemn ritual wherein the
pledges are repeatedly paddled (“Thank you sir, may I have another!”). It is
hedonistic pleasures vs. fascist cruelty – to which house would you rather belong?
Tim Matheson and Peter
Riegert play off each other as if they’d been a comedy duo for years. In yet
another classic scene, Otter and Boon talk about improving the latter’s golf
swing. “Don’t think of it as work. The whole point is just to enjoy yourself.”
Otter tells him as Neidermeyer is dragged away behind his newly spooked horse.
Matheson’s strength lies in his ability to deliver rousing monologues of
complete bullshit that is intended to rally both his frat brothers and the
viewer. Early on, Otter convinces the house to accept Kent, whom the rest initially
dismiss as a loser (“Well, let me tell you the story of another loser,” he says
before being pelted with beer cans). Matheson’s finest moment, however, is when
he defends Delta’s crazy antics in front of Faber College Dean Wormer (John
Vernon) and the student disciplinary council, which, incidentally, is made up
of Omegas and their sister sorority (“I’m in pre-law, man,” Otter tells a
nervous frat brother to which Boon, without missing a beat replies, “I thought
you were pre-med,” to which Otter counters, “What’s the difference?”) It is one
of the best speeches delivered in a comedy, whose inspiration can be seen a few
years later in Bill Murray’s rally to his fellow troops in Stripes (1981).
And let’s not forget John
Belushi. Animal House was initially
seen as a vehicle for the comedian and is definitely tailor-made for his
considerable comedic talents. This film is a potent reminder of his comic
genius. He has few lines but makes such a memorable impression through his
knack for physical comedy, whether it was the arch of an eyebrow as a
declaration of war (or at least the start of a food fight) or Bluto on lookout
to make sure the coast is clear for Kent and D-Day to smuggle Neidermeyer’s
prized horse into Wormer’s office. The way Belushi takes a pratfall (only to
get right back up) is a marvel of silent comedy. He does this again when spying
on the girls’ scantily clad pillow fight at the sorority house. Belushi’s
expressive face was a potent comedic weapon, like the way his eyes bulged in
surprise or the mischievous twinkle in them as he saunters impishly past the
Omegas in the cafeteria. Bluto is the catalyst for much of the anarchy in the
film; from the food fight to the ending showdown, he plays key roles in both.
Belushi was one of those fearless performers not afraid to look silly, stupid
or gross, all in the service of a good gag.
Wormer (John Vernon) unavoidably
becomes fed up with Delta House’s antics and decides to put them on Double
Secret Probation: one more screw-up and they all are not only kicked off campus
but also expelled. This sets in motion a series of pranks and dirty tricks that
pits the Omegas against the Deltas, culminating in a hilariously chaotic
finale. It’s how John Vernon says his lines that makes him so keenly memorable,
like the complete and utter disdain that he drips all over the word “twerp,” as
he insults the Omega House president. Only an old school character actor like
Vernon could say lines like, “Every Halloween, the trees are filled with
underwear, every spring the toilets explode,” with a straight face and the
proper amount of gravitas. He sells every line of dialogue like it was
Shakespeare. Wormer represents every authority figure that gave you a hard time
in school, every teacher that gave you a bad grade and every principal that
gave you detention. He’s the mustache-twirling baddie and the pompous windbag
right out of a Marx brothers movie. This dastardly demeanor is what makes his
comeuppance so satisfying.
What separates Animal House from its countless
imitators is the fantastic ensemble of actors that the film’s producers
assembled. Most of the young, talented cast consisted largely of then unknowns.
At the time, Belushi and Donald Sutherland were the only ‘big names.’ What keeps
the film clicking along is the dialogue. It’s not just what the actors say
(although, there are truly classic quotes), but how they say it. These actors
understand that how the dialogue is delivered is crucial to making it funny.
The film is also full of classic comedic set pieces: the smuggling of
Neidermeyer’s horse into Wormer’s office, the cafeteria food fight, the Delta
road trip to see Otis Day (“You remind me of Fawn.”) and, of course, the
climactic showdown between the Omegas and the Deltas. As with any zeitgeist
film, Animal House spawned countless
variations on its premise, including Porky’s
(Animal House set in a high school)
and Police Academy (Animal House joins the police). It also
spawned countless imitations, some good (Old
School) and some not so good (Van
Wilder). Accept no substitutes — the original is still the best and
revisiting it only reaffirms just how well this film has aged.
This is such a gem of a film. Wonderful look back at the film that really wrote the book. It's a classic. Who knew blowing food out of your cheeks could stand the test of time with such power, but it does.
ReplyDeleteIt's a brilliant film for all of the reasons you mention particularly the performances as you note. Just fantastic stuff.
Btw, for whatever reason, I loved Porkys too, but Animal House and films like 1941 are just unforgettable and I suspect JOhn Belushi played a part in it my friend. He broke the mold.
All the best
SFF
The Sci-Fi Fanatic:
ReplyDeleteThanks for commenting! yeah, this is a film that still holds up after all these years and all the imitators (PORKY'S included). Belushi certainly plays a large role in the film's brilliance but the filmmmakers wisely surrounded him with a talented cast that plays off of him and each other so well.