Animal House is many things: riotously funny movie, cultural touchstone, seminal hard-R teen comedy. Those make it a font of archetypes and catchphrases, including Bluto (“Seven years of college down the drain.”), Neidermeyer (“A Pledge Pin!”), Dean Wormer (“DOUBLE SECRET PROBATION!”), Flounder (“I can’t believe I threw up in front of Dean Wormer.”) and Otis Day & the Nights (“Otis, my man!”).
Let’s start with the blow-soda-out-your-nose comedy. No that doesn’t happen in the movie; too tame. It happens to unsuspecting viewers the first time watching Animal House. It’s one of those movies so insanely funny as to trigger involuntary physical reactions from virgin viewers. Beware or be embarrassed.
It’s still funny upon repeated viewings, even after a multi-decade layoff. Crucially, it starts off reverentially, with high-quality production values throughout, making the unhinged behavior all the funnier. The first hint of sly humor: Knowledge Is Good, the banal inscription on a stately statue of Faber College’s founder.
“A Pledge Pin!!” – screamed by the sadistic Neidermeyer triggers the first involuntary LOL for the wizened Animal House returnee. It’s hardly the last, though familiarity and maturity do dim the LOLs. The brilliant satire, characteristic of the late great National Lampoon, still delights however.
Part of the appeal is sheer naughtiness, what has become the hard-R recipe. Gross-out gags are a large part of this, but Animal House is also a soft-core porn movie, a veritable adolescent male fantasy come to life. It’s hardly an accident that most every date who gets to utter a line ends up topless. Boys crave boobs.
Animal House’s status as cultural touchstone is both reflective, especially with its golden oldies song selection, and prospective, at least from its premier in 1978. This huge hit launched the careers of several moviestars: Tom Hulce, Peter Riegert, Kevin Bacon and Karen Allen among them. Then there’s John Belushi, who became a superstar before dying after a few years of Bluto-like living. Mostly, it defined a collegiate ideal for generations of kids, one that had everything to do with partying and nothing to do with studying. About that last, one wonders if coed drinking spiked after Animal House? Bet it did.
Don’t know much about history.
Don’t know much biology.
[yadda, yadda, yadda]
What a wonderful world this would be.
Sam Cooke’s Wonderful World animates the cafeteria scene that memorably ends in a food fight. But those lyrics also sum up the whole movie, a wonderful world of debauchery, insouciance and absurd privilege.
Douglas Kenney & Chris Miller were brilliantly funny writers for National Lampoon long before writing Animal House with Harold Ramis. Working with the great comedy director John Landis, they were a dream team behind the camera.
Of note: Stumped Magazine on Animal House: The Movie that Changed Comedy
Deathly levels of drinking coupled with nudge-nudge-wink-wink taking advantage of dates make Animal House robustly risqué.
Never mind the extreme surrealism in this wacky comedy. Animal House is culturally important because of its deadly satire of post-war and pre-sixties America.
To wit, Animal House marked the apotheosis of National Lampoon, the brilliant humor magazine that mixed dead-on satire with wickedly funny quips and at least one bare breast per issue. Thus their filmic take on collegiate life was strategically set in 1962, “the last innocent year … of America, and the homecoming parade that ends the film as occurring on November 21, 1963, the day before President Kennedy’s assassination,” per Wikipedia. Note the Camelot float in the parade, complete with sorority girls all dressed in Jackie Kennedy’s pink suit.
The Sixties had yet to happen in ‘62, yet much of the film’s subtext is to satire the turmoil and roiling politics that occurred in the sixteen years between ’62 and ’78, the year Animal House premiered. Thus it includes Dean Wormer as a stand-in for Richard Nixon, oblique references to the Vietnam War, etc.
Seen from a 21st century vantage point, Animal House is a paean to mid-century white male privilege, with everyone at Faber College prepping to take their place in Mad Men America.