8/14/08: Growing Yourself (1983)The stupidest thing we ever heard from Corey Feldman—and, yes, ponder that—was his complaining about how his big comeback in
National Lampoon's Last Resort went direct-to-video. Baffled, he asked if anybody had ever heard of a National Lampoon production that didn’t get released in theaters. To be fair, Corey was too young to remember
National Lampoon’s Movie Madness. That was the company’s first release after
Animal House, and the only audience that film ever found was during 3 a.m. screenings in the early days of HBO.
Actually, it’s not likely anybody got through that lousy opening sequence where Dr. John sings about going to the movies. (The accompanying illustration for the writers’ credits is a marijuana gag, ha-ha.) But then you get to the first of three film parodies—and
Growing Yourself is really much funnier than
Animal House. That’s apparent from the opening, as the titles play over a bouncy acoustic tune. “Just like a tree,” sings our balladeer, “I want to grow…I want to live in this world of ours, and never think of anyone but me.”
The music’s accompanied by Jason Cooper (played by Peter Riegert) packing up his wife’s clothes. She arrives home to be informed that she’s leaving him. “I need you to leave me,” he explains, “so that I can find out who I really am.” He also explains that she needs to grow. She protests that she’s perfectly happy as a wife and mother.
“Happiness doesn’t make you happy,” Jason replies. “Growing makes you happy.”
Jason is next seen explaining to his kids that their mother had to leave because she was more like a potato than a fruit. Jason then attempts to cook dinner, and promptly burns down the house. It doesn’t help that the responding fireman is a real-estate dealer who’s only joined the fire department so that he could learn more about himself. The good news is that the fireman can offer Jason an 8-room rent-controlled apartment overlooking Central Park.
By now, we’re firmly in a perfect parody of
An Unmarried Woman and several other irritating movies about troubled rich white babes who ended the ’70s by taking their head off and screwing it back on right and not letting any man tell them it’s not. (That line’s stolen from a similar parody we’ll get around to someday.) Jason goes into his office to quite his job as a corporate attorney, and finds his boss is getting ready to run off to Alaska to trap beavers.
We jump to one year later, when Jason works from home as the director of a plant orphanage. He’s also dating a 14-year-old fashion model, but she won’t go see Fassbinder films with him. Also, the sex is bad. “Face it,” she tells him, “you’re impudent.”
Jason’s ex-wife shows up. As she explains, “I just have this natural flair for running major chemical corporations.” She’s the president of Union Carbide, and has dropped by to give Jason her newborn child. (“I forgot to bring my diaphragm to the OPEC conference.”) That’s not really a burden, since Jason’s managed to misplace nearly all of his other children during the course of the film. “They may be out finding themselves,” he says.
That’s a lot of stuff crammed into a short film, and we’re far from over. Jason will hook up with a hot older woman—like, his age—and they’ll find ecstasy in bed while discussing their need for personal growth. We’ll also see Jason’s wife one more time. None of this may be as funny as when Jill Clayburgh throws up in
An Unmarried Woman, but it’s all pretty great.
So are the next two segments.
The Success Wanters isn’t as entertaining as
The Lonely Lady, but it was there first as a Harold Robbins parody.
The Municipalians is a goof on the Joseph Wambaugh school of embittered-cop movies, and it’s a shame there weren’t more of those. Richard Widmark and Robby Benson never got a better comedy showcase. (There’s also an actor named Barry Diamond who could’ve totally sued Bobcat Goldthwait by the end of the decade.) These other two are apolitical, but it’s nice to see the
Dirty Harry-styled arc of Benson’s earnest young cop.
Interestingly, it was left to sensitive filmmaker Henry Jaglom to make
The Municipalians. First-time filmmaker Bob Giraldi directed the other segments—but his crowning comedic achievement remains Pat Benatar’s video for “Love Is A Battlefield.” Let’s also note that Don McLean sings the opening theme to
Growing Yourself. The creep probably didn’t get the joke.
Make it your own: National Lampoon’s Movie Madness—aka
National Lampoon Goes to the Movies—can be found cheap
on DVD, like most things on the MGM label. Honestly, you can make it past that Dr. John song.
