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OPINION
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The Candy Man

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I was sitting in my dorm room freshman year when a roommate showed me a full-page ad in The New York Times. It was for the movie Splash, starring a new actor, Tom Hanks. It mentioned a mermaid and added, "For Alan Bauer, it was love at first sight." Well, I did not know that I was a movie star, but here it was in black and white. Obviously, I saw the movie, which included John Candy as Freddie Bauer, Tom Hanks' on-screen brother.

Three years passed, and I noticed that John Candy was going to receive some type of acting award at Harvard. I figured that this would be my opportunity to meet my "brother." I attended the award ceremony in the Science Center and then took a chance. There are two exits at the base of the lecture hall, and Candy would have to leave by one of them. I chose the one on the left and waited. After a few minutes, Candy came barreling toward me, with a scowl on his face suggesting that he was not interested in dealing with a fan and just wanted to get out of Cambridge. As he got nearer, I said, "My name is Alan Bauer." He stopped and thought for a second or two. Then he grabbed my hand and sobbed, "Please don't sue us!" In those days, we still had those organizers—either black or red—and I gave him mine with a pen. "To my brother. See you at the sea." I had kept the autograph for years, but it was lost with other personal heirlooms when my folks moved from Chicago to Las Vegas.

I watched the recent documentary made by Hanks' son on the life of John Candy, titled I Like Me. Bill Murray complains at the beginning of the film that it's really hard to find something bad to say about the late comedian. On screen and in real life, he was beloved. By his family, by his colleagues, and by the folks in Toronto. He bought the local Canadian football team along with Wayne Gretzky, and would go out on the field to help injured players get to the sidelines. His wife and children said that he was a dedicated family man who put a premium on being with them. Co-stars from movies like Home Alone, Trains, Planes and Automobiles, and Stripes described an actor who became his role. It didn't matter if he was the recruit in Stripes or the polka king of Home Alone; he became his character and made us all laugh and smile.

It is related in the movie that Candy's father died of a heart attack at age 35 on John's fifth birthday. He carried the weight of his father's death with him throughout his life. Though he was famous and loved by fans all over the world, he suffered from anxiety and panic attacks. We often assume that Hollywood stars live golden lives of opulence, fame, and success. We generally do not know much about their personal lives or individual challenges. I recently saw a picture of a well-known actor with his son, with whom he reconciled after 20 years of disconnect. The son, no doubt living in the lap of luxury, was a drug addict, and his father cut him off. Most of the stars from the 1980s and 1990s came from humble backgrounds and became megawatt celebrities. One can argue whether movies from those days are better than current offerings or those of the 1950s. The people interviewed in the documentary were the cream of the crop from Second City, Saturday Night Live, and beloved comedies like Ghostbusters and Uncle Buck. People go to movies to get a timeout in their lives and leave behind all their worries and concerns for an hour or two. John Candy and his cohort of comedians from Second City TV (SCTV) and Hollywood gave people the laughs they needed in order to return to the challenges of their lives with vigor and a smile.

Two stories give a measure of the man. There was an SCTV party, and people told Candy that a young Steven Spielberg was looking for him. He said that it was nonsense. When he met the director, the latter said that he wanted him for his upcoming movie, 1941. Candy told Spielberg that everyone had been drinking and he really didn't mean it, to which Spielberg made it clear that he only came to the party to get him into his movie. Later, during an interview, a reporter asked Candy if he had been married at a McDonald's. There was a picture of the actor and his wife standing in front of the golden arches. "No, you see, we were married in a TV studio right after they filmed a commercial for McDonald's Canada. So the arches were still up on the wall." And it did not bother him in the least.

There are certain people, like Candy and say Robin Williams, who can make people laugh simply by their very presence. Dan Akroyd and Bill Murray need to say or do something funny to get us to laugh. Not Candy. His mere presence could make those present smile and start to giggle. And when he was in costume for whatever role he played, he did not have to say a word to get the yuks from the crowd. He had wanted to be a football player, but a knee injury in high school ended that dream. He kept going back to drama activities and literally worked his way up from the bottom—from the obscure world of Toronto and Canadian comedy and TV to the heights of Hollywood stardom. There was an old joke about George W. Bush that he was born on third base and thought that he had hit a triple. The ones who start with nothing and succeed generally do not hurl their children down to penury and tell them to follow in their footsteps. Rather, the children start at a position of wealth and go from there. Yet, it is the hard knocks and challenges of working just to get a paycheck that made the earlier generations successful. Not having those challenges may be a blessing in life, but a disadvantage in building character and experience. At one point in the documentary, Candy tells an interviewer that a person who does not know the business side of acting will pay a heavy price for his ignorance.

Candy was a dedicated friend who would often do things out of loyalty to those around him. Some of his less successful movies at the end of his career were products of friends asking him to be in those movies. He died while filming in Mexico at the age of 43. One of his actor friends said that he was found with a Bible open next to his bed. He was worried that his heart would not hold out, as it had not for his father. His big frame and anxiety put a strain on his heart that was too much. It was related that during his funeral in LA, the police closed the 405 freeway. It had only been closed twice before—once for a Papal visit, the other for a U.S. president. John Candy was not the "big star" like Tom Hanks or Macaulay Culkin, but he was the one who made movies funny and successful. He could make all of the other actors better and thus seal the success of almost any movie in which he appeared.

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