Guilty Pleasure No. 123: Old School (dir. by Todd Phillips)

Posted on July 16, 2026 by Arleigh

Old School is one of those comedies that feels like it was made in a lab to be the perfect guilty pleasure, a film that knows exactly what it is and doesn’t apologize for a second of it. Directed by Todd Phillips in 2003, it’s a raucous, often ridiculous ode to arrested development, where three thirtysomething men decide the solution to their midlife crises is to start a fraternity and relive their college glory days. On paper, it sounds like the kind of premise that could either be hilariously relatable or painfully cringe-inducing. In execution, it somehow manages to be both, which is exactly why it works as well as it does.

The story centers around Mitch, Frank, and Beanie, played by Luke Wilson, Will Ferrell, and Vince Vaughn, respectively. Mitch is a mild-mannered attorney whose world implodes when he walks in on his girlfriend, Heidi (Juliette Lewis), mid-orgy in his own bathroom. Frank, a former legendary party animal known as “Frank the Tank,” is about to get married but can’t seem to let go of his wild past. Beanie, the most level-headed of the trio, is a family man who still feels the pull of his youth. When Mitch impulsively buys a house near a college campus, Beanie suggests they turn it into a fraternity, and thus, the most chaotic midlife crisis in cinematic history begins. The premise is thin, but the film doesn’t need much more than an excuse to string together a series of increasingly absurd set pieces.

What makes Old School so much fun is the chemistry between its three leads. Wilson plays the straight man to Ferrell and Vaughn’s antics, grounding the film with a relatable everyman quality. Vaughn, with his rapid-fire delivery and sharp wit, is the glue that holds the trio together, while Ferrell steals every scene he’s in as the unhinged, beer-chugging, streaking force of nature that is Frank the Tank. Ferrell’s performance is a masterclass in commitment to the bit, whether he’s chugging beers in his underwear, delivering a motivational speech about the importance of “earning” respect, or streaking through a neighborhood in one of the most iconic comedy scenes of the 2000s. His energy is infectious, and it’s hard not to laugh at the sheer audacity of his character, even when the humor leans into the absurd or the juvenile.

The supporting cast is packed with familiar faces who add texture to the film’s world. Jeremy Piven is delightfully slimy as Dean Pritchard, the smug, power-tripping dean of students who holds a grudge against the trio from their own college days. Ellen Pompeo, pre-Grey’s Anatomy, plays Nicole, Mitch’s high school crush, who re-enters his life at Frank’s wedding and becomes a romantic subplot that feels both sweet and slightly out of place in a movie this committed to chaos. Leah Remini, Juliette Lewis, and Elisha Cuthbert round out the cast, each bringing their own flavor to the proceedings. The film also features a slew of cameos, from Snoop Dogg as himself to James Carville, which adds to its anything-goes vibe.

Todd Phillips’ direction leans heavily into the film’s frat-house aesthetic, with a loose, improvisational feel that mirrors the energy of its characters. The movie doesn’t bother with subtlety or nuance; it’s a series of escalating gags and set pieces designed to elicit laughs, and for the most part, it succeeds. The humor is often crude, sometimes dumb, but always delivered with a sense of enthusiasm that’s hard to resist. The film’s pacing is brisk, jumping from one ridiculous scenario to the next without much time to breathe, which works in its favor. There’s no pretension here—Old School isn’t trying to be a smart comedy or a biting satire. It’s a beer-soaked, testosterone-fueled romp, and it owns that identity with pride.

One of the film’s most memorable sequences is the “Mitch-A-Palooza” party, a rager that cements the trio’s status as campus legends. The party is a microcosm of everything Old School does well: it’s loud, it’s messy, and it’s filled with the kind of over-the-top antics that make you laugh even as you shake your head in disbelief. The scene where Frank the Tank rallies the troops with a speech about the importance of “earning your letters” before chugging a beer in his underwear is a perfect example of the film’s brand of humor. It’s stupid, it’s juvenile, but it’s also undeniably funny, thanks in large part to Ferrell’s commitment to the bit.

That said, Old School isn’t without its flaws. The film’s humor often relies on shock value and crude jokes, which won’t land for everyone. Some of the gags feel dated, and the film’s treatment of women is, at times, simplistic. The female characters are often relegated to the roles of either love interests or obstacles, and the movie’s worldview is unapologetically male-centric. It’s a product of its time, and while that doesn’t excuse some of its more problematic elements, it does explain them. The film also suffers from a lack of depth in its storytelling. The plot is thin, and the character arcs are minimal, but that’s almost beside the point. Old School isn’t trying to be a deep or meaningful film—it’s trying to be a fun, raucous comedy, and on that front, it largely delivers.

What makes Old School such a great guilty pleasure is its sheer unapologetic joy in its own ridiculousness. The film doesn’t pretend to be anything other than what it is: a celebration of immaturity, friendship, and the kind of chaos that can only come from a group of grown men trying to relive their youth. There’s something oddly endearing about the way Mitch, Frank, and Beanie cling to their college days, as if they’re afraid of what comes next. It’s a theme that resonates with anyone who’s ever felt a pang of nostalgia for a time when life felt simpler, even if that time was also filled with questionable decisions and questionable haircuts.

The film’s soundtrack is another standout element, packed with a mix of classic rock, hip-hop, and pop hits that perfectly complement its vibe. From Whitesnake’s “Here I Go Again” to Metallica’s “Master of Puppets,” the music adds an extra layer of energy to the film’s already high-octane proceedings. The soundtrack isn’t just background noise—it’s a character in its own right, helping to set the tone for each scene and amplifying the film’s sense of fun.

In the years since its release, Old School has only grown in stature as a cult classic, a film that’s frequently quoted, referenced, and revisited by fans. Lines like “You’re my boy, Blue!” and “Frank the Tank” have entered the comedic lexicon, and the film’s influence can be seen in the wave of bro comedies that followed in its wake. It’s a testament to the film’s enduring appeal that it still feels fresh and funny, even as some of its jokes and sensibilities have aged less gracefully.

At its core, Old School is a movie about friendship and the lengths we’ll go to hold onto the past. Mitch, Frank, and Beanie may be thirtysomethings, but their hearts are still stuck in their college days, and their journey is as much about reconnecting with each other as it is about reliving their youth. The film’s message isn’t exactly profound—sometimes, you just need to let loose and have fun—but it’s delivered with such enthusiasm and charm that it’s hard not to get swept up in it. And if that message comes wrapped in a package of crude jokes, ridiculous antics, and a healthy dose of nostalgia, well, that’s just part of the charm.

Ultimately, Old School is the kind of movie that you don’t so much watch as you experience. It’s a film that demands to be seen with friends, preferably with a few beers in hand and a willingness to embrace the chaos. It’s not perfect, and it’s certainly not for everyone, but for those who are willing to go along for the ride, it’s a wildly entertaining, laugh-out-loud romp that never fails to deliver on its promise of fun. It’s a guilty pleasure, sure, but sometimes, the best kind of movies are the ones that don’t take themselves too seriously. Old School is a reminder that it’s okay to be a little immature, to embrace the chaos, and to never stop chasing the things that make you happy—even if those things involve starting a fraternity in your 30s.

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An Olympic Film Review: Blades of Glory (dir by Josh Gordon and Will Speck)

Posted on February 25, 2018 by Lisa Marie Bowman

All good things must come to an end and the Winter Olympics have done just that. Tonight, here in the States, NBC will wrap up their coverage of the Games and they’ll broadcast the Closing Ceremonies. As NBC tends to do, they’ll pretend that they’re broadcasting live but the truth of the matter is that the Winter Games are over and now we’ll have to wait two years for the far-less exciting Summer Games.

I enjoyed the Winter Olympics this year. I was one of those obsessive people who would watch all of the recaps at one in the morning. Medal-wise, Norway dominated with a total of 39 medals. The United States came in fourth with only 23 medals but that’s still 22 more medals than Latvia got! (Just kidding, we love you, Latvia!) Overall, though, it was a pretty good Olympics.

That said, there were a few things missing.

For instance, no one attempted to recreate JFK’s affair with Marilyn Monroe on ice. I thought that was definitely a missed opportunity.

There weren’t any frantic chase scenes. No mascots were injured over the course of the Olympics. I guess we should be happy about that, all things considered. Still, it’s hard not to feel that this break with Olympic tradition left something lacking in the games.

Finally, none of the skating routines featured the risk of decapitation. Again, I guess this is a good thing. I mean, we really don’t want to see anyone lose their head, especially not when the games are being broadcast across the world. But again, it was hard not to feel that lack of the Iron Lotus was unfortunate.

In short, the Winter Olympics may have been good but they were nothing like the 2007 film, Blades of Glory.

Blades of Glory tells the story of two very different ice skaters. Jon Heder is Jimmy McElroy, who was adopted by a hyper-competitive, kinda creepy millionaire (William Fichtner) and practically raised to become a gold medalist. Will Ferrell is Chazz Michael Michaels, who is a hard-drinking, hard-living, sex addict. Jimmy is all about technical perfection. He’s a non-threatening, almost child-like celebrity, the type who has earned himself his own obsessive stalker (Nick Swardson). Chazz is, on the other hand, is a self-styled rock star, as well as being something of an idiot. In 2002, when they both tie for the gold, they get into an argument that 1) leads to a mascot getting set on fire, 2) brings shame upon the “World Winter Games,” and 3) leads to them getting banned from men’s single competition.

But, as Jimmy’s stalker figures out, that doesn’t mean that they can’t compete in pair skating! The former rivals may loathe each other but it’s either that or a future of skating in cheap ice shows and working in retail! Under the guidance of their burned-out coach (Craig T. Nelson), Jimmy and Chazz learn to work together. And what better way to win the gold than to do an extremely dangerous maneuver that could potentially lead to one of them losing his head?

However, not everyone is happy to see Chazz and Jimmy return to competition. The reigning champions — Straz and Fairchild Van Waldenberg (Amy Poehler and Will Arnett, who were still married when they played creepy siblings in this film) — have no intention of allowing themselves to be upstaged. And if that means using their younger sister (Jenna Fischer) to try to drive a wedge between Chazz and Jimmy, so be it…

So, obviously, Blades of Glory is not a serious look at the world of ice skating. The plot is really just an excuse to highlight the absurdity of putting people who clearly don’t belong there on the ice. This is another Will Ferrell comedy where the majority of the laughs come from the absolute dedication that Ferrell brings to playing an almost absurdly stupid human being. Ferrell has the ability to deliver even the most nonsensical of dialogue with total sincerity and conviction. In Blades of Glory, he’s well-matched by Jon Heder, who brings his own odd style to the role of Jimmy. If Ferrell is all about aggressive stupidity, Jon Heder is all about impish stupidity and it becomes surprisingly compelling to see whose stupidity will ultimately win it.

While it never quite reaches the highs of Anchorman, Blades of Glory is still a funny movie. It made me laugh and that’s always a good thing.

Insomnia File #25: The Winning Season (dir by James C. Strouse)

Posted on May 10, 2017 by Lisa Marie Bowman

What’s an Insomnia File? You know how some times you just can’t get any sleep and, at about three in the morning, you’ll find yourself watching whatever you can find on cable? This feature is all about those insomnia-inspired discoveries!

If, last night, you were up at 11:45 then … well, you were probably like most people. To be honest, I don’t know if The Winning Season, which aired on Cinemax last night, really counts as an insomnia file. Being up at midnight probably doesn’t qualify as insomnia.

That said, The Winning Season is an extremely sweet and likable movie that, until I came across it last night, I had previously heard nothing about. Even if it wasn’t directly inspired by insomnia, this was a film that I was happy to discover and I’m going to recommend that, if you haven’t seen it, you discover it too.

Of course, I guess I shouldn’t be too shocked that I loved this film because it stars Sam Rockwell. Sam Rockwell is one of my favorite actors. It’s not just that he’s talented and that he frequently takes risks and chooses interesting projects, though all of that is certainly true. There’s a sincerity to Sam Rockwell’s performances. He’s one of those actors who, when you watch him, you feel as if he’s literally opening up his heart and soul to you. There are few actors who can make me cry quite as effectively as Sam Rockwell. That he didn’t win an Oscar for Moon (and has, in fact, never even been nominated) remains one of the most glaring mistakes in the history of the Academy Awards.

Sam Rockwell is at the center of The Winning Season and it’s hard to imagine the film working with anyone other than him in the leading role. Sam plays Bill, a former high school basketball star who is now a divorced alcoholic with a 16 year-old daughter that he struggles to communicate with. Like many of Rockwell’s character, Bill is irresponsible but he means well. Bill spends most of his time drinking and working as a busboy at a restaurant.

One night, Bill is approached by his former teammate, Terry (Rob Corddry). Terry is now a high school principal and he has an offer for Bill. Terry needs a new coach for the Girls’ Basketball Team. Even though Bill doesn’t consider Girls’ Basketball to be a real sport, he accepts the position.

And you can guess what happens. When Bill is first hired, no one takes the team seriously. There’s only six players on the team and none of them — not even the ones played by Emma Roberts and Rooney Mara — believe that they have a chance at a winning season. In fact, their best player breaks her ankle before the season even begins. After a rough start, Bill and the girls bond and soon, they start to win games.

Again, it’s not surprising but it is incredibly sweet. And, as predictable as it may be, the film still throws in a few unexpected twists. One thing that I liked is that, even after they started to get good, the team still struggled and lost the occasional game. They didn’t all magically become the best basketball players ever and, for that matter, Sam didn’t magically become the best coach in the world. This is an unapologetic crowd pleaser that still keeps one foot in reality. Everyone, in the film, fully commits to their roles. In particular, Margo Martindale is great in the role of Bill’s assistant. It’s always a pleasure to watch two good actors play off of each other and Martindale’s scenes with Sam Rockwell are fun to watch.

But really, the entire film belongs to Sam Rockwell. Sam Rockwell can take the most predictable dialogue imaginable and make it sound like poetry. About halfway through the film, Bill loses his driver’s licence and is reduced to showing up at the games on bicycle. There’s little that is more adorable than Sam Rockwell pedaling across the screen.

The Winning Season is an incredibly sweet and likable movie. I’m glad that I discovered it.

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Quickie Review: Hot Tub Time Machine (dir. by Steve Pink)

Posted on June 24, 2010 by Arleigh

I was a child of the 80’s. I can’t escape that particular information about my past, but unlike some of those of my generation I wholeheartedly embrace the 80’s both the good and the bad and the oh-so-awful. This is why after watching Hot Tub Time Machine (directed by Steve Pink…quite an 80’s name if there ever was one) I have a much deeper appreciation for the things I went through growing up as a teen during the mid-80’s. Rap was just starting to get real popular. Hairstyles, fashion and pop culture was dictated by the emerging juggernaut that was MTV (when they actually played music videos). This raunchy (and it is pretty raunchy) comedy starring John Cusack, Rob Corddry, Craig Robinson and Clark Duke definitely spoke to my inner 80’s teen self.

The film’s premise could’ve been taken straight out of any 80’s direct-to-video knock-off of Back to the Future meets Porky’s. I mean the title itself pretty much explains the premise of the film. A literal hot tub acts as a time machine which whisks the four actors mentioned above to 1986 where they get to re-live a specific night they all spent together in 1986 (well, except Duke’s character who wasn’t born yet). Talk about space-time continuum and butterfly effect gets bandied about, but in the end the whole film was just trying to insert as much 80’s pop culture references as possible within 90 and plus minutes.

The film definitely got the 80’s vibe by liberally putting in boobs and naked chicks. 80’s icons Chevy Chase, Crispin Glover and William Zabka make appearances and John Hughes moments get replicated. I mean shot literally like it was Sixteen Candles all over again. The performances by everyone involved was great and it seemed like everyone were enjoying themselves. Craig Robinson as Nick had me laughing out loud every time he said something.

One thing good I can say about Hot Tub Time Machine that encompasses everything good about it is that it played like the anti-Judd Apatow comedy. While Apatow laughers I enjoy they’ve gotten to the point that everyone tries to make their comedies sound like his. Plus, any comedy that can have Sixteen Candles and Red Dawn references in the same 30-minute span has to be awesome….Oh yeah, it also used Mötley Crüe’s “Home Sweet Home” power ballad over and over.