Worlds Greatest Dad is a true curiosity, a film I had to sit back and really think about right after I had watched it. It has such a strange arc, and wasn’t the pithy dark comedy I was expecting from the trailers. I mean, it is a pithy dark comedy, just not in the way you’d think at all. I still can’t even figure out if I liked the thing, but it wouldn’t leave my head for a while after, so it certainly has a kick to deliver, one that’s decidedly below the belt. Williams is Lance, a high school English teacher with traces of old world in his methods. He prefers to instruct his students in poetry, which makes him a bit unpopular, sadly. He also has an absolute snot nosed, shithead fuckwit douchebag of a son, played by Spy Kid’s own Daryl Sabara. Think my description of him is too harsh? Nah, son. This kid is a royal asshole of the highest degree, and one wonders what Lance did in a previous life to deserve such evil spawn. He’s a mean, spiteful, discouraging, porn addicted little piss stain, and ironically enough, it’s the spank material that results in his untimely death. I won’t say exactly how it happens, but for those who know what I’m talking about, he and David Carradine share an embarrassing fate. What’s curious is Lance’s reaction upon discovering the body: the kid treated him with nothing but disdain and disregard for years, but he’s still devastated. A father’s love, I suppose. He then writes a passionate suicide note and passes it off as his son’s, to hide the perverse truth. Everyone at the school, in town, even the local newspaper goes ballistic and praises the deceased boy’s work. Suddenly he’s a local hero, a beacon of hope for troubled youth everywhere, and a martyr to spur copies in flying off the shelves. There’s the joke, though. He was pretty much the worst person ever in the world, and now the writing Lance worked so hard on is being not only credited to, but hailed as that of his shitty dead kid. Even in death, one final jab of abuse bites back. Like I said, a very odd turn of events, and definitely like no other dark comedy, or other film, for that matter. When you consider this is a script by irreverent comedian Bobcat Goldthwait, who also directed, it’s easier to understand and appreciate the twisted nature of the story, and the places it goes. Williams is inspired, turning Lance from a sulky mess to a hero behind the curtain, finding his own life in Sabara’s demise, as wrong as that sounds. I guarantee you’ve never seen a film like this, and we probably will never get another just like it.
Despite the miscasting of Reeves and Weisz in the two main roles, Lawrence’s take on Constantine is actually quite entertaining, even more so if you haven’t read the comic book. However, fans of the series will have problems with the major liberties the filmmakers have taken with the characters – especially Constantine and Chas. Like most comic book adaptations, this film only sprinkles certain elements from the source material, just enough to vaguely resemble it while watering it down for mainstream consumption. It’s a shame because in the right hands, Constantine could have been more like Hellboy (2004) instead it’s closer to the flawed, missed opportunity of The Punisher (2004).
Podcasting Them Softly 