Alright, rewind your minds with me for a second. Picture this: Friday night, the glow of the "New Releases" wall at the local video store, maybe Video Galaxy or Blockbuster if you were lucky. You’re scanning the boxes, the slightly worn cardboard promising laughs, action, maybe a little bit of cheesy romance. And then you see it – that unmistakable face, eyes wide, tie perpetually loosened. Rodney Dangerfield. The box for Back to School (1986) practically vibrated with comedic energy right there on the shelf. You knew, just knew, you were in for a good time. And let me tell you, popping that tape into the VCR rarely disappointed.
This wasn't just another fish-out-of-water comedy; it was the perfect vehicle for Dangerfield's established persona – the lovable, perpetually put-upon, yet secretly savvy schlub who finally gets a win. Here, he's Thornton Melon, a ridiculously successful clothing magnate ("Tall & Fat" shops – genius!) who, in a bid to reconnect with his disillusioned college student son Jason (Keith Gordon), decides the only logical course of action is… to enroll in college alongside him. It’s a premise so perfectly tailored to Rodney's shtick, you can almost hear him saying, "My son, he tells me he gets no respect at college. So I figured, hey, I'll go with him. Maybe I'll get no respect together!"
### Class is in Session (Sort Of)
What follows is pure 80s wish-fulfillment cranked up to eleven. Thornton doesn't just attend classes; he conquers them, albeit unconventionally. He hires NASA scientists to do his physics homework, gets Kurt Vonnegut (yes, the Kurt Vonnegut, playing himself in a delightful cameo) to write his paper on Kurt Vonnegut, and transforms his dorm room into a luxury suite complete with a hot tub and his loyal, street-smart chauffeur Lou (Burt Young, perfectly cast as the supportive muscle). Remember Lou? Paulie from Rocky trading punches for punchlines, and doing it brilliantly.
The script itself has an interesting history. While credited to several writers, it’s widely known that Dangerfield brought in his friend Harold Ramis (Ghostbusters, Groundhog Day) for significant rewrites to better suit his comedic voice. Apparently, the original script was a bit darker, and it was Rodney and Ramis who injected the lighter, more gag-focused energy we see on screen. You can feel that Ramis touch – a certain smartness underpinning the silliness, ensuring the jokes land with precision, even when they’re gloriously dumb. This wasn't just throwing gags at the wall; it was crafted absurdity, built around a star who knew exactly how to deliver it.
### More Than Just One-Liners
While Rodney is undoubtedly the gravitational center, the supporting cast truly shines. Sally Kellerman (an Oscar nominee for MASH*) brings warmth and class as Dr. Diane Turner, the English literature professor who catches Thornton's eye, providing a grounding counterpoint to his manic energy. Their interactions add a surprising layer of sweetness to the proceedings. And then there's Robert Downey Jr., impossibly young and bursting with punk rock energy as Derek Lutz, Jason's eccentric roommate. Even in this early role, his charisma is undeniable.
But let's be honest, one of the film's most volcanically memorable moments belongs to the late, great Sam Kinison as Professor Terguson, the history teacher whose veins seem perpetually ready to burst. His explosive lecture on the Vietnam War ("AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHH!") felt raw and slightly dangerous back then, a jolt of pure, untamed stand-up energy dropped into a mainstream comedy. Rumor has it much of his scene was improvised, which absolutely tracks with the barely-contained chaos he brings. Director Alan Metter, who also gave us the enjoyable Girls Just Want to Have Fun (1985), wisely lets these personalities run wild within the framework.
### The Triple Lindy and Other Acts of Academic Defiance
Of course, no discussion of Back to School is complete without mentioning the legendary "Triple Lindy" dive. The climactic scene, where Thornton must perform this impossible feat to save the diving team (and arguably, his academic career), is pure, unadulterated movie magic. It’s ridiculous, over-the-top, and utterly triumphant. Even though we knew it wasn't Rodney himself flipping through the air (it was actually performed by a professional diver named Kevin Means), the sheer audacity of the sequence, scored perfectly, felt like a huge payoff. This was the kind of practical spectacle – a real person doing a complex dive, captured on film – that felt thrillingly tangible on our fuzzy CRT screens, worlds away from today’s slick CGI assists.
Filmed largely on location at the University of Wisconsin–Madison, the movie captures that quintessential 80s college vibe – big parties, questionable fashion, and a healthy dose of anti-establishment sentiment directed at stuffy deans and tenured bores. It tapped into that fantasy many of us probably had: what if you could go back to school, but this time with money, confidence, and zero tolerance for B.S.? For a relatively modest budget of around $11 million, Back to School was a certified smash hit, pulling in over $91 million domestically. Audiences loved it, connecting deeply with Dangerfield’s underdog charm finally getting its due.
### VHS Heaven Rating & Final Thoughts
This isn't high-brow cinema, folks. It's comfort food comedy, a warm blanket woven from one-liners, slapstick, and genuine heart. It leans into its formula, but does so with such infectious energy and a perfectly deployed star that it transcends its clichés. There's a sweetness to the father-son story, and Dangerfield, beneath the jokes, makes Thornton surprisingly likable.
Rating: 8/10
Justification: Back to School earns this score for being the quintessential Rodney Dangerfield vehicle, packed with quotable lines, memorable supporting turns (Kinison!), and iconic moments like the Triple Lindy. It perfectly captures the spirit of 80s mainstream comedy – big, loud, a little goofy, but undeniably entertaining and possessing a surprising amount of charm that holds up remarkably well.
Final Take: Back to School remains a masterclass in building a comedy around a unique star persona. It’s a glorious slice of 80s excess, a reminder of when movie stars could carry a film on sheer charisma and expertly delivered punchlines, no CGI required – just maybe a little help from Kurt Vonnegut. Definitely worth dusting off the VCR… or, you know, finding it on streaming. Respect!