My Fellow Americans – Review

My Fellow Americans

With Jack Lemmon, James Garner, Dan Aykroyd
Directed by Peter Segal
Written by E. Jack Kaplan and Richard Chapman (Warner Bros.)
by Rich Romaine

Two great comic actors star in this timeless comedy about life after the big house. Former free-world leaders – the cheapskate, stick-in-the-mud Republican, Kramer (Lemmon) and the glad-handing ladies-man Democrat, Douglas (Garner) – are caught in a cover-up by current head honcho, Haney (Aykroyd). The merry meleé ensues as the ex-Presidents are framed, chased, meet the general public on very intimate ground, and are forced to overcome nearly 30 years of rivalry to out-craft a desperate President, a slimy Chief of Staff (Bradley Whitford), and a gun-toting, beyond the law psycho NSA agent (Everett McGill – the bad-ass in Steven Seagal’s Under Siege 2: Dark Territory who used pepper spray like he was spritzing Binaca).

Newscaster Edwin Newman opens the film as the years quickly show both Kramer and Douglas accepting, then passing along, the Presidency. It’s quickly established that Kramer adapts once-moving speeches to fit product endorsements and has a dizzying variety of his own merchandise: cook books (among others), T-shirts, lunch boxes, coffee mugs, talking action figures, and his own spaghetti sauce. Immediately following is Douglas’ acidic distaste for Kramer’s saturation, as he himself has bedroom meetings with his book editor. In addition to being tracked by the out-for-blood NSA agents, the odd couple is dogged by ruthless newscaster Kaye Griffin (Sela Ward). Risking scandal, not to mention their lives, the ex-Presidents bicker their way across half the country to find the evidence to clear their names. Along the way, they hear the “voice of the people” as they’ve never heard it before. Confronted by the awe of a man who wants to shake their hands at the urinal and the heckling of a trainful of aging jocks who mistake them for impersonators, Douglas and Kramer discover the backlash of their actions, and the resentment for their inactions.

As the bad guys get on at Jefferson, our heroes jump, tuck, and roll into the amber waves of grain only to find out just how much dirt hurts. Making special appearances in convenience stores, campgrounds, diners, and rental car agencies, they meet their public as they run for their lives. As they hike across staggeringly beautiful landscapes, the two men open up (a bit), and their interplay, as throughout the rest of the movie, is top-notch. Scenes like the sharing of lyrics to “Hail to the Chief,” the marching with the All Dorothy Marching Band (“Oh Lord and Taylor, are you coming out?”), the help of the Dykes on Bikes (accompanied by “Brick House,” written in part by Lionel Riche of all people), and the interrogation of the Chief of Staff slimeball are classic skits of comedy that’ll last long after the trailers pop up on every friggin’ movie you rent.

While Lemmon gets top billing, Garner seems to get most of the funny lines – “Decaf?! You pussy!,” “Who am I, fuckin’ MacGyver? I’m making this up as I go along,” and the coulda-been-better speech about living up to their promises so as not to lose the idealistic, gloriously deluded fool who still believes. Credit trivia: The last two characters, Ted (John Heard – the vicious yuppie bully in Big), the VP’s makeup man, and a TV technician, were played by Editor William Kerr and Director Peter Segal respectively. And in addition to the TVT soundtrack fulla songs from Ella Fitzgerald, Wilson Pickett, Louis Armstrong, “Pink Houses” by John Cougar Mellencamp, and a slew of patriotic tunes, there’s a song called “Presidential Booty (AKA White Men Can’t Rap)” by Segal, Kerr, and the Asst. to Mr. Segal David “Skippy” Malloy (who also played Will, one of the train ride antagonists). Hollywood and Washington are both as bad as the boonies when it comes to inbreeding.