Dumb and Dumber (New Line Cinema, 1994)
“What do you call it when there’s someone you find attractive, but you know that if you tell anyone else about it they’ll think you’re nuts because that person isn’t beautiful by conventional standards?”
This is the question that occurred to me as a young man growing up. I’m aware of “Beauty is in the eye of the beholder,” but I feel like there should be some hip phrase to describe it, like how “butterface” succinctly and horribly captures the idea of a woman who is beautiful… but-her-face…
Dumb and Dumber is the movie version of that idea. A cinematic butterface, if you will.
If you were to break the film down and analyze each of its components, you really don’t find much of beauty. The direction is flat. The cinematography has no personality. The soundtrack is one step above vintage porn. But there are some movies that just have a certain charm, and for me, Dumb and Dumber is one such film – if only for Jim Carrey and Jeff Daniels.
“What I Like” vs “What is Good”
As I fancy myself a dabbler in commentary upon the cinema, this is clearly not a movie that is going to win any awards. Actually, I looked it up, and it won an MTV Movie award. So that says… something.
When discussing movies with friends, on dates (few as they are), or with homeless people I lure with the promise of free booze, I often distinguish between “movies that are good” and “movies that I like.”
For example, The Shawshank Redemption is a good movie. It is artistically crafted. From the writing, to the acting, to set design, everything about it is created with care and attention. Even if you think it’s over-hyped, it’s hard to pick at any elements of the film that are not well crafted.
But after a long week, do you really want to sit down, dim the lights, and watch The Shawshank Redemption?
That shit is depressing.
Dumb and Dumber is not The Shawshank Redemption.
If the legacy of my cinematic criticism is “Dumb and Dumber is not The Shawshank Redemption,” I will die a happy man, riding off a cliff into a fiery explosion at the age of 112 with a cheap hooker’s mouth around my… well. Let’s just say I’ll die happy.
In fact, dare I say that if it weren’t for Carrey and (to a lesser extent) Daniels’ at their peak performance, this movie would suck ass. Hard.
Fun fact: Sitting in a heart shaped jacuzzi, Lloyd (Carrey) and Harry (Daniels) discuss a mutual paramour named Fraida Felcher. It is bold that they should include the term “Felcher,” which is a particularly gross sexual act. Unless your’e into that thing. I don’t judge. But it seemed appropriate (or appropriately inappropriate) to include that factoid here. No reason though. Don’t look it up.
Lemons to Lemonade
I want to share some lines of dialogue without their context to illustrate how bad the screenplay itself actually is.
“Killer boots, man!”
“You wanna hear the most annoying sound in the world?”
“Pills are good, pills are good!”
“Sampsonite! I was way off.”
But each of these lines is nailed by Carrey’s impeccable timing and exaggerated screen presence. “Killer boots, man!” is shouted back at a state trooper (Harland Williams) with a mix of positivity and naïveté. “You wanna hear the most annoying sound in the world?” is asked with the excitement of a child who believes they have something fantastic to share with a parent. “Pills are good, pills are good” is said in an over-the-top attempt to be calming (and is one of my favorite low-key lines). “Sampsonite! I was way off” is said with relief and joy.
Carrey’s enthusiasm for the role is boundless, and props are used to great effect. Lloyd promises that he will be frugal, and we cut to him carrying a box of beer with a bunch of pinwheels poking out, as he struggles to play with a paddle ball game and dons an enormous oversized foam cowboy hat. He stops to pick up an issue of “The Rhode Island Slut,” which is the most wonderfully preposterous name for a nudie magazine ever.
Petie the bird, with his head taped on. The tuxedos. The “shaggin’ wagon”. The cartoonish props vibe perfectly with Carrey’s cartoonish performance. It’s no wonder he would go on to star in fine films like How the Grinch Stole Christmas and Sonic: The Hedgehog.
Eh ok, that’s not the best argument I’ve ever made. Anyway. My point is, this is Carrey at his peak.
It’s not even that Jeff Daniels is bad. It’s just that he is more understated, and is but the moon to Carrey’s sun. Carrey clearly carry’s the day.
Yes, that was meant to be a pun.
Anyway, I actually do have a critical cinematic theory I would like to describe: That Dumb and Dumber is the shining exemplar of all 90’s comedy.
The Heroes We Deserve
The 1990’s were economically booming, technology was bringing the world closer together, and politics usually involved Bill Clinton’s penis. These are perhaps reflective of the hallmarks of the 90’s comedy ethos.
Another film of director Peter Farrelly’s, There’s Something About Mary (’98), joins the ranks of films like American Pie (’99), The Big Lebowski (’98) and Beavis and Butt-head Do America (’96) as illustrating the raunchy direction that 90’s comedy would take. Dumb and Dumber (’94) is an early foray into such territory. Love, sex, and the lack thereof are ever-present companions to Harry and Lloyd, who both ultimately desire to find love – or at least, would like to get laid. As Lloy eloquently opines, “The first time I set eyes on Mary Swanson, I just got that old fashioned romantic feeling where I’d do anything to bone her.” I’m not writing an AP English essay, but if I was, I would love to include the sentence, “A determination to get laid is a unifying theme in late 90’s comedy.”
Now that I think about it, Beavis and Butt-head Do America is essentially the same movie. Both comedy films feature two stupid male protagonists who travel across the country under the false impression that sex awaits them at their destination. Both sets of protagonists get accidentally mixed up through a case of mistaken identity into a crime larger than themselves. Both attract the attention of federal agencies (the FBI and the ATF, respectively) who are ultimately trying to track down the villains that precipitated the main storyline.
I mean, Hitchcock’s North by Northwest (’59) has a somewhat similar plotline, so I suppose one could say that both films share roots with one of the best adventure films ever made. Share roots, homage, steal from, whatever you want to call it.
Dumb and Dumber also echoes the grunge movement that was arising from Nirvana on the music scene, and shares the ethos of the everyman down on his luck with another contemporary film, Clerks (’94). Vulgarity, absurdity, and the oh-so-90’s-ness of it all resonates through both.
If aliens were to arrive on Earth and, for some odd reason, asked us for our best example of comedy during what the earthlings call the 1990’s, Dumb and Dumber should be our response.
And sure, they might nuke us for it. But at this point, would that really be so bad?
Verdict
To say Dumb and Dumber is worth watching is an understatement. If Dumb and Dumber comes on, you watch it. Period.
I don’t care what part of the movie is on. I don’t care what else you had planned. The ice cream you left on the counter can wait. Grandma can always get her cancer treatment later. You stop whatever you’re doing, and you sit down and you watch Dumb and Dumber.
And don’t tell me you’re too good for it. If you do, I hate you, and by definition that means you aren’t better than this movie.
But no, you don’t need to buy a copy.