Okay, picture this: You're wandering the hallowed aisles of the local video rental palace, sometime in the early 90s. The fluorescent lights hum, the smell of popcorn and plastic tape cases hangs in the air. You spot a familiar face on a cover, but... wait. Is that Marlon Brando... doing comedy? And looking suspiciously like... him? That moment of delightful cognitive dissonance perfectly captures the core magic of Andrew Bergman's 1990 gem, The Freshman. This wasn't just another fish-out-of-water story; it felt like stumbling upon a secret handshake between Hollywood royalty and sheer, wonderful absurdity.
A Deal You Can't Refuse (Or Can You?)
The setup is pure, simple genius: Matthew Broderick, radiating the peak wide-eyed earnestness that made him America's sweetheart post-Ferris Bueller's Day Off (1986), plays Clark Kellogg. He’s a naive NYU film student fresh off the bus from Vermont, promptly robbed blind within minutes of arriving in the Big Apple. Desperate for cash and a foothold, he answers an ad that leads him not to some mundane office job, but to the doorstep of Carmine Sabatini – importer, businessman, and... well, let's just say he bears an uncanny resemblance to a certain cinematic Godfather. And who embodies Sabatini with world-weary charm and a twinkle in his eye? None other than Marlon Brando himself, delivering a performance that’s simultaneously a gentle parody and a masterclass in understated charisma.
It’s this central conceit – Brando essentially playing a version of Vito Corleone who insists he’s not Vito Corleone – that elevates The Freshman beyond a standard comedy. Watching Brando, this titan of dramatic acting, lean into the self-referential humour is an absolute joy. He famously took some persuading to do the film, initially balking at the script before director/writer Andrew Bergman (the sharp mind behind The In-Laws (1979) and a writer on Blazing Saddles (1974)) convinced him of its affectionate intent. Brando reportedly saw it as a chance to poke fun at his own monumental image, and his commitment sells the entire premise. There's a quiet authority, a measured delivery punctuated by subtle gestures, that makes Sabatini both imposing and weirdly paternal towards the bewildered Clark.
Endangered Species and Eccentric Charm
Broderick is the perfect foil. His Clark is smart but hopelessly out of his depth, his reactions mirroring our own disbelief as he gets drawn deeper into Sabatini's orbit. This includes tasks like picking up a "package" from the airport which turns out to be... a giant Komodo dragon. Apparently, wrangling the real lizard on set was quite the affair, requiring dedicated handlers armed with tranquilizer guns just off-camera – a slice of real-world danger adding spice to the film's charmingly bizarre plot involving endangered animals and an exclusive dining club with very particular tastes. This plot thread provides some of the film's biggest laughs and most memorable sequences, perfectly encapsulating the film's off-kilter sensibility.
Supporting players add immeasurably to the fun. Bruno Kirby, a master of harried energy (think When Harry Met Sally... or City Slickers), is fantastic as Sabatini’s perpetually exasperated nephew, Victor Ray. His rapid-fire panic and attempts to keep Clark in line (and alive) are comedy gold. Penelope Ann Miller brings sweetness and smarts as Tina, Sabatini’s daughter, who forms a connection with Clark, further complicating his already tangled situation.
Bergman's Balancing Act
What makes The Freshman truly sing is Andrew Bergman's masterful control of tone. He balances the crime elements, the screwball comedy, the character moments, and the sheer weirdness with incredible skill. The film never tips too far into outright farce or gritty crime drama; it exists in its own unique comedic space. The dialogue crackles with witty observations and understated jokes, often landing perfectly thanks to the cast's impeccable timing. It’s a film that feels intelligently written, respecting the audience's ability to get the joke without having it hammered home. Remember how refreshing that felt, finding a comedy that trusted you to keep up?
Interestingly, while critically acclaimed upon release for its cleverness and Brando's turn, The Freshman wasn't a box office juggernaut (pulling in around $21.5 million on an estimated $11 million budget). However, like so many treasures from the era, it found its devoted audience on VHS and cable, becoming a beloved 90s cult comedy. Its reputation has only grown, a testament to its unique blend of star power, sharp writing, and quirky heart. There was even a bit of behind-the-scenes drama when Brando briefly, publicly bad-mouthed the film just before release, sending the studio into a frenzy, only to later recant and praise it. Just another layer to the legend!
The Final Reel
The Freshman is more than just a high-concept gag. It's a warm, witty, and wonderfully strange comedy anchored by one of cinema's greatest actors clearly having a ball sending up his own legacy. Broderick provides the relatable heart, Kirby the manic energy, and Bergman the steady hand guiding the charming chaos. It’s a film that feels both specific to its time – that early 90s blend of sincerity and gentle satire – yet timeless in its humour and execution.
VHS Heaven Rating: 8.5/10
Justification: This score reflects the film's brilliant central premise, Marlon Brando's legendary and hilarious self-parody, Matthew Broderick's perfect naive counterpoint, and Andrew Bergman's sharp, tonally balanced direction. The clever script, strong supporting cast (especially Bruno Kirby), and genuinely unique plot involving endangered species create a consistently amusing and memorable experience. It might not be the most explosively funny comedy ever made, but its cleverness, charm, and sheer audacity earn it high marks. It loses a point perhaps for a slightly meandering pace in the middle, but the highs are incredibly high.
Final Thought: Finding The Freshman felt like discovering a rare cinematic species on the video store shelf – delightfully unexpected, surprisingly gentle, and utterly unforgettable. It's the kind of film that reminds you how much fun Hollywood could be when it dared to be clever and a little bit weird.