Years ago when this flick first came out I was dubious, because of the presence of John Candy, whose great popularity I still am at a loss to explain. I recently read a reference somewhere to this flick as worth seeing, so I went for it, 23 years late. After seeing it, I am happy to know my original instincts were correct. "Marty" this ain't, and Candy is no Borgnine. And why, oh why, did Maureen O'Hara choose this as her farewell vehicle? The script makes her a domineering, racist, obnoxious, rude, and thoroughly nasty person, and any attempts with her acting to tone this down are in vain. This is not billed as an outright comedy, in which naturalness can be discarded, so we have some expectation that the characters will interact in someway at least half believable. O'Hara's character is so vile that it is impossible to believe that her son would not have left her long ago, preferably after burying her in the cellar. I like Jim Belushi, but as a previous viewer said, his contribution here is minimal. As far as character development, we are asked to believe that Candy's girl friend goes from docile and practically mute to a stand-up-for-me character just about overnight. It doesn't wash. The best thing here is Anthony Quinn, who, in his minor role, plays it perfectly.
I should have gone with my instincts 23 years ago and let this dog lie.
I should have gone with my instincts 23 years ago and let this dog lie.