“The Blues Brothers” (1980) has such massive set pieces and action sequences that the belly laughs have little chance at being equally big. But it’s nonetheless a classic comedy for a reason; I found myself warming up to the movie and smiling as it went on.
It’s more bombastic than it strictly needs to be. “Joliet Jake” Blues’ (John Belushi) cold-open release from prison is as grandiose as something like “The Shawshank Redemption,” and we’re never actually told what he served the three years for. Brother Elwood Blues (Dan Aykroyd) regularly explains that they’re “on a mission from God” as they reassemble their rhythm-and-blues band. (Note to self: Research whether the film plays as a religious allegory.)
If writer-director John Landis and co-writer Aykroyd are full of themselves early on, we gradually see that their cockiness is earned. Although the story is simple (re-form the band, and use their earnings to pay a tax bill that will keep their home church going), “Blues Brothers” is not a small comedy. It’s massive.
“The Blues Brothers” (1980)
Director: John Landis
Writers: Dan Aykroyd, John Landis
Stars: John Belushi, Dan Aykroyd, Cab Calloway
How many cars are destroyed in this movie for the sake of over-the-top action? Save your answer for the very end, because the number ratchets up faster than the body count in “Hot Shots!”
The movie actually starts too slow, but then it springs into action when Elwood – about to be arrested for unpaid traffic tickets – chooses to lead the cops on a chase. The sequence makes utter mincemeat out of a mall. We anticipate every set-up from that point forward, and we’re often rewarded.
Band on the run
The stunt work on “Blues Brothers” is incredible, outshining the comedy. The latter is of a specific absurdist brand that you have to figure out and then decide if you like it. (I decided I do, mostly.) The mall chase is an initial cue that we’re in a skewed reality, but a bigger hint comes when Carrie Fisher, seemingly playing a bounty hunter, fires a rocket launcher at the Blues Brothers and then blows up their building! (They’re unscathed, as is the official played by John Candy, also pursuing the duo.)
The payoff explanation for how Fisher ties into this might not match the scope of her actions (which is, indeed, the joke), but I wanted the question answered, so I kept watching. Also pulling me in like a magnet are the musician references. Fisher might not play herself, nor does she play Princess Leia (who by comparison is a pacifist), but “Blues Brothers” features a backing band of skilled musicians, plus cameos from Cab Calloway, James Brown, Ray Charles and Aretha Franklin, playing “themselves.”
Like “La La Land,” the movie exists at the edge of the musical category. There aren’t enough breaks-into-song for it to be a pure musical, and there no original tunes. But another great absurdist moment comes when Franklin, as the Soul Food Café owner, performs a fully choreographed version of “Think” to try to guilt her husband and co-owner (Matt Murphy) into staying, rather than running off with the band.
He rejects her plea. This is a movie about the irresistible pull of music, presaging “School of Rock” but finding audiences harder to win over. When the Blues Brothers steal a gig at a bar that plays “both kinds (of music) – country and Western,” it’s a good thing they are behind chicken wire, because the beer bottles fly at them like they’re in “Road House.” Even when they switch to the theme from “Rawhide” and Tammy Wynette’s “Stand By Your Man,” the bottles still fly, even though the crowd is nominally pleased.
I’m nominally pleased by “Blues Brothers.” It goes so over the top that even by 2025 real-world standards the aggressive behavior and over-staffing of the pursuing cops and National Guardsmen is nuts. But by the end, Aykroyd, Belushi, Landis and everyone in their wake earn their initially affected coolness and righteousness. You can’t feel blue after watching “Blues Brothers.”