John Candy: I Like Me

Be care... Hey, be careful with that thing.

Take one.

Thank you.

Well, I don't really know the meaning of the word "vulnerability."

I just don't.

Uh, but there was... I can't tell you what was right about John Candy

or what was wrong.

I have no... I-I'm not really sure what was going on there.

But he was my friend,

and when you see him,

when you see his face... I mean,

I don't want to cry, but wh-when I see his face,

I really miss him, you know,

'cause we were together, really together,

and then we both sort of spun off and went our... went...

You know, we both carved out a little space up there in the world for ourselves,

and, and then he was taken, you know, he was gone.

Quickly, you know?

And he was smart and he was...

you know, he loved music and he was good to people.

You can always judge someone by how they treat a waiter or waitress, you know.

He always was, like... he always was kind

to people that were working, that were working, you know,

'cause we were starving once.

You know, you... uh...

I wish I had some more bad things to say about him.

B-But that's the problem when you talk about John.

People don't really have a lot of negative things to say about him,

and I hope that what you're producing here turns up some people

that have got some dirt on him, because...

I did do a play once, I did a stage reading, um...

See, this is a bad thing to say about him.

Good, I'm glad I thought of something.

Hi, Daddy.

Hi, Jennifer, how you doing?

- Hi. - Can you see me in here?

- Yes. - Okay.

I'm gonna give it out today in the manner

in which he would have wanted it.

You have been accorded a great honor.

You stand up and walk to the front of the room

and, without grief or weeping, deliver loudly,

clearly, short and straight to the salient points,

the best tribute and oratory possible from the heart

of an allied professional, a creative brother, and a fellow Canadian

who loved this boy from the Donlands like we had the same blood.

We salute first a patriot who always professed and promoted

the positive interests of the North

but who also welcomed into his fold Americans

and was enfolded, in turn, by them.

Like all on our planet, they eventually came to see his indistillable value.

This is no meager life we reflect on today.

This is as full a life as any human can live.

Joy, emotional abundance of spirit, infectious rage,

a tinge of Lugosi-like madness with his bottom reverse-vampire teeth and all.

A titan of a gentle, golden man.

Magnificent of visage, eyes, and frame.

Let none be deceived by what the less enlightened would label as "girth,"

for there are many witnesses to the clamping power of his mitts

and the steel in his forearms,

the quickness and lightness of foot and leg.

Challenge him, and you would be hurled away like a toy.

There's a word in our language we don't hear much anymore,

but it applies to Candy.

The word is "grand."

He was a grand man.

John Franklin Candy,

devoted son, brother, altar boy, student, salesman,

stage, radio, and television writer and performer,

world-famous comedy ambassador, farce and dramatic actor.

international feature film star, director, businessman, connoisseur, percussionist,

charitable benefactor, husband, father,

and the sweetest, most generous person ever known to me.

I loved him from the instant I laid eyes on him

in his first impeccable suit...

...and I will never stop.

News on the March.

Okay, hold it, we'll roll it again in a sec.

Well, that's it.

That's it. What do you think, boys?

Pretty damn good documentary, if I do say so myself.

Only one thing bothers me.

What about the man?

Well, what do we know about him, his motivations?

Why did he do the things he did?

Where's he from? Where was he born?

Yeah, yeah, where was he born?

Go to Jupiter, go to Venus, go to Pluto, I don't care.

Get the story, that's what we need.

So that this man sits down and sees it,

and we tell him more about him than he knows about himself.

I like it.

Mr. Candy, is this your, uh,

- first birthday production? - This is... yes.

It is indeed my first production, yes, and we're, we're hoping it goes well.

We're a little nervous...

and everybody's tense, but, uh, we've rehearsed as much as we could... we can,

and, uh, well, we'll see what happens.

Okay. Christopher.

Christopher, how's the party?

Fine, I got to go eat pizza.

Okay.

People will often come up and ask the questions.

"What character was your father most like?"

You know, I'm someone who's grown up primarily without a father.

And feels a bit like

being a detective of your own father's life.

You're kind of going back and looking over at who he was, who he knew...

and then also your experiences with him.

When I zoom in...

Then you got to adjust this.

Oh, what an ugly beard.

This is your close-up here.

- Can I see? - See, now you're,

you're perfect, you're clear.

And now adjust it. See?

On the lighter side of things, he was super fun.

You know, I think my father was someone who, um, was a big kid,

so he knew how to be a kid

with me.

Hi, Daddy.

Everyone wants to make it to the top.

Big giant...

And it's a lot of work.

And sometimes you're so focused that you have blinders on

and you don't see anything else

or you forget people or you forget yourself.

Hi, Jennifer.

Come to me.

He knew that putting in the hard work,

taking care of your team, taking care of your family,

that's what's most important, and our dad always did.

He took care of everyone.

He touched so many aspects of the world,

I think that it's left a lasting impression.

How old were you when you got your first laugh

and decided you liked it?

I guess at a young age.

I mean, uh, much like most kids,

you know, we were always just fooling around, playing.

I loved play... I played a lot.

Had a great imagination as a kid.

You're always, uh, playing pretend games

and putting little stage shows on in garages or in someone's basement.

So, my dad was born on Halloween in Newmarket in Canada.

Just north of Toronto.

They were only there for about a year or so.

They moved into the city to East York

with his brother Jim and his mom Van.

My grandfather's name was Sidney.

Sid was in the Canadian Army.

He was a sergeant and a World War II vet.

He passed away from a major heart attack

in, uh, 1955 on John's fifth birthday.

My grandfather passed away at 35.

And you're like, "Wait, 35, that's way too young."

They never talked about it.

My father was five.

You know, he was a little kid.

There's something that can happen to a child

who goes through loss at that early of an age.

They don't know what to do with that trauma.

So, if my father at five loses his father

and no one wants to deal with it--

they go ahead and have his birthday...

...he doesn't really know what to do and he grows up looking for help.

John took over being the dad.

He was the child that made everyone happy.

And he was the adult that did that.

He continued that.

He very rarely talked about it.

There was just this connection

with his birth and his dad's death that is too confusing.

Van carried him, John did, Jim did.

His memory was there forever.

They moved into my grandparents' home, into the basement down there.

The bunker, as they called it.

They moved into that house,

which was actually my great-grandmother's house,

and that was a survival place for them.

They needed a place to live.

My grandmother, she lived with her sister.

Aunt Fran.

My dad and his brother

lived in the downstairs area.

Everyone else lived upstairs.

They were packed. It was kind of sardines in there.

The house was always open, and I think that is part of John's makeup,

how receptive he was to people.

He loved his family, they laughed a lot.

They always laughed.

People could walk in there any time of the day and night,

and there'd be food.

She'd be making and making and telling John and I, "Eat, eat, eat,"

and then she'd turn around and go, "You guys are getting fat."

You know? It's like, "Yeah, okay, thanks, Granny."

We've talked to some people who knew you in your early childhood

and your teen years.

And they remember you as being down-to-earth

and an absolutely reliable friend.