Bold claim: John Candy’s legacy isn’t just a collection of laugh‑out‑loud moments – it’s a masterclass in subtle, human‑centered comedy that still fuels actors today. But here’s where it gets controversial: the new Amazon documentary John Candy: I Like Me doesn’t settle for a simple highlight reel; it digs into the man behind the grin, and some viewers will argue it’s too polished to be truly revealing.
The title of the film comes from a surprisingly early scene in the 1987 classic Planes, Trains and Automobiles. In what many fans consider Candy’s signature performance, he plays the affable yet initially annoying traveling salesman Del Griffith, who reluctantly teams up with the uptight Neal (Steve Martin) for a chaotic Thanksgiving road‑trip. After Neal vents his frustrations, Del fires back with a line that has become iconic: “Yeah, you’re right, I talk too much. I also listen too much… I could be a cold‑hearted cynic like you … but I don’t like to hurt people’s feelings. I like me. My wife likes me. My customers like me. I’m the real article. What you see is what you get.” That moment of self‑defense sets the tone for the whole character.
For director Colin Hanks, the son of Tom Hanks and the documentary’s creative force, the challenge wasn’t simply to re‑show that famous clip (though the film does sprinkle in plenty of Planes, Trains and Automobiles footage). Hanks was struck by how often Candy seemed to out‑shine the material he was handed, delivering nuance even in the most throwaway jokes. “I was really taken aback by the subtlety in some of his performances,” Hanks explains. “There are little beats that echo the ‘I like me’ stance in a lot of his other movies. They may not carry the same dramatic weight, but you can see something uniquely his in each one.”
Hanks’s personal connection to Candy runs deep. Not only is he the son of Tom Hanks, who co‑starred with Candy in Splash, but he also grew up alongside Candy’s own children—Chris and Jennifer—who attended the same college (albeit at different times). More importantly, Hanks was a fan from the start. “When I was a kid I was absolutely obsessed with Who’s Harry Crumb?,” he laughs, acknowledging that the critically panned flop is a surprisingly controversial favorite. “There was something deliciously idiotic and perfect about his performance that just made me laugh.” He even tracked down a specific hand‑gesture Candy makes in that film, screen‑captured it, and sent it to his editor, insisting it had to make the final cut.
I Like Me is far from a simple greatest‑hits montage. Hanks wanted to avoid a “Wikipedia‑style” documentary and instead craft a portrait that feels intimate yet expansive. The film weaves together home‑video moments of Candy with his family, rare television interviews that reveal his discomfort with invasive questioning, and a thoughtful look at the psychological forces that drove him—his happy family life, his mounting health concerns, and his lingering self‑image issues. While the documentary acknowledges that Candy wasn’t a comedian tormented by demons, it also doesn’t shy away from the bittersweet aspects of his story.
A parade of celebrity testimonies—Martin Short, Catherine O’Hara, Eugene Levy, Steve Martin, Dan Aykroyd, Conan O’Brien, Tom Hanks, and the elusive Bill Murray—paint a picture of a man whose on‑screen charm stemmed from genuine off‑screen kindness. Murray jokes that he wishes he had more “dirt” to spill than a story about Candy mildly irritating director Sydney Pollack by milking a laugh. Hanks points out an intriguing pattern: of the three “large‑scale” actors who died in their prime, two succumbed to drug overdoses while Candy did not, prompting him to wonder what that says about the pressures of fame.
The documentary also delves into a more somber chapter: Candy lost his own father at the tender age of five. “From a human standpoint that is heart‑wrenching,” Hanks says. “What was it like for him to grow up without a dad, both as a child and later as an adult?” Conversations with Chris and Jennifer revealed that Candy began confronting these wounds in therapy later in life, trying to piece together the parts of himself that shaped his humor and his humanity.
Chris and Jennifer Candy serve as co‑executive producers, eager to help create a definitive portrait of their father. Jennifer notes that celebrity documentaries have evolved, moving away from the exploitative “True Hollywood Story” formula toward more respectful storytelling. I Like Me sometimes flirts with sanitization—certain personal details are glossed over—but it balances this restraint with a genuine celebration of Candy’s craft.
Some of the film’s most joyous moments arise from fans and peers recalling their favorite Candy bits. Conan O’Brien, who met Candy only once as a young writer, gushes about the darkly hilarious SCTV sketch “Yellowbelly.” Hanks admits that curating SCTV clips was the toughest editing challenge: “That sequence could have easily stretched to 40 minutes.”
The Candy children also chime in with their own hidden‑gem recommendations. Jennifer champions the lesser‑known mystery comedy Once Upon a Crime, directed by Candy’s SCTV buddy Eugene Levy. Chris defends Nothing But Trouble, a Dan Aykroyd‑directed romp he describes as “post‑modern Ghostbusters—weird, but a testament to my dad’s willingness to dive into oddball projects.”
Looking back, many of Candy’s more obscure or eccentric films have gained appreciation simply because his talent is so scarce. Hanks says spotting those fleeting nuances—whether in a blockbuster or a forgotten B‑movie—remains “inspiring for me as an actor.” He adds, “It reminds me that even in a scene that seems insignificant, there’s always a chance to find a little spark of truth.”
John Candy: I Like Me lands on Amazon Prime Video on 10 October. What do you think? Does the documentary strike the right balance between tribute and truth, or does it feel too polished for a man as raw‑hearted as Candy? Share your thoughts in the comments—agree, disagree, or add your own favorite Candy moment!**
