John Candy: I Like Me review: Colin Hanks and Ryan Reynolds deliver a doc about the Canadian comedy legend

How do you encapsulate the life of work of John Candy in a single film? The Canadian comedian, who first thrilled TV audiences on SCTV, made a slew of deeply hilarious and heartfelt movies like Splash, Uncle Buck, Planes, Trains, and Automobiles, The Great Outdoors, and Cool Runnings. He was a comedy titan beloved on and offscreen.

John Candy: I Like Me attempts to explore both through a cavalcade of clips from Candy’s movies and TV appearances, as well as interviews with his family and famous friends like Bill Murray, Dan Aykroyd, Martin Short, Eugene Levy, Catherine O’Hara, Mel Brooks, Macaulay Culkin, and Tom Hanks. Notably, this documentary is directed by Hanks’ son, Colin Hanks (and produced by the very famous Canadian movie star Ryan Reynolds). Yet for all the star power and the presumably personal connection Hanks has to the subject, John Candy: I Like Me lacks depth.

Sure, you get Candy’s story. But Colin Hanks, who previously helmed the doc Eagles of Death Metal: Nos Amis (Our Friends), has little vision here. So, the movie feels a pale reflection of the man who inspired it. 

Still, John Candy: I Like Me might be a must-see for comedy fans.

Candy’s death in 1994, at the age of 43, sent shockwaves through Canada and beyond. He was a comedy legend, adored not only for all the laughs he brought us, but also because of the incredible heart he brought to the screen. Speaking for myself, watching Candy made me feel safe.

Whether he was squaring off against an intensely inquisitive Culkin in Uncle Buck, eating an obscenely large steak in The Great Outdoors, or hollering at the Jamaican bobsled team in Cool Runnings, his comedy created a space of comfort and joy. I was a kid when he died, and I remember weeping because I felt like I knew him. I felt like he was mine. That was a gift Candy gave to his audiences. He seemed an open book, and we were ready to read it all.

John Candy: I Like Me shows the pain hidden behind this jovial persona, much of it to do with the comedian’s unprocessed grief over the death of his father, who died on Candy’s fifth birthday. His widow Rosemary Hobor, his children Christopher and Jennifer, and his closest friends speak to how this early loss reverberated throughout Candy’s life. But Hanks isn’t able to create a flowing thread of this struggle with grief and joy. Instead, the director presents the film in segments that jump back and forth in Candy’s life. While informative, this haphazard structure and stiff approach lacks the energy of Candy himself.

Still, comedy fans who want to know more about this giant in the genre will want to see what is offered. But they should manage their expectations.

Colin Hanks lacks focus in John Candy: I Like Me. 

There’s plenty of interesting information in this documentary. SCTV alum like Levy, Short, O’Hara, and Dave Thomas happily recount Candy’s early days in comedy, a time when he was nicknamed “Johnny Toronto” because of his bravado. Thomas in particular recounts a story about how Candy rented a stretch limo to posture as a big shot, even when he couldn’t pay his bills. Murray shares another tale about the comically expensive home decor Candy accidentally committed to in his salad days. These anecdotes are wonderful, enlightening, and reveal a side to Candy his audiences didn’t get to see. Sadly, they are too few and far between. 

Too often, the film becomes a barrage of people saying the same general niceties, without giving specific stories. Beyond feeling redundant, this approach also creates the sense of a mournful eulogy. This maudlin attitude is kicked off in the film’s start, with footage from Candy’s funeral and Aykroyd’s actual eulogy playing as solemn voiceover. It’s a staunch reminder that all that follows will lead to an early, tragic demise. A pall is cast over the pile-on of compliments. And it left me wishing Hanks had dug deeper. 

For instance, many folks say that Candy sought to make every on-set experience good for everyone involved, cast and crew. Why not share some specifics? Find a crew member who decades later can recount a time Candy connected with them? It’s not that I don’t believe the claims of these co-stars and colleagues. But too often, Hanks rests on these vague reflections instead of probing to storytelling.

John Candy: I Like More works best when Candy is front and center.

The most revealing moments of the documentary end up being archival interviews where Candy speaks for himself. Insensitive reporters ask him fatphobic questions about his weight, and you can see the sting in his eyes. Candy’s wife then shares insight that his doctors urged him to lose weight, but Hollywood agents suggested if he did, it’d hurt his career. 

That’s an intriguing area: how show business held up and hurt this star. But Hanks only brushes on it, pivoting back to Candy’s paternal grief and coping mechanisms of overeating, drinking, and smoking. Rather than create a complex tapestry of the comedian, these segments feel strangely patchwork, stitched together clumsily. Then, Hanks — as suggested by the title — refers to Candy’s movies for a summation of his legacy.

Quoting Del Griffith, the character Candy memorably played in Planes, Trains and Automobiles, “I like me” suggests Candy was comfortable in his own skin, when much of the movie suggests he carried great pain and fear his whole life. That is not a tragedy. That is not something to be glossed over. Because Candy didn’t let that pain make him a cynic. Instead, he used it as fuel to make the world laugh, to ease our pain, to feel a fatherly warmth he himself lost at such an early age. That’s incredibly brave, inspiring, and human in the best way. But this doc loses that amid its flurry of half-baked segments.

Hanks has great elements in John Candy: I Like Me. But how he pulls them together lacks showmanship, elegance, and a personal connection. If I didn’t know going in who the director was, I’d assume it was someone who never knew Candy, because the film has that tiresome veneer of fawning that often happens when a director idealizes their subject. The impact of such a lens is that it flattens not only the lows of a subject’s life, but also its highs. The contrast is lost amid the eagerness to keep things admirable. (Props again to Robbie Williams with Better Man, who literally allowed himself to be made a dancing ape to better communicate his wild rise and falls.) 

In the end, I value learning more about Candy’s life, welcoming a greater context to his onscreen persona and even his signature chuckle. But walking away from John Candy: I Like Me, I couldn’t help but wish for more.

John Candy: I Like Me was reviewed out of its world premiere at the Toronto International Film Festival. The documentary will debut on Prime Video on Oct. 10.