How can one encapsulate the essence of John Candy’s work in a single film? The Canadian comic, who initially mesmerized TV viewers on SCTV, featured in many uproarious and touching films such as Splash, Uncle Buck, Planes, Trains, and Automobiles, The Great Outdoors, and Cool Runnings. He was a cherished comedy icon both on and off the screen.

John Candy: I Like Me strives to explore his life through a montage of clips from Candy’s films and television appearances, paired with interviews from his family and notable friends like Bill Murray, Dan Aykroyd, Martin Short, Eugene Levy, Catherine O’Hara, Mel Brooks, Macaulay Culkin, and Tom Hanks. This documentary is notably directed by Hanks’ son, Colin Hanks, and produced by Canadian actor Ryan Reynolds. Despite the star power and Hanks’ personal affiliation with the subject, John Candy: I Like Me falls short in depth.

While Candy’s narrative unfolds, Colin Hanks, who previously directed the documentary Eagles of Death Metal: Nos Amis (Our Friends), shows little vision in this instance. As a result, the film seems like a faint imitation of the man who inspired it.

Nevertheless, John Candy: I Like Me may be a necessary watch for comedy enthusiasts. Candy’s passing in 1994, at the age of 43, reverberated through Canada and beyond. He was a comedy legend, adored not just for the laughter he provided but for the remarkable warmth he exhibited onscreen. Personally, watching Candy gave me a feeling of safety.

Whether he was contending with an inquisitive Culkin in Uncle Buck, devouring a gigantic steak in The Great Outdoors, or rallying behind the Jamaican bobsled team in Cool Runnings, his humor created a haven of comfort and delight. I was a child when he passed away, and I remember sobbing because I felt an attachment to him. He felt like a part of my life. That was a gift Candy extended to his audiences. He appeared as an open book, and we were eager to read every page.

John Candy: I Like Me exposes the sorrow behind his cheerful facade, much of it rooted in the comedian’s unresolved pain from his father’s passing on Candy’s fifth birthday. His widow Rosemary Hobor, his children Christopher and Jennifer, and his closest friends discuss how this early loss shaped Candy’s life. However, Hanks struggles to construct a unified narrative of this tug-of-war between grief and joy. Instead, the film unfolds in segments that hop around in Candy’s life. While informative, this fragmented structure and rigid approach lack the vibrancy of Candy.

Comedy aficionados keen to discover more about this legendary figure will find worth in it, but they should temper their expectations.

Colin Hanks displays a lack of focus in John Candy: I Like Me.

The documentary is filled with intriguing information. SCTV alumni such as Levy, Short, O’Hara, and Dave Thomas fondly reminisce about Candy’s early comedic beginnings when he earned the nickname “Johnny Toronto” for his bravado. Thomas recounts a tale about Candy renting a stretch limo to appear as a big shot, even when his bills were overdue. Murray shares another story about the hilariously extravagant home decor Candy accidentally committed to during his formative years. These anecdotes are delightful, enlightening, and unveil a side of Candy that audiences were not privy to. Regrettably, they are too infrequent.

The film often turns into a relentless parade of individuals offering the same generalized praises without specific narratives. Beyond feeling repetitive, this method evokes a mournful eulogy. This somber tone initiates with footage from Candy’s funeral and Aykroyd’s actual eulogy delivered as a solemn voiceover. It’s a stark reminder that everything that follows leads to an untimely, tragic end. A shadow looms over the accolades, leaving me wishing Hanks had probed deeper.

For example, numerous people mention that Candy aimed to ensure a positive experience for everyone on set, both cast and crew. Why not share particular instances? Locate a crew member who, years later, can recount a moment when Candy made a connection with them? It’s not that I doubt these co-stars and colleagues, but Hanks frequently hitches onto vague reflections instead of engaging storytelling.

John Candy: I Like More shines brightest when Candy takes center stage.

The most revealing aspects of the documentary are archival interviews where Candy voices his sentiments. Thoughtless reporters pose fatphobic inquiries about his weight, and you can detect the hurt in his gaze. Candy’s spouse mentions that his doctors advised him to shed some pounds, but Hollywood agents warned that a weight reduction could jeopardize his career.

This intriguing topic revolves around how show business both aided and hindered this star. However, Hanks merely skims the surface, redirecting focus to Candy’s paternal grief and coping strategies of overeating, drinking, and smoking. Instead of weaving a complex portrait of the comedian, these segments feel like a haphazard quilt, awkwardly stitched together. Then, as implied by the title, Hanks