July 26, 1996

You know I love THE CABLE GUY, and there’s another favorite coming up, but to me there’s no doubt that KINGPIN is the comedy of 1996. In fact, I think it’s somewhere in my personal top ten comedies of all time, somewhere beneath PEE-WEE’S BIG ADVENTURE, THE BLUES BROTHERS, THE BIG LEBOWSKI and TALLADEGA NIGHTS.

It’s the second film from Peter & Bobby Farrelly (now a team directing a script by Golden Girls writers Barry Fanaro & Mort Nathan), and definitely my favorite of theirs. I think of them as a little cheesy now, but the filmmaking in this one is strong, and that’s part of why it works. It’s stuffed with broad, rapid fire jokes, but it looks and feels like A Real Movie. It’s way funnier and sillier than the average comedy, but at the end when it acts like I care about the characters mending their relationships and getting what they want, it’s not being presumptuous. I really do! It’s a very precise tone that I rarely see pulled off this successfully.

I gotta give some credit to cinematographer Mark Irwin (SCANNERS, NIGHT SCHOOL, THE PROTECTOR, THE BLOB) and also to costume designer Mary Zophres (PCU), who did FARGO the same year and later returned to bowling wear for THE BIG LEBOWSKI. She creates such a world out of polyester and dagger collars, riding the exact line between sort of cool ‘70s swagger and completely out of touch loser. This is a movie where you can have a combover that almost counts as a separate character, yet feel confident putting Elvis Presley or Evel Knievel style showmanship in your outfit.

But I think the main weapon in the Farrelly arsenal is Woody Harrelson (THE COWBOY WAY), who plays Roy Munson, washed up 1979 Iowa State Amateur Bowling Champion, with at least as much drama as his previous role in THE PEOPLE VS. LARRY FLYNT. He’s not gonna lose his sitcom-vet comic timing, but he treats the character completely seriously, grounding us in his very real regrets and dreams of digging his way out of the shitty life he lives. It makes every joke funnier that he plays it so real. An example:

He also has the funniest double takes when the other characters do outlandish things. He doesn’t pick up on how insane it is for a second and then it registers, and we get to watch that. Anyway, I’m sure glad John Grisham wouldn’t let Joel Schumacher give him the lead in A TIME TO KILL since it left him free to do this!

I love the movie’s depiction of bowling as a glamorous and high stakes world. When we first see Roy as an adult it’s 1979, and he shows up at the alley with the fashion and swagger of Tony Manero, strutting in to high fives, free food, the admiration of crowds of women, and frequent breaks to boogie to “Disco Inferno.” In this world he is God. But after he beats “Big Ern” McCracken (Bill Murray between ED WOOD and LARGER THAN LIFE) for the Odor Eaters Championship the sore loser talks him into going to bowling alleys and hustling the locals like a pool shark. When they get caught, Big Ern leaves him behind with angry marks who avenge him by putting his hand in the ball return (which clearly says “Keep Hands Away”).

Making all kinds of jokes about Roy’s silly rubber hand that’s attached to his hook hand – well, I don’t think you’re supposed to do stuff like that anymore, for good reason. But I laugh every time he tries to show somebody his championship ring and they only look at the hand (or vice versa). Or the way Big Ern ruins a great moment of sportsmanship when Roy shakes his hand and Big Ern pulls it off and throws it into the crowd. “Some lucky fan got a souvenir,” says the commentator obliviously.

Modern viewers might also wince at the jokes about Roy reluctantly having sex with his nasty landlord Mrs. Dumars (Lin Shaye, A NIGHTMARE ON ELM STREET) because he’s behind on rent, but what can I tell you, Shaye makes that hilarious. “Oh stop it, you, it wasn’t that bad,” she says as he’s puking in the toilet afterwards. Then of course there’s the classic line, “What is it about good sex that makes me have to crap? You really jarred something loose, tiger.”

His luck changes when he meets Ishmael (Randy Quaid in by far his best movie of summer ’96), a naive rube who sneaks off from a nearby Amish community to bowl and is very good at it. Roy convinces him it makes sense for a bowler to have a manager, and circumstances fall into place so that he believes God wants him to enter a tournament in Reno to raise money to save his community from foreclosure.

There’s a side villain in Stanley (Rob Moran, QUIET COOL), a rich gambler with his own home bowling lanes. He seems honorable about losing to Ishmael until he realizes Roy didn’t really have the money to pay him if they’d lost the bet. He has more reason for anger after his girlfriend Claudia (Vanessa Angel from the tv version of WEIRD SCIENCE) runs away with Roy and Ishmael (helping by distracting opponents with her hotness).

It follows an underdog sports movie structure but with the perfect set up for absurd jokes like Roy trying to fit in in the Amish community and just trying to wing it. (He’s asked to change the shoes on a horse and uses a saw to do it.) Obviously it has some THE HUSTLER/THE COLOR OF MONEY influence, but I also thought of underground fight movies like HARD TIMES. I like how Moran (who does have bit parts in NAVY SEALS, WEDLOCK and THE COWBOY WAY) seems exactly like a b-action villain with his mansion, tucked-in black turtleneck and long-on-the-back black hair with white streaks.

It has so many jokes that have been burnt into my brain for 30 years:

“Brother Thomas, you know what the Bible says about not forgiving people.”
“Why don’t you tell us all what it says?”
“Well, it’s against it.”

Or Roy’s confusion that people keep using the term “Munsoned” as if it’s a common figure of speech everyone knows.

Whatever their jokes about the sport, the Farrellys gave cameos to two credit screens worth of pro bowlers and commentators. They’re also big on pushing their favorite musicians, so Jonathan Richman is performing in a restaurant, Urge Overkill perform the national anthem, John Popper of Blues Traveler emcees a tournament and he and his band play their song “But Anyway” on the end credits, dressed as Amish people. The needle drops in the movie range from Todd Rundgren to Freedy Johnston to Seattle’s own Super Deluxe. And I believe there are two white ska/pop punk songs, but it’s okay, they work fine.

Although I later saw and enjoyed DUMB AND DUMBER, I had rejected it in 1996, and only went to see this because Murray was in it. I was immediately knocked out by how good it was. (It was later one of the first DVDs I bought, along with BLADE.) Since this was only three years after GROUNDHOG DAY it could hardly be considered a comeback for Murray, but it was near the beginning of a period where he seemed extra interesting, taking on supporting roles like ED WOOD, this, WILD THINGS, RUSHMORE and eventually LOST IN TRANSLATION and COFFEE AND CIGARETTES and that whole sad Bill Murray period. Anyway, he’s great in the movie, using the Murray arrogance and sarcasm for evil, acting like God’s gift to women despite his ridiculous appearance. I like the scene where he asks his waitress to clean off her perfume before she comes back, then asks Roy to go outside to finish his food.

I’ve read that Jim Carrey was the Farrellys’ first choice for Big Ern. I’m glad he did THE CABLE GUY instead. A way better fit.

Though Siskel and Ebert both liked KINGPIN quite a bit, James Berardinelli, Lisa Schwarzbaum and Rita Kempley seem to have hated it (like most reviews from this era, they’re quoted on Rotten Tomatoes and Metacritic, but the links to the actual reviews are broken). That’s okay. That’s what Slam Evil Summer was all about. People caught up on the good shit eventually.