Uncle Buck

Starring: Patricia Arquette

Directed by: John Hughes

RS: Not Rated

1989 Drama

Uncle Buck

560 (9-7-89)
During the same time that John Belushi was rising to prominence on Saturday Night Live, John Candy, another oversize comic with a talent to match, was building his reputation on SCTV. His first movie roles, supporting parts in such goodies as Stripes, Splash and Volunteers, promised a solid career.

Then something happened. Studios began to shove the deservedly popular Candy into the star spot. Good idea. Lousy execution. So far, Candy's had a run of turkeys, with special dishonorable mention going to Summer Rental, The Great Outdoors and Who's Harry Crumb?

Regrettably, Candy's latest opus is the worst of a bad bunch. On the surface, things looked promising. Written and directed by John Hughes (Planes, Trains and Automobiles), Uncle Buck concerns a bachelor (Candy) in crisis. When his brother and sister-in-law are called out of town, Buck the boob is put in charge of his nephew and two nieces. Six-year-old Maizy (Gaby Hoffman) and eight-year-old Miles (Macaulay Culkin) aren't much of a hassle. They're your typical precocious sitcom brats, except this isn't television and they can say, "Shit" and "That dog is a real ball sniffer," and other cute things. Fifteen-year-old Tia (Jean Kelly) is the real problem: She threatens to go all the way with her boyfriend. Buck's got his own romantic troubles. His girlfriend Chanice, played by the woefully wasted Amy Madigan, can't get him to the altar. And Marcie, a horny next-door neighbor, exuberantly portrayed by Laurie Metcalf of TV's Roseanne, can't get him to bed.

The idea suggests a sassy update on the Clifton Webb Mr. Belvedere comedies of the Fifties. But Hughes insists on dragging things down to the smarm level. Jokes about fat, odor and bodily functions abound. The low point comes when Candy struggles to repair a washer. Marcie, standing outside the laundry, cannot see him, but she hears his cries. "Open up," Uncle Buck shouts, "I want to shove my load into you." Hughes may think this kind of crude humor means box-office cash. But by squandering Candy's talents on junk, he's shortchanging the audience. Where Candy is concerned, Uncle Buck is more than lame. It's a shame.