John Candy: I Like Me
★★★ 1/2
There’s something deeply comforting about watching John Candy on screen. For many people who grew up in the ’80s and ’90s, he wasn’t just a funny actor. He was a presence. The kind of performer who could walk into a scene and immediately make it warmer, gentler and somehow more human. Even as a kid, I remember feeling the weight of losing such an immense talent far too early.
That’s what makes John Candy: I Like Me such an effective and emotional documentary. The title itself feels perfect, pulling directly from one of the most unforgettable moments in Planes, Trains and Automobiles, which remains one of my favorite movie scenes ever performed. The chemistry between Steve Martin and John Candy in that film is legendary, but that “I like me” speech also encapsulates why Candy resonated so deeply with audiences. He felt authentic. He felt kind.
And honestly, that’s largely what this documentary confirms. This is not one of those modern celebrity documentaries digging for scandal or trying to expose some hidden darkness. The film itself even acknowledges there isn’t much dirt to uncover about Candy because, by nearly every account, he genuinely seemed like a salt-of-the-earth good man. There are small references to his love of partying and stories about closing down bars with friends, hinting that there were probably corners of his life left unexplored, but the documentary never feels dishonest because of that omission. Instead, it chooses to celebrate the humanity that defined him.
The documentary is told primarily through the voices of those who knew him best, and that alone makes it worthwhile. Seeing comedy legends like Bill Murray, Catherine O'Hara and Eugene Levy reflect on Candy and the early days of SCTV is fascinating because that ensemble was absolutely stacked with comedic talent. The documentary does a great job showing how Candy happened to arrive at just the right place and right time, surrounded by people who would go on to redefine comedy for a generation.
What surprised me most was learning more about the business side of his life, particularly his involvement with the Toronto Argonauts. I wasn’t very familiar with that chapter of his career, and the documentary explores how deeply invested he became in the team and how that passion may have unintentionally pulled focus away from his film work in the early ’90s. It adds an interesting layer to understanding why his later films like Wagons East! and Canadian Bacon never carried the same reputation as classics like Uncle Buck or Stripes.
There’s also something unexpectedly emotional about watching so many comedy icons reflect on Candy at this stage in life. Seeing Catherine O'Hara speak so lovingly about him becomes a reminder that this entire generation of comedic legends shaped so much of what audiences still love today. Time inevitably catches up with all of them, and the documentary quietly carries that awareness throughout.
Stylistically, I Like Me doesn’t reinvent the documentary format. There aren’t flashy techniques or groundbreaking filmmaking choices here. But honestly, that simplicity works in its favor. If you love John Candy and what he brought to movies, this documentary completely pulls you in because it understands exactly why he mattered.
More than anything, it feels like a tribute to a genuinely decent man. Someone who took his craft seriously, worked hard and cared deeply about the people around him. In an entertainment landscape where celebrity stories are often built around ego, scandal or controversy, there’s something refreshing about spending time with a documentary whose biggest revelation is simply that its subject was kind.
