A ★★½ review of The Vagrant (1992) (original) (raw)

Remobo’s review published on Letterboxd:

Boy, Mel Brooks could not catch a break in the early 90's. 1991's "Life Stinks" was a MASSIVE bomb, and the signal of the end of a damn good run. "Robin Hood: Men in Tights" had made a blip at the box office, but would gain it's fame in later years, and "Dracula: Dead and Loving It"...well, no one wants that movie, ever. His past producing credits ("The Elephant Man" and "Frances") had garnered some award attention, so I'm certain the perennial funny man felt a long winter ahead, and decided to take a shot on a fun little horror/comedy script full of wacky characters and situations that were a little darker than his normal fare called "The Vagrant".

We'll always have "Young Frankenstein" and "Blazing Saddles", Mel.

For the first hour, I was totally enamored. Well, enamored and confused. I was flabbergasted that this movie had gotten by me. This type of film was right in my wheelhouse when it came out. A weird, little tale with that turn of the decade/Tim Burton/Tales from the Crypt/Addams Family sense of tongue in cheek humor and suburban Gothic aesthetic; full of dutch angles and extreme close ups of Bill Paxton, mugging and grimacing like a proto-Jim Carrey. A script full of social norm potshots that smelled a bit like the same direction John Waters' films of the same time were taking. The beautiful and funny Colleen Camp, in mid-transition from comedy bombshell in "Clue" and the Police Academy movies to Everywoman character actor extraordinaire. Where had this movie been all my life?

Turns out, it was hidden in obscurity, right where it should have been. I had a fun first half of trying to figure out the Twilight Zone-ish twist that lay ahead of me, all the while enjoying the constant parade of exaggerated character-types. I especially enjoyed Jimmy Olsen as the pink flip-flop wearing best friend, trying to keep Paxton's manic energy in check and Michael Ironside as the cop who's here to do two things: chew scenes and chew scenes (yet his belabored assistant still manages to have some shining moments, himself). Veteran 80's comedic water carriers Stuart Pankin and Patrika Darbo also make "HEY! It's that person!" appearances, almost dating the movie just with the cast list alone.

But that massive killer's row is only there to support the true stars in Paxton and Marshall Bell (as the titular Vagrant) who do their level best until the script starts to give up on them. All of my projecting of future plot lines couldn't have conceived of the lame ending I got, which became a convoluted mess that wavered back and forth between "is it all in his head?" and some sort of Mulleted Frankenstein/Fight Club story that I sighed my way through until it was just...over.

When that light switch outlet cover went missing, I was on the edge of my seat. How cool would it be if the vagrant started slowly stealing pieces of the home...absconding with them into the night. Like the peeing, Paxton never able to prove to anyone that it was happening as there are no witnesses and the items being taken are too small to be considered "crime". Paxton starts to slowly be driven insane, unable to convince anyone that something nefarious is going on, as the disappearances become more and more obvious to him. Somewhere across town...a small home is being built. A nice home,where somehow there is a picket fence and a flower bed. Almost as if the home is building itself...all on it's own. A crane shot pulls back to reveal a disheveled and rambling Bill Paxton. Stumbling around, trying to tell anyone that will listen about the slowly disappearing house he used to live in....

Now that's the movie I watch in my dreams while a homeless man fucks my fiancee.

Watched with the COLLAB!...without whom I would probably be homeless...