“Good teacher. He really seems to care. About what I have no idea.”

Justin’s Rating: He doesn’t get respect from me, that’s for sure.

Justin’s Review: I’ll confess: I really don’t like Rodney Dangerfield. I never have. He irked me in Caddyshack as a slob who wasn’t a “yeah, you’re pretty cool for a slob” type, but more of a drunken uncle who you really wish you could disown, especially at family gatherings. It’s not that I hate the guy himself, it’s just that when you don’t find a comedian’s particular schtick funny, that pretty much washes out anything he or she does. Kathy Griffin, too. And Sam Kinison (who’s unfortunately also in this movie).

It also doesn’t help that Dangerfield’s trademark bulging eyes make me think of the unfortunate demise of the key villain in Total Recall. I spent half of this film wondering if there was massive decompression happening somewhere nearby and Dangerfield was just putting on a brave face about it.

Yet I’m up for watching this because Back to School is such a “who’s who” of ’80s pop culture that it was hard to avoid. The magical powers of Dangerfield brought together Oingo Boingo, Karate Kid’s Johnny, Ferris Bueller’s Grace, Rocky’s Uncle Paulie and rehab’s Robert Downey Jr. I would be remiss in my extensive coverage of the ’80s if I left this stone unturned, slimy and muddy that it is.

Dangerfield plays Thorny Melon, a huge, rich slob who embodies slackerdom and piggish annoyance. Even with his boorish behavior, everyone save his ex-wife seems to adore him, and he manages to forge a business empire out of a Tall & Fat clothing store chain (yes, because all the overweight folks in the world want to be seen with the “Tall & Fat” label on their clothes, I’m sure). Yet when his son Jason is struggling in college, Thorny does what any parent seeking to forever traumatize their offspring would do – he bribes the university to admit him as a fellow freshman so that he can be his son’s roommate. Surprisingly enough, this doesn’t send Jason off the deep end; he’s kind of cool with it. He’s so desperate for human contact that he doesn’t mind being the only kid on campus with a roommate who once changed his diapers.

Thus begins the chronicles of Thorny’s intrusion into collegiate life, which apparently exists in a fantasy world where his fellow students find him hilarious and the professors strangely tolerant when he keeps acting up in class and performing his stand-up routine. Along the way he seduces a professor, throws a couple parties, gets in a brawl, ticks off the fuddy-duddy dean, and intrudes on his son’s life in any way possible.

While Back to School didn’t pioneer the cliché of college movies, it certainly polishes the template down to a T, with all the prerequisite scenes that you’d expect. Heck, Van Wilder cribbed half its script from this movie – and I kid you not. The only thing that seems wildly out of place is that the big climax of the film comes over the college’s sport obsession: diving. Not football, not basketball, not even women’s junior hockey. Diving. It’s THE sport everyone’s dying to get into, and pretty much the entire campus turns out to watch as skinny white boys in teeny, tiny speedos jump off high boards and bellyflop into the pool. It’s enough to make you tilt your head to the side like a confused puppy.

It’s not a terrible film, by any means – just not that funny. But for that one week in June of 1986 when it ruled over the box office, the culture must have thought differently. Go figure.