Alright, fellow tape-heads, settle in and adjust your tracking. Remember those Friday nights prowling the aisles of Blockbuster or the local mom-and-pop video store? Sometimes you grabbed a guaranteed hit, other times you took a chance on a cover box that just screamed "90s!" with its slightly awkward cast photo and explosive font. Landing squarely in that latter category, often nestled between bigger action hits and quirky comedies, was 1997’s Best Men. A film that tries to cram a wedding, a prison break aftermath, a heist, a hostage crisis, and buddy comedy dynamics into one sun-drenched, bullet-riddled package. Does it work? Well, that’s complicated, in the best possible way for VHS Heaven.
### A Wedding Plan Goes Sideways, Fast
The premise alone feels like something cooked up after one too many beers: Jesse (Luke Wilson, in one of his earlier, amiable roles) is getting out of the slammer after three years for a crime he didn't really commit (classic!). His loyal buddies – the charmingly intense Buzz (Dean Cain, fresh off wearing the Superman cape on TV), the soulful poet Sol (Sean Patrick Flanery, bringing that pre-Boondock Saints smolder), the hyperactive wildcard Teddy (Andy Dick, doing peak Andy Dick), and the nervous Billy (Mitchell Whitfield) – are there to pick him up and get him to the church on time. His patient, lovely bride Hope (Drew Barrymore, radiating charm even in a slightly underwritten role) is waiting. Simple, right? Wrong. Buzz, it turns out, has been fantasizing about robbing the local bank, not for the money, but for the story. And wouldn't you know it, today feels like the day. One incredibly impulsive decision later, and the entire wedding party, plus a bewildered Jesse, are holding up the bank, which quickly escalates into a full-blown hostage situation surrounded by cops led by the unflappable Sheriff Bud Phillips (Fred Ward – always a welcome sight, isn't he?).
### That 90s Ensemble Energy
Part of the peculiar charm of Best Men lies squarely with its cast, a snapshot of late-90s familiar faces. You had Dean Cain trying to leverage his TV stardom into film, playing Buzz with a sort of reckless, misplaced confidence. Sean Patrick Flanery broods effectively as Sol, the conscience of the group, who also happens to spout Shakespeare. A Retro Fun Fact here: the writers, Art Edler Brown and Tracy Fraim, were primarily actors themselves, which perhaps explains the attempt at giving each character distinct, albeit sometimes archetypal, personalities. Then there's Andy Dick as Teddy, essentially playing the comic relief agent of chaos; your mileage may vary depending on your tolerance for his particular brand of frantic energy back then. Luke Wilson anchors it as the bewildered straight man caught in his friends' insanity, and Drew Barrymore does her best with a role that mostly requires her to be supportive and occasionally exasperated from outside the bank siege. Seeing them all together feels like flipping through a 1997 issue of Entertainment Weekly.
### Bullets, Banter, and Budget Constraints
Now, let's talk action. Directed by Tamra Davis, whose filmography leaned more towards comedies like Billy Madison (1995) and Half Baked (1998), Best Men has a strange tonal tightrope act. One minute it’s aiming for laughs with snappy banter (some of which lands, some... doesn't), the next minute bullets are flying with surprising intensity. This wasn't the slick, hyper-stylized action we often see today. Remember how real those squibs and shattered windows felt back then? The shootouts here have that distinctly 90s practical feel – loud gunshots, guys diving behind surprisingly sturdy wooden desks, the occasional car getting riddled with holes. It feels tangible, grounded, even when the situation itself is absurd. You can almost smell the cordite through the CRT screen fuzz. There's a certain raw energy to it that CGI explosions often lack, even if the choreography isn't always John Woo level. It feels like they really shot up parts of Acton and Agua Dulce, California, where the film was made, giving it that authentic small-town-under-siege vibe.
### A Noble Failure or Misunderstood Gem?
Okay, let's be honest. Best Men wasn't exactly embraced upon release. Critically panned and pulling in a paltry $350,000 or so against a reported $6 million budget, it was a certified box office bomb. Ouch. That's likely why many of us discovered it lurking on video store shelves or catching it late at night on cable. It tries to be too many things at once – a heist flick, a buddy comedy, a romance, a statement on male bonding and responsibility – and the seams definitely show. The tonal shifts can be jarring, moving from goofy comedy to deadly stakes without much warning.
But here's the thing: watching it now, through the warm glow of VHS nostalgia, there’s something undeniably endearing about its ambition and its flaws. It has a certain earnestness, a belief in its crazy premise. The chemistry between the leads, particularly Wilson, Cain, and Flanery, feels genuine even when the script falters. And maybe, just maybe, Tamra Davis's comedic sensibilities bleeding into the action framework created something unintentionally unique – a slightly off-kilter action film with a surprisingly sentimental core (buried under gunfire and questionable decisions). It feels like a film made for that era, capturing a specific kind of cinematic energy that didn't quite know what it wanted to be, but went for it anyway.
***
VHS Heaven Rating: 6/10
Justification: The rating reflects the film's undeniable flaws – tonal inconsistency, some cringey dialogue, and a plot that stretches credibility thinner than worn-out tape ribbon. However, it earns points for its killer 90s cast, the earnest attempt at blending genres, the satisfyingly practical (if sometimes messy) action sequences, and its sheer nostalgic value as a quintessential video store oddity. It’s definitely not a masterpiece, but it's far from unwatchable and provides a fascinating snapshot of its time.
Final Rewind: Best Men is like that mixtape you made in '97 with grunge, pop-punk, and maybe one inexplicable slow jam thrown in – a bit messy, definitely dated, but overflowing with a specific, chaotic energy that still brings a smile (and maybe a wince) to your face. Worth digging out of the bargain bin for a dose of pure, unadulterated 90s ambition.