he Farrelly Brothers’ films have a reputation for being crude and tasteless, especially on their early films, but within this filmography full of black and stupid humor, hides a soul that has perhaps gone unnoticed. Their films always have a happy ending, in one way or another, and except for their early films, a positive moral, focused on love, family, and inclusion, that bring humor and light-heartedness.
The Farrelly brothers’ first film, Dumb and Dumber (1994) has Bobby acting as screenwriter, and Peter as director. Probably the best of them all. At least, the most iconic, a masterpiece of idiotic humor. Legend has it that the Farrellys had no idea how to direct a movie and that they only intended to take charge of the script, but by a series of coincidences or fortunate misunderstandings they ended up directing it with the collaboration and help of the technical team, who advised them.
The success of the film gave rise to a whole new way of making humorous films under seperate rules, under new coordinates. In part, the novelty had to do with the subtle way in which the directors made fun of their characters and, by extension, of themselves. The Farrelly’s humor is fresh without really being novel, it works as a sort of distillate of old traditions such as slapstick, physical humor, with a dose of satire, parody, absurdity, not afraid of scatological humor, politically incorrect but equally inoffensive, which relies on a preset, studied script, without excluding the potential of improvisation and spontaneity.
The film would not be what it is without Jim Carrey’s unparalleled histrionic display. For some, his exaggerated gestures are irritating, for others, an absolute genius. The truth is that this is a unique actor who, at the time, was giving his best, or at least the best of that facet of his gestural plasticity that created a style, which has become part of a cultural legacy that overflows it. Although less visible, less commented, even less remunerated financially, Jeff Daniels’ work is not negligible and provides a counterweight to Jim Carrey that helps him to support himself better.
A curious thing happens with this film: people either like it or dislike it from the very start. If it dislikes, no amount of explanation or ensemble analysis will be able to remedy it. If it is liked, it is compulsively loved. It makes you want to watch and re-watch many of its scenes, it is a film that doesn’t wear out. It can be seen once a year for decades, without the jokes losing their humor, without the film losing interest. Another curious thing happens with this film: almost nobody remembers the plot, even after having seen it several times. Probably because the plot is just an excuse to give the characters freedom of movement.
Lloyd Christmas (Jim Carrey) and Harry Dunne (Jeff Daniels) turn out to be more complex characters than they seem. Behind the masks of their innocence bordering on pathological infantilism, one discovers homoerotic tensions and death drives, an undoubted obsessive neurosis expressed in an absurd sexuality, full of repression and desire, as well as a self-destructive behavior that makes gratuitous violence and thoughtless impulses a way of being, perverse and polymorphous.
The thinly veiled psychoanalytic melodrama will have a correlate in the second part of the film, from 2014, which starts in a psychiatric institution where Lloyd Christmas has been locked up for twenty long years. But that’s another story.
Although the plot of Dumb and Dumber is the least interesting thing about the film, it’s a cop story traversed by a pair of pathetic, hillbilly characters, through which the genre is ironized, which fits with the Coen brothers’ imagery, and it turns out that Fargo is curiously simultaneous to Kingpin (1996), of which The Big Lebowski (1998) seems a sort of adult rewrite or reversion. In all cases, the stories are traversed by characters on the borderline of believability, extravagant, histrionic, hillbilly and folksy, who find themselves involved in situations typical of the police genre, which exceed them. In the case of Kingpin, there is even a thematic nexus: bowlers and their particular underworld and fauna.
Roy Munson (Woody Harrelson) is an extraordinary bowler who comes from a humble family, who hopes to get ahead thanks to his talent. The future is bright, until a mistake costs him his career. He teams up with Ernie McCracken (Bill Murray) to swindle some hicks who have no better idea than to cause irreparable damage to one of his hands, putting him out of the competition forever. From then on, the film focuses on Roy Munson’s life, which goes from bad to worse, economic hardship, alcoholism, abulia and despair. Everything changes with the appearance of Ishmael (Randy Quaid), an Amish bowler whose lack of professional pretension is inversely proportional to his talent. The possibility of becoming his coach and taking him to compete in the big leagues gives hope to Roy Munson, who seems to be reborn to a second life.
Kingpin is a very good movie, that’s all. The Farrellys made a tremendous qualitative leap with respect to their previous film, although in terms of box office they barely recovered the investment. It is logical, because the public at the time was looking for the directors to repeat the formula and, instead, they offered a different story, with better constructed characters, tragic elements, and an atypical author’s vision, where the sense of the ridiculous acquires compassionate glimpses (which reminds us a little of Christopher Guest’s films, with pathetic characters that become endearing and lovable).
The plot, as it happens with Dumb and Dumber (and as it happens with the Coens’ films) includes elements of the police genre and, although at times it can get a little sordid, it is still a film crossed by absurd humor, which gives the whole an originality and a specific tone that they did not repeat in the rest of their filmography. Kingpin is possibly one of their best films.
In terms of box office, Kingpin barely recovered the investment. The Farrelly Brothers decided not to take risks and their third film was, in fact, the most successful of all. Just as Jim Carrey was key and determinant for the success of Dumb and Dumber, in There’s Something About Mary (1998) the same happens with respect to the leading couple, Ben Stiller and Cameron Diaz. The cinematic pretensions were replaced by effective gags and the whole film is constructed with the sole purpose of entertaining. It is a rustproof, bulletproof film. The typical movie that never disappoints if you want to spend a moment of total relaxation.
The entire plot fits in one line: the protagonist could never forget the love of his early youth, so he decides to hire a private detective to find her. Basically, that’s it. Then the plot thickens, when the private eye (spectacular Matt Dillon) falls in love and a sort of conspiracy of schemers revolving around the object of desire is uncovered, and so on. But, basically it is a film without a plot, a succession of gags, and funny and effective episodes. The film also includes some curious formal tricks such as the use of diegetic music and a voiceover narrator, which have no other purpose than to highlight or underline the artificiality exposed, which refers and recalls the musical cinema of the 30’s and a certain idea of theatricality and spectacle. Of course, the scene with Mary’s hair, who has mistaken semen for gel, has become an icon of popular culture. Politically incorrect and infallible humor.
If there is a cinematic ideology in the Farrelly Brothers’ production of the early years, it could be the dissolution of plausibility and realism in favor of a fiction that does not refer to the world as we know it, but to a certain general idea of the marvelous. From this perspective, Me, Myself & Irene (2000) is a logical consequence, a progression of There’s Something About Mary. The artifice is exposed and dissolved, offering a film that pivots on the absurd and the surreal. The plot is capricious, complex, incomprehensible and accessory. The only thing that makes sense is the backstory: a sort of updating of the Dr. Jeckyll and Mr. Hyde myth.
Jim Carrey is Charlie, a good-natured policeman who, after having suffered countless humiliations and frustrations, one day has a psychotic break and develops a split personality. When he is assigned to escort Irene (Renée Zellweger), accused of a misdemeanor, to another district, Charlie interrupts the medication that managed to control his split personality and the mission that seemed simple is complicated to unsuspected limits.
The film took the box office by storm, offering more of the same, but better. The machinery was oiled up and in top form. Scatological humor, political incorrectness, effective gags, accumulation and succession of crazy and funny scenes. Probably the best opportunity Jim Carrey had to demonstrate his unbridled gestures, his unique and extravagant plasticity.
After a succession of hits, came Osmosis Jones (2001), the first setback in the Farrelly’s career. The film was an absolute flop that resulted in million-dollar losses. It combines live action and animation, but fails on both levels. Neither of the two intertwined stories has much appeal. The general idea is interesting, but it is resolved in a dull and boring manner. Frank DeTorri (Bill Murray), a zoo animal keeper, eats a bad hard-boiled egg that introduces a lethal virus into his body. Similar to what happened in Innerspace (Joe Dante, 1987), but with less grace, the viewer observes the internal battle in Frank’s body, the way the virus affects his organism and how a white blood cell (named Osmosis Jones, played by Chris Rock) teams up with a Drixenol pill (David Pierce) to fight the virus (played by Laurence Fishburne).
The film falls somewhere in the middle of everything. Too adult to be a kids film, too childish to be for adults. Too pedagogical for fiction, too fanciful to be pedagogical. It didn’t completely satisfy any audience, any audience. The general idea is clever but poorly resolved. Despite its hour and a half running time, it is long and tedious. It’s visually appealing and the characters are likable, but that’s about it.
It is neither the highest grossing (although it was an undoubted success), nor the best of their films (although it is an excellent comedy), but Shallow Hal (2001) marks a new approach in the Farrelly’s filmography. From this point on, their films incorporate elements of melodrama and abandon the pure enjoyment of the absurd in favor of certain ambitions linked to classical narrative. From this point on, their films are less nonsensical and better constructed from the plot point of view, relying on the structures of romantic cinema and melodrama, without abandoning the peculiar humor that characterizes them. Shallow Hal (and all those that will follow) are undoubtedly funny films, but they sneak in a certain ideology, in many cases even including a certain moral or life lesson. A constant that will come up again and again.
They still seem as silly as they always were but they are no longer so. The Farrellys underwent a transition from childhood to adulthood, resuming the ambition begun and abandoned with Kingpin, whose successful artistic pursuit was perhaps premature. In this case, we have Hal Larson (Jack Black), a narcissistic and frivolous boy obsessed with women’s physical appearance (though not his own). From an element of the magical and marvelous (a sort of hypnotic spell), Hal Larson will begin to see people according to their inner beauty. He falls in love with Rosemary (Gwyneth Paltrow), accustomed to being rejected by men because of her overweight, and who happens to be his boss’ daughter.
Hal Larson falls in love with Rosemary, whom he seduces, thus also getting a promotion. Hal Larson lives an idyll, but also a deception. Without intending to, the film poses a moral dilemma: Is it better to live happily but deceived, or to see things as they are, even if they are not entirely satisfactory? The film resolves the dilemma in good faith, in an idealistic and utopian way. To wit: it would be best to see things as they are and fall in love with them. In a secondary way, the film is also a manifesto on the canons of beauty, overweight, the traps and lies of deception and self-deception. Once again, a film more intelligent than it appears.
Starting from an improbable initial situation, Stuck on You (2003) serves as an excuse to talk about many things. The value of friendship, love, professional success, family, etc. As with Kingpin, it’s a classic structure: start at the bottom and work your way up to the top and what happens thereafter. Bob (Matt Damon) and Walt (Greg Kinnear) are a pair of Siamese twins joined at the waist. They share the same liver, so they haven’t had the courage to undergo surgery to separate. The chances of Walt dying are 50%. They have lived their whole lives this way and have managed quite well, until Walt wants to try an acting career in Hollywood which, against all odds, manages to take off thanks to a strategic error articulated by the actress Cher (played by herself), which catapults them to fame.
Stuck on You is not a great movie, but it is watchable. It has an excellent soundtrack, the story is entertaining, it has beautiful supporting characters (with an imposing Eva Mendes) and it serves as an example of the new direction that the Farrelly’s cinema has taken. An altruistic cinema in its own way, which seems to be slyly fighting for the abolition of prejudice.
In case there was any doubt about the maturation of the Farrelly’s cinema, Fever Pitch (2005) ventures into the subgenre of literary adaptations. In this case, from the cult novel Fever in the Bleachers, by the excellent British author Nick Hornby. Again, a very watchable romantic comedy that seems sillier, simpler, more harmless and inconsequential than it actually is. Again, a film that manages to traffic a certain altruistic ideology, in favor of love, the encounter with the other, psychological maturation, and sentimental education.
In this case, we meet Ben (Jimmy Fallon), a sports fanatic, obsessed with the Boston Red Sox, the baseball team he has followed fervently since he was a teenager. One day Ben meets Lindsay (Drew Barrymore), with whom he falls in love. The couple will live their romance, going through happy moments with reasonable ups and downs, until Ben’s passion for the sport becomes a real problem, difficult to solve.
Everything in the film is narrated in the tone of a light comedy, despite posing problems of some complexity. Romantic passion is confused with passion for sports, which, in certain cases, is indistinguishable from religious passion. How is it possible to coexist or achieve consensus when interests clash? To what extent is a partnership with the other possible, or to what extent is it valid to sacrifice or renounce certain practices or rites that define identities? The ending is optimistic, gratifying. Fever Pitch is a film that inevitably puts us in a good mood. As a colorful fact, the filming of the movie coincided with the Red Sox’s first World Series victory after a no-winning streak of eighty-six years, which the filmmakers took advantage of, and altered the ending by changing the original planned script.
The Heartbreak Kid (2007) is one of the great films by the Farrelly Brothers that, although it did well at the box office, over the years has been relegated from the canon. With a new incursion of Ben Stiller as the protagonist, this time as Eddie Cantrow, owner of a sporting goods store who is going through a midlife crisis. Eddie Cantrow has no partner and is frustrated by his bachelorhood. One day he meets Lila (Malin Akerman) by chance and everything is going well, until Lila has to take a long trip abroad for alleged work-related reasons. Eddie Cantrow discovers a way to avoid that trip: by marrying Lila. The marriage is premature and unfortunate and everything starts to go wrong from the honeymoon. The way the Farrellys portray the gradual decay, the disenchantment, is off the charts. Every single one of those scenes is absolutely fantastic. The endearments and cuddles that turn awkward, the passive-aggressive diplomatic situations, the casual arguments that veer from harmless to offensive in just a second, the patience and tolerance on the edge of bearable.
There will be a plot twist when Eddie Cantrow, in the middle of his honeymoon, meets Miranda (Michelle Monaghan) with whom he turns out to be a better couple. From then on, the film begins to narrate this idyll or conflictive and difficult relationship, changing its register. The first half of the film is much funnier and more effective. The second half is somewhat less interesting, although equally easy to watch. It is possible that, from the plot, the film is not entirely well resolved, but you end up watching it with a smile on your face. The ending is both wickedly clever and great.
The plot excuse of Hall Pass (2011) on which the plot revolves could have been a bombshell for the American establishment, putting its finger on an open sore spot; family values, monogamy, physical attractiveness and a long etcétera. Instead, the film is rather tepid, bland and inconsistent. While The Heartbreak Kid isn’t a perfect film either, Hall Pass doesn’t present any interesting new features and could be considered a career setback. The idea that two friends, Rick (Owen Wilson) and Fred (Jason Sudeikis) can enjoy a week of total freedom, with the approval or consensus of their wives, could have led to a lot of controversial situations, but the film doesn’t risk too much.
Of course, there’s an endearing sense of humor in associating adulthood and the characteristic signs of middle age as the opposite of screw and bust, but the joke wears thin quickly, and the film, with enormous potential to become insidious, becomes pandering. It’s still an easy movie to watch, likable, more promising than it turns out to be. In its best moments, it persuades us that it could have been as good as Hangover (Todd Phillips, 2009), with which it shares some plot similarities, but falls sadly halfway short.
At some point, The Three Stooges (2012) is the Farrelly Brothers’ film-manifesto, where they confirm the source of their main influences and roots, the humor of The Three Stooges and, by extension, physical comedy, and the logic-illogic of cartoons. The film is interesting for several reasons. It is a tribute to the original series, but it also functions as an appropriation and reformulation in its own right. It is articulated in an episodic manner like the classic television series and the sum of its three episodes form a whole in which the plot unfolds.
The film opens with the childhood of the main characters, Curly, Larry and Moe, in an orphanage, which they will try to save from bankruptcy when they become adults. The first two episodes are timeless, anachronistic, they could belong to the original TV series in an alternate universe. In contrast, the third episode incorporates current elements, involving Moe (Chris Diamantopoulos) in a reality show.
The film was not understood then and still continues to generate controversy. It is an homage or tribute to the original series, but it is also something else, obfuscating purists who mistake it for a remake. In reality, it is a complex film that retakes the original characters but relocates them in a time and space that do not belong to them, generating unexpected and extravagant situations, with irregular fortune. The first two episodes work much better than the third. The acting is effective. The recreation is successful. Some gags can be embarrassing, but it is intentional.
Indebted to the films of Jerry Lewis and the Marx Brothers, the intention is to generate discomfort in the viewer by excluding the plausibility. Everything is grotesque, absurd, creaky and senseless. Exactly like, at best, the Farrelly Brothers’ films. We now know that Lloyd Christmas’ haircut is inspired by Moe and that the wackiest situations, the most irreverent episodes, are strongly anchored in the Looney Tunes mystique.
The first half hour of Dumb and dumber to (2014), the sequel to Dumb and Dumber, is as good as the best of their filmography, but progressively becomes a fatally stilted, exhausting film. It is interesting that they have reunited the same cast, repeating some of the important points of the plot and the same scenarios, so that the film is also a sort of tribute that the Farrelly’s make to themselves.
It all begins when Harry Dunne visits his friend Lloyd Christmas, confined in a psychiatric institution after the heartbreak he suffered in the first film. Twenty long years have passed since then (in fiction and in reality). At some point, Lloyd Christmas confesses that he does not need the attention dispensed and is just fooling around, playing a joke.
For his part, Harry Dunne needs a kidney transplant or his life will be in danger. His first intention is to ask his parents for help, but at the wrong time he discovers that he is adopted. He then tries to find his biological parents, only to discover that he has a daughter, with whom Lloyd Christmas is morbidly in love.
While in Dumb and Dumber the plot was an excuse to give free rein to the characters and accumulate effective gags, in this second part, the plot is complex, convoluted, and too calculated. It should be a virtue, but it is a flaw. What was once spontaneous, becomes schematic, each scene is meticulously crafted to fit within the logic of the film and please as many viewers as possible, you can see the intention of not disappointing them, but you can not please everyone and, in the end, you see the pendulous threads, and the stitches.
Overall, the film is equally funny and contains some frankly great scenes, but it seems articulated on an unhealthy intention that is not even of a commercial nature, as if the Farrelly brothers were trying to prove to themselves that they live up to the myth they themselves created. The same is true for the lead actors, who are very solid, in spite of everything.
On the last two films the Farrelly Brothers made together, they seemed to have reached a kind of exhaustion. In fact, what they have exhausted is the formula, as if the only thing left to do was homage and self-homage. On the contrary, they express talent and creativity under other coordinates. In 2017, along with Bobby Mort, Peter Farrelly created the series Loudermilk, about a retired rock critic who runs a support group for addicts, that ran for three seasons with a certain degree of cult status. In 2018, Peter Farrelly single-handedly directed Green Book, an excellent film, which has been nominated for the best and most important awards and accolades. Not to be outdone. Inspired by the life of jazz musician Don Shirley, it is far from being a biopic, becoming a plea for friendship, with touches of drama and comedy, necessarily touching.
In 2022, also solo, Peter Farrelly wrote and directed The Greatest Beer Run Ever, another film inspired by real events, starring Zac Efrom and Russell Crowe, about the unlikely and extravagant case of a civilian who, mistaken for a CIA agent, managed to intermingle in the Vietnam War, just to say hello to his old neighborhood friends. The film is great, an undiscovered gem, reminiscent of both The Year Of Living Dangerously (Peter Weir, 1982) and Apocalypse Now (Francis Ford Coppola, 1979).
In 2023, Bobby Farrelly directed his first solo film, Champions, a reversal of Javier Fesser’s 2018 Spanish film. It is an endearing comedy about a basketball group with intellectual disabilities. Starring Woody Harrelson, same as Kingpin, with which it shares certain points in common. The competition, the pathetic characters and radical losers (he becomes a coach as part of a community outreach program for being drunk at the wheel). The film is emotional without being sappy, with a solid plot and unforgettable characters.
Finally, in 2024, Peter Farrelly wrote and directed Ricky Stanicky, starring John Cena, a no-holds-barred comedy, a return to the filmmaking he and his brother were able to trademark. The film can be watched with a smile from beginning to end and includes at least one scene (starring William Macy) that is among the most hilarious in the history of cinema.
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