Kevin, Stop Trying to Make Us Watch Animal House

About once a month, my friends Lisa and Bill Fun host a movie night for our group of about fifteen people. They ask for movie suggestions, everyone votes, and we gather around to watch whatever wins.

Every single time, Kevin suggests Animal House.

Every single time, it irks me.

I cannot stand that movie.

Animal House, released in 1978, is an American comedy starring Tim Matheson, Donald Sutherland, Karen Allen, Kevin Bacon—who I adore and follow on Instagram—and John Belushi.

It is one of those movies I am supposed to think is hilarious.

Movie critic Roger Ebert described Animal House as “one of the funniest movies since Mel Brooks' The Producers” (Ebert). I have seen The Producers. I think it’s hilarious. I also think Ebert must have been smoking something à la Cheech and Chong when he watched Animal House.

Since it had been years since I had watched the movie, when I saw this challenge on Vocal and immediately knew I was going to write about it, I decided to give it another chance. I watched it on Peacock, which I get for free with my Xfinity internet.

It took me five days to finish.

Not because I was busy. Not because I didn't have time. I simply could only tolerate the movie in small doses—ten minutes here, fifteen minutes there.

That should have been my first clue that I was not going to experience the cultural revelation so many other people apparently have. I have been known to immediately rewatch a movie if I enjoy it. When my daughter and I saw Clint Eastwood's Jersey Boys in the theaters, we didn't exit after the credits. We stayed and watched it again. Hand to God! 

I was eight years old when Animal House came out. I didn't see it until I was a teenager, but I didn’t think it was funny then.

When I began looking for descriptions of the movie's plot, I repeatedly encountered phrases like “youthful rebellion against authority” and descriptions of the Delta Tau Chi fraternity as “unruly,” “carefree,” and “chaotic” (EBSCO Research, 2022).

That is one way to describe it.

My description would be somewhat less flattering: a group of young men spend their time drinking, behaving badly, antagonizing their college dean, and trying to have sex with women.

We have spent nearly fifty years calling this a celebration of youthful rebellion when what it really celebrates is male entitlement disguised as rebellion.

But what exactly are they rebelling against?

They want to drink. They want to party. They want to have sex. They want to destroy things. And, most importantly, they don't want to be told no.

There is something appealing about refusing to conform when the system deserves to be challenged. But Animal House rarely gives its heroes anything meaningful to rebel against. Their rebellion is primarily the freedom to behave badly without consequences.

And apparently, we're supposed to find that charming.

In fact, the Dean's desire to get control of the fraternity isn't entirely unreasonable. The Deltas are irresponsible and destructive. Their response isn't to prove him wrong. It's to become even more irresponsible and destructive.

They're not fighting authority.

They're fighting consequences.

But what really turned me off was how the girls and women are treated. The women in Animal House are there as girlfriends or sexual conquests. The movie repeatedly treats their lack of agency as part of the joke.

In one scene, Pinto, played by Tom Hulce—excellent in Amadeus and Parenthood—debates whether he should have sex with a girl who has passed out. The movie literalizes his conflict by placing an angel and devil on his shoulders. The devil tells him to “fuck her,” “suck her tits,” because “she wants it.”

She is mostly naked and unconscious. 

She cannot consent.

It gets better. Near the end of the movie, that same girl, who is in bed with Pinto, confesses that she is thirteen years old.

Ha ha!! He is about to fuck a child.

In another scene, Otter reads about a young woman who has died and then lies to her roommate, claiming that he had been dating the dead woman. His goal is to use her death as a story to gain sympathy and ultimately, sexual access to her roommate.

This is blatant manipulation, and yet his behavior isn't treated as evidence that he is disturbed or morally repugnant. It's a joke. Something for the audience to laugh at.

The Deltas aren't misunderstood young men fighting against an unfair system. They're young men who believe their desires should matter more than everyone else's boundaries.

Then there is John "Bluto" Blutarsky played by John Belushi.

I know I'm probably going to get some hate for saying this, but I have never understood why John Belushi became such a comedic icon.

I know. Blasphemy.

Belushi's performance as Bluto in Animal House is considered legendary. The character has become one of the most recognizable comic figures in movie history. Bluto yelling “Toga! Toga!” has become one of the movie’s most recognizable moments. People talk about Bluto as though he is the embodiment of everything that makes Animal House great.

I don't see it.

Bluto barely speaks. He makes exaggerated stupid faces. His clothing is dirty. He eats and drinks excessively. He behaves disgustingly. He screams. He destroys things. He falls down. He is essentially a live-action cartoon.

He has very little character development. He doesn’t seem to have much of an inner life at all. He doesn't grow. He doesn't learn anything. He doesn't become more complicated.

He's just Bluto from beginning to end.

You may be thinking, well maybe you just don’t appreciate the comedy of that era. If you are, you are wrong. I love Saturday Night Live, which I am mentioning here because Belushi was one of the original Not Ready for Prime Time Players. But when I think about the original cast, Gilda Radner is the person I remember most fondly.

What I loved about Gilda was that even when she was being completely ridiculous, which was most of the time, there was a person with heart underneath the joke. Her characters—Roseanne Roseannadanna, Lisa Loopner, and Emily Litella—had personalities, insecurities, voices, and odd little details that made them feel human.

I keep looking for the person underneath the performance in Bluto, but I can’t find it. I find a guy making faces, yelling, eating, drinking, and behaving badly. He is loud and obnoxious for the sake of being loud and obnoxious.

I realize that sounds like a ridiculous way to evaluate someone who is considered a comedy legend. But that's my experience of watching John Belushi.

Iconic isn't the same thing as funny.

What bothers me most about the movie's reputation is that it's not simply remembered as a raunchy comedy from 1978. It is regarded as a classic. We are supposed to think of the Deltas as lovable troublemakers. Their antics are supposed to appear fun and funny.

I don't object to crude humor. I don't object to raunchy comedies. I don't even object to movies about immature people behaving badly (I peed my pants watching Horrible Bosses). I will admit that I watched Sausage Party and thought it was funny. Gross at times, but funny. A comedy can be vulgar, offensive, ridiculous, and still be brilliant (I’m not saying Sausage Party was brilliant, but I currently can’t think of an example).

What I object to is the idea that bad behavior is automatically funny because the people doing it are supposed to be lovable rebels or underdogs, which the Deltas are not. 

Maybe Animal House was groundbreaking in 1978. Maybe its influence on comedy is enormous. Maybe John Belushi's performance changed the way people thought about physical comedy.

But after five days of watching Animal House ten minutes at a time, I can still say I do not get the hype. Maybe I shouldn’t be worrying about not liking Animal House, but why Kevin wants to watch it so badly.

If he brings it up again, I am not only voting no, I am bribing others to vote no.

References

Ebert, R. (2024). National Lampoon’s Animal House movie review (1978) | Roger Ebert. In Rogerebert.com. Roger Ebert. https://www.rogerebert.com/reviews/national-lampoons-animal-house-1978

National Lampoon’s Animal House (film) | research starters | EBSCO Research. (2022). In EBSCO. https://www.ebsco.com/research-starters/film/national-lampoons-animal-house-film