Bill and Ted and the Odyssey of Comedic Direction (Patreon)

Don’t worry, Bill and Ted Face The Music works. 

It’s a surprisingly sweet, openhearted movie full of all that good wholesome dad energy that you may be craving in these most heinous of times. But I’ll get into the finer points of that film in a bit. For now, I want to look backward at the whole trilogy, mostly because I’ve spent the last week revisiting them. As it had been awhile since I watched both films and I was curious what the rewatch would uncover. For while I had seen Excellent Adventure many, many times in the past, I honestly hadn’t seen Bogus Journey since the theater! So I was hoping it could hopefully provide some kind of insight into the weird magic or thematic resonance of the series. 

But the magic is no secret.

The Bill and Ted films have endured for a few decades now because of the strength of character. Bill and Ted themselves are iconic protagonists precisely because of they make for uncommon protagonists. They’re good, sweet, well-meaning boys who float through their adventures, largely unfazed by the absurdity of everything before them. Whatever you throw at them, they absorb, as if roping you into their most excellent and partying of ways. And while many of the laughs come from the fact that, well, I would never actually call them dumb (especially given that I’ve stopped calling people that, as the horrors of intelligence are used to characterize so many things that have nothing to do with decency), their lack of certain awareness creates such lovely inversions of expectation. They have that Chauncy Gardener like way of coming at the world. They golden retrievers incarnate. 

But there’s also deep humanity in that lack of pretension. Bill and Ted say what they mean. They react with their hearts on their sleeve. They recognize what is truly bogus. And they’ll embrace anyone before them with open arms, even Death himself. So OF COURSE we should build a future society based on them, duh. And it’s worth nothing that Reeves and Winter helped make them iconic figures not just because they do it all in a funny California Dude voice, but because they really have great comedic timing. And at the center of all three movies, this magic is the guiding light. 

But the big difference of the three films has been the style of comedic direction.

To wit, the direction of Excellent Adventure feels so light on its feet. Not just because it moves at a clip, but because the camera hangs back like most good comedic direction and lets it play out. It doesn’t strive to land jokes, it lets them spill out naturally in the course of back and forth dialogue (turns out “that conversation makes more sense now” can still bring down an entire drive-in). Director Stephen Herek shoots the world of San Dimas as normal suburbia and it lets us see the way that these abnormal figures crash into our world and disrupt it (there’s something inherently funny about Genghis Khan in a shopping mall). And it all culminates in something that still feels effortless, but we know how much care goes into something that seems that way.

Bill and Ted’s Bogus Journey has always been the more divisive entry. I know some people adore it. But on a personal level, it was something I had a little history with. Because Excellent Adventure was one of my favorite movies when I was younger and then when I went to see Journey, I honestly didn’t know how to summarize my reaction better than: “This made me feel weird.” But going back now, I can see the “why” of all that. Some of it is the more tangible weirdness of the storyline. Instead of historical figures we get trips to hell, weird aliens, and lots gross prosthetics. But I also realized that script is still rock solid. is pat. The real core difference is in the direction.

Because with the new first-time director, suddenly the language of Bogus Journey completely changes. It’s not just the shift in aspect ratio, the camera is now using all these wall-eyed wide angle lenses and getting way too close. It’s cutting around with this exaggerated, otherworldly style that feels like a cross between Tim Burton and early MTV. Instead of letting jokes naturally spill out, it’s throwing stylization and zooms on jokes for emphasis (at the same time, it’s letting dead air play in certain jokes because they only seemed to shoot it in one straight forward master instead of having something it could cut between, which feels egregious). Instead of letting weirdness come into reality, it’s making the entire reality of the film feel weird. And the difference in tone is utterly palpable. I get why young me was reacting they way I did. 

But upon revisiting I also think the movie still works through sheer force of will. William Sadler’s Death ironically breathes such life last few acts. And the finale pulls out every charming stop it can muster. Moreover, the weirdness of the film is one of those things that some people can get right on the same wavelength with, for weird movies are an allure all their own. But for me, I really do love the script and performances, but it sort of misses the core cinematic construction of what I think makes Bill and Ted work the funniest way possible.

For better or worse, Bill and Ted Face The Music ends up being a bit of hybrid of both films. Once again, I think the script and performances are the element that shines. You can tell where Winter and Reeves are having so much damn fun. And when I tweeted my reaction, I described the overall effect of the film as adorable and sweet, which led to a prevailing question: “yeah, but is it funny?” Yup! Like most comedies, sometimes it has MONSTER gags (all hail Dennis Caleb McCory) and sometimes bits fall flat (I kind of wish they made a different choice for a conflict with Death this time). But that’s just the way it goes. And once again, the direction remains the X factor in execution. 

Dean Parisot is no stranger to weird comedy (the man did Galaxy Quest for Pete’s sake) but here the film actually seems at it’s most comfortable capturing a few dramatic historical time periods (which I won’t spoil). In terms of camera angles, it thankfully hangs back and lets the jokes play out. It’s trying to capture that same thing of “let’s create normalcy that weird can come into,” but there’s also something a little off in the aesthetic execution of that normal. Some of it is the over-lit white palette of the DI that you can similarly see in the trailers. It just rankles a tad because it just feels like it underwhelms instead of hitting the same visual striking quality of the previous films. And some of the same concern goes right down to the wardrobe choice. A friend even joked about the “normcore” style Keanu seems to sport in the film. But it not only is a part of the “wholesome dad energy” that drives the film, it’s part of the film’s point.

Because I’m hard pressed to think of a third “much-later” entry in a trilogy that so understands the futility of trying to recapture the magic, particularly of youth. And at the same time, I’m hard pressed to think of one that so understands what’s actually the important about being together again and communicating that through the story (instead of merely trying to take advantage of it). It’s so naturally endearing without ever feeling cynical or ironic. Which actually reminds me of a recent interview that Keanu Reeves and Alex Winter did with Colbert. They were being asked about how they’re actually friends (And they are! Reeves even does narration on some of Winter’s great documentary work) and what it’s like when people see them hanging out in the wild. Before there’s even a second to waste, this big happy grin comes over Reeves’ face and he throws his hands in front of him like a big goofball. He then says it plainly… 

“Bill and Ted bring smiles!” 

For all the different ways you can come at it as a director, they do. 

They really, really do.

And I don’t know about you, but I needed one.

<3HULK