The late funnyman and actor John Candy was the mascot of laughter and fun in Hollywood comedies before his unexpected death in 1994.
But Colin Hanks, in directing his feature documentary John Candy: I Like Me for Prime Video, discovered Candy’s comedy genius on camera and off masked private struggles like childhood trauma, anxiety and self-esteem issues that he never fully tackled in his own lifetime.
“The truth of the matter is, the very man that we’re celebrating, who was so sweet, so sincere, so caring, so genuine, those are all traits that developed from coping mechanisms,” Hanks tells The Hollywood Reporter as his feature debuts Friday on Prime Video globally.
Ultimately, what worked for Candy for most of his life to fend off personal ghosts and the pressures of Hollywood fame is what drew Hanks to direct John Candy: I Like Me.
In the below conversation, Hanks opens up about what it took to get him to direct a feature film about John Candy, playing bad guy roles and why he couldn’t imagine making a documentary again without Ryan Reynolds on speed dial to help him out of a creative or logistical hole.
What first drew you to directing John Candy: I Like Me, a film about the late Canadian funnyman and actor?
My producing partner had sort of floated the idea of doing a doc on John, and I kind of dismissed it at first. I was just, I don’t know how to do that. He’s such a nice guy. I don’t know what the angle is, and my plate was a little full at that time and I didn’t quite have the bandwidth.
Then you got a call from Ryan Reynolds.
Basically, he [Reynolds] just called and he was such a fan. He said, “I just can’t believe that there’s not a John Candy documentary out there, and I don’t know if I want to live in a world where one doesn’t exist. But I don’t know what that movie looks like.” And I said, “I agree with you on all of those fronts.” I didn’t disagree there should be a John Candy doc. But I didn’t know how to approach that. We just had a lovely conversation, and I said I needed some time to come up with a theme, with a take. I then went off for about a month, I started doing a bunch of research, and there were two things that really landed super hard for me. The fact that John’s father passed on his fifth birthday when his father was 35. That struck me as an incredibly traumatic thing to go through as a young kid and obviously shaped his entire existence. And then [John’s son] Chris had mentioned that John had really started to suffer from anxiety attacks, panic attacks and started going to therapy to start working on himself. Because all of the things that had been working for him his whole life were all of a sudden no longer helping him. I said that is a film that I want to explore. And it just so happened that it’s also a film about John Candy.
Candy’s backstory — the trauma of his father’s early death, tackling his mental health issues — was hardly talked about, if at all, during the 1970s and 80s, but those issues are openly discussed today. Did that dichotomy factor into your decision to direct the documentary?
The truth of the matter is, the very man that we’re celebrating, who was so sweet, so sincere, so caring, so genuine, those are all traits that developed from coping mechanisms. Those are all traits that he learned at a very, very young age, living in a house with his mom and his aunt and his brother — essentially his entire family but not his father. And so one of their coping mechanisms was you invite a bunch of people over, you have a lot of food, yes, drinks, you have a good time. And that’s not bad. That’s a very human instinct. But it instilled in him something that, in one regard we’re celebrating, and then in another regard ended up being the thing that kind of was no longer working for him. In that time, therapy was hardly discussed, definitely not in the 1960s and 1970s. Maybe a little bit more in the 1980s. But those were what people would call serious uptown problems. You were lucky if you were able to talk about your problems. A lot of people we spoke to for the film said I don’t know anything about that. We just don’t talk about that stuff.
The documentary also shows people, especially during media interviews, being very insensitive to Candy’s issues, especially his struggles with obesity, and saying so to his face.
No, it just wouldn’t fly at all today. And if you’re observant; he’s uncomfortable. Towards the end, he sort of deals with it, a little bit more head on as he sort of deflects and stands up for himself, while still being polite and being kind. But I was really taken aback by how uncomfortable he was in interviews, because he knows it’s coming. He knows that question is coming, knows they’re going to bring it up, because they always do. That societal change I thought was really, really interesting, and something that I wanted to show in the film.
You mentioned a call from Ryan Reynolds convincing you to take on the project. Talk about Reynolds during the production convincing so many other people to agree to discuss John Candy on camera.
I don’t think the film exists without Ryan willing it to exist. It really all stems from his passion and love for John. It really is incredibly genuine. Look, Ryan is great at selling things, everyone knows that about him. And he also was passionate. I was so bogged down in schedule and trying to be cognizant of the running time of the movie and what we need and what we have, and do we have too much? Because I learned very early on in my career there is nothing more uncomfortable for a director than to interview someone for a documentary and then to have to tell them they’re not in the film. So Ryan had the know-how and the clout to be able to hound Bill Murray for God knows how long to be able to get him. And Dan Aykroyd was very kind and recorded the eulogy he gave John. Ryan then pushed really hard to get an interview with him as well. And Macaulay (Culkin) was hesitant at first because, again, I never lose sight of the fact that these are real human beings. Sure, they’re celebrities. But let’s not forget we are asking them to talk about and remember a friend of theirs that they have feelings about. And some of those feelings, who knows what they may be, could be conflicted. So now I don’t know how I’m going to make another documentary without having Ryan Reynolds on speed dial so I can say, “Hey, can you help me out here?”
What did you learn as a director making this documentary that you will take with you to future projects?
You learn a little bit with every movie. Sometimes it’s what’s what to do, sometimes it’s what not to do. I think with this film, I was able to refine and really start to have a better understanding of the focus it takes to do these interviews. They can actually be pretty exhausting at times for me. But I go to great lengths to try and make it a positive experience for the people that I’m speaking with. I wanted it to feel like a conversation to them, that it was something that was actually fun or cathartic, or, you know, a healthy thing. I don’t want it to be something that they may feel like uncomfortable over, so I definitely worked on that. And I’m just constantly reminded about just what a team effort this is. This is definitely the biggest film that we’ve done so far.
What was it like to interview often comics and actors who usually work to a script, and to have them speak without one on camera?
The thing I found kind of fascinating was I was connecting with them as human beings. Again, they’re just people talking about their friend, John. But they do have an ability, each one of them, to be able to convey emotion, sadness and strength with their words. Sometimes with docs, particularly, you speaking to people that are never interviewed, ever, especially on camera. You have to take time to put people at ease. But on this doc, they understand and are open to those emotions, all actors are to a degree. They’re able to convey those things and do so in a way that is succinct and lands and has resonance.
Your next project to direct will be another documentary or scripted?
So we’ve got a couple of other documentary projects we’re developing right now that hopefully we’ll be starting work on soon. And I’m looking at various scripted narrative pictures as well. That’s definitely something I’m interested in doing. I’m really just sort of waiting and seeing what’s available, because those are rather large time commitments. And then I still wear makeup and pretend to be other people for a living.
On the acting front, you play a corrupt sheriff opposite Bob Odenkirk’s mild-mannered family man/assassin role in Nobody 2. You enjoyed playing a bad guy after so many memorable good guy roles?
Yes, Bob Odenkirk reached out and I worked with him on Fargo. We both played nice guy cops. And he said, “Hey, I got a bad cop. He’s a dirty cop. And I really want to see you do something different.” And I think Bob is paying it forward a little bit. He was always playing the nice guy. And then Better Call Saul came around. And Nobody in particular came around. So I got to go off and basically play a dirty cop and be intimidating and be frightening and it was a blast. I had so much fun with Bob. And it was a real treat being part of a big action movie.
And in Nuremberg, you play Dr. Gustave M. Gilbert, who served as a prison psychologist during the Nuremberg war trials. So he’s not a bad guy per se, but you’re among the baddest of bad guys in Nazis.
Well, what I loved about that particular role was technically, he’s not a bad guy, like all of the other Nazis in the film, But he’s definitely not a good guy that is making things easier. I play almost an antagonist to Rami Malik’s character and really makes things a lot more difficult and doesn’t necessarily see eye to eye with Rami. Although it’s supporting role, there was a little bit of complexity there that I really enjoyed. And I just jumped at the opportunity, because I’ve known Rami a long time, and it was a real treat to finally get to do something with him.
Is the idea that bad guy characters are potentially more complex than good guy characters appealing to you as an actor?
It can be liberating. I really enjoy trying to present the bad guy’s reasons or views and find a way to consider them reasonable. You know, it was the thing that I loved about playing (Barry) Lapidus in The Offer. Here’s the one guy that doesn’t want to make The Godfather. Everyone else is, come on, let’s do it. It’s going to be great. And I’m the guy saying, this is a horrible idea. This is a massive mistake. And I like that I was able to be the dissenting voice but with legitimate concerns. You never want to judge a book by its cover. And I think it’s fun when you’re able to show that complexity on the inside of the character and what makes them tick. You have to break down what their reasoning is. You need to understand that so that you believe it. Otherwise, as a performer, it’s just words and you’re just phoning it in. You never want to do that.
You talk about being able to play a good cop on Fargo and a bad cop on Nobody 2. Getting back to John Candy. He died at a young age, before he could fully branch out from comedy into more serious roles and more bad guy characters. Should John Candy fans feel cheated they have been denied that legacy?
Yes, because I feel he definitely would have gone in that direction. And I think he would have straddled both very well. He would have gone back and forth between the two, I really do. And that’s just because of his nature and who he was, and the kind of person that he was. He wouldn’t have just gone dramatic and then kept it there. But he was definitely headed there. He did that character in JFK. That an indicator he was going that way. I know for a fact he did do some screen tests and costume tests for Goodfellas. Which I thought was fascinating. I know that’s got the script for Pulp Fiction. I don’t know what kind of films that he would have done, just based on his beliefs and the kinds of things that he wanted to portray. But I have no doubt that he would have branched out into more dramatic fare.