Okay, fellow tape travelers, let's rewind to a time when dark comedy could be truly, gloriously mean-spirited and still pack the rental aisles. Some movie titles just grabbed you from the plastic clamshell case, didn't they? And 1987's Throw Momma from the Train wasn't just a title; it was a hilariously morbid suggestion, a premise so audacious it felt like a secret handshake among those of us hunting for something beyond the usual multiplex fare. It landed like a comedic hand grenade, lobbed directly into the suburban anxieties of the late 80s.

At its heart, this is Danny DeVito’s show, both in front of and, crucially, behind the camera. Making his feature directorial debut, DeVito didn't just dip his toe in; he cannonballed into the deep end with this pitch-black farce penned by Stu Silver (who'd later reunite with DeVito for Twins). We meet Larry Donner (Billy Crystal, arguably at the peak of his neurotic everyman charm), a novelist suffering crippling writer's block after his ex-wife Margaret (a deliciously spiteful Kate Mulgrew) stole his manuscript and turned it into a bestseller. Larry channels his misery into teaching creative writing at a community college, where he encounters Owen Lift (Danny DeVito), a man whose life is utterly dominated by his physically imposing, emotionally abusive, and genuinely monstrous mother.
Owen, bless his simple, homicidal heart, gets an idea while watching Hitchcock’s Strangers on a Train (clips of which are cleverly woven into the film) with Larry. The perfect crime! A criss-cross! Owen will happily dispatch Larry’s literary-thief ex-wife if Larry will just... you know... deal with Momma. What follows is a masterclass in escalating comic panic, driven by Crystal’s frantic energy and DeVito’s unsettling blend of childish innocence and murderous intent. Remember how Crystal could just sell pure exasperation? His bellowing "Owen!" became an instant catchphrase for anyone dealing with an unwanted, persistent annoyance. Apparently, Crystal ad-libbed heavily, adding layers to Larry’s breakdown.

While Crystal provides the relatable anchor of sanity slowly slipping away, and DeVito crafts a character who is somehow both pitiable and terrifying, the film belongs entirely to one person: Anne Ramsey as Momma Lift. Oh, Momma. This wasn't just a performance; it was a force of nature captured on celluloid. Hulking, rasping, demanding, and utterly unforgettable, Ramsey created one of the great screen monsters of the 80s, comedic or otherwise. Every line reading ("Owen! The neighbours are complaining again!"), every glare, every bodily function hinted at felt utterly, comically real yet terrifyingly larger than life. It's a performance etched into the minds of anyone who saw it back in the day.
Here’s a Retro Fun Fact that adds a layer of profound respect: Anne Ramsey was battling throat cancer during the filming, which tragically claimed her life not long after the film's release. Knowing this adds a poignant dimension to her ferocious energy. She poured everything into this role, earning a richly deserved Academy Award nomination for Best Supporting Actress. It wasn’t just makeup and a character voice; it was a performer giving her all under incredibly difficult circumstances, and it shows in every frame.


Danny DeVito, directing himself and his co-stars, shows a surprising knack for pacing and tone right out of the gate. He lets the absurdity build, balancing the genuinely dark premise (murder, emotional abuse) with moments of pure slapstick and Crystal’s perfectly timed reactions. The film feels like the 80s – not just the clothes or cars, but the slightly grainy look, the lived-in sets (Momma's house feels authentically cluttered and oppressive), the way the comedy feels less polished, perhaps, than modern equivalents, but possesses a raw, almost dangerous edge. There's no slick CGI smoothing things over; the comedy comes from the performances, the timing, and the sheer audacity of the script. When Owen makes his clumsy attempts, they feel grounded in a kind of pathetic reality that’s funnier (and darker) for it.
It’s interesting to note that Throw Momma from the Train was a significant box office success, pulling in nearly $58 million against a roughly $14 million budget. It clearly tapped into something audiences were hungry for – maybe a collective need to laugh at life's suffocating figures? It wasn't universally adored by critics initially, but audiences found it, rented it, and quoted it endlessly. I distinctly remember renting this tape, maybe slightly nervously due to the title, and being utterly floored by Ramsey’s performance and the film's gutsy humor. It felt like getting away with watching something slightly forbidden.
Throw Momma from the Train holds up remarkably well, primarily thanks to its trio of central performances and its commitment to its dark premise. Billy Crystal is the perfect comedic foil, Danny DeVito shines as both actor and first-time director, and Anne Ramsey delivers an all-time iconic comedic villain turn that is simply unforgettable. It expertly parodies Hitchcock while carving out its own unique space in the 80s comedy landscape. Some might find the tone occasionally uneven, bouncing between broad laughs and genuinely unpleasant themes, but that tightrope walk is part of its unique, enduring charm.

Why this score? The film earns high marks for its unforgettable central performances (especially Ramsey's Oscar-nominated turn), its clever premise, Danny DeVito's assured directorial debut, and its status as a defining dark comedy of the era. It's genuinely funny, quotable, and holds a unique place in 80s film history. It loses a point or so perhaps for some dated elements or moments where the tonal balance wobbles slightly, but its strengths far outweigh any minor quibbles.
Final Thought: Forget slick modern thrillers; sometimes the most memorable journeys involve a bumpy ride with a truly nightmarish mother figure and a very, very stressed-out writer. A must-watch for fans of dark 80s comedy.