The original two Bill & Ted
films are among my favourite
go-to feelgood movies. Bogus Journey,
in particular, I absolutely love, even though conventional wisdom has
it that it's weaker than the first. Well, Excellent
Adventure has more George
Carlin, but it's not got William Sadler as Death, and the ending of
the second film is such a beautifully uplifting crescendo that it
cannot help but bring a happy tear to my eye.
So to
hear the third film announced after all this time brought both
excitement and trepidation. On the one hand, I couldn't wait to see
the characters again (fondly remembered animated series and recent
Boom! Studios notwithstanding, it's been almost thirty years). On the
other, could a new film really capture the glorious
late-80s/early-90s slacker magic of the originals, especially since
the leads are now well into their fifties.
The
solution is a stroke of genius – have Bill and Ted as middle-aged
washouts. I always find it kind of embarrassing seeing ageing rockers
performing reunion gigs or taking part in the Royal Gala. There's a
point at which you just can't recapture your successful youth, and it
just looks sad. Which is exactly the story to Bill &
Ted Face the Music. While
they're ostensibly fighting to save the future of the universe, it's
their own lives and futures Bill and Ted are really fighting for. Not
only are their wives (recast again)
on the verge of leaving them, they risk losing the love of their kids
as well. The script was apparently being worked on as long ago as
2010, but the extra ten years makes it all the more effective.
Of
course, this film does undercut the ending of Bogus
Journey. That movie ended with
Bill and Ted having mastered their art, married to the princesses and
with Little Bill and Little Ted in tow. The alien scientist Station,
their good robot selves and Death himself were part of the band. Wyld
Stallyns performed their first triumphant show, broadcast worldwide,
kick-starting not only an illustrious career but also peace
throughout the universe. To have that ending cut down is galling. No
wonder Bill and Ted feel as lost as they do, nearly thirty years on,
their careers down the pan and having still not written the song that
unites the world. Not only is the utopian future, founded upon their
music, under threat, but the paradox is causing all of space, time
and reality to collapse. Just to up the stakes.
Normally
we'd rely on Rufus to help save the day, but the great George Carlin
sadly died twelve years ago. He does have a presence in the film,
thanks to a rather touching moment where his hologram appears next to
the time-travelling phonebooth as an object of historical interest
(with a decent impersonation of his voice to allow some new
dialogue). I still think Pam Grier should have played him, but we
can't have everything.
Fortunately,
Rufus's daughter Kelly (named after Carlin's own daughter, a huge
deal in her own right, who makes a quick cameo in the movie) travels
back from the 28th
century to lend her aid to the Stallyns. It would have been easy to
cast a man to play a pastiche of Carlin's Rufus, but Kelly, played by
Kristen Schaal, is a different sort of saviour. It also happens that
her mother (played by Holland Taylor with imperious arrogance) is the
Great Leader, the ruler of the universe, who will stop at nothing to
nip the problem in the bud, even if this means killing Bill and Ted
to kick off a posthumous hit.
Winter
and Reeves are still perfect as Bill and Ted. They were never the
world's greatest actors (let's be fair here), but they never had to
be to make the pretty shallow characters work, and here they give
them just enough new depth to make the shallows all the more
loveable. Their own solution to the problem – to travel into their
own futures and get the song after they've written it – is as
ingeniously stupid as they've ever been. Unfortunately, they have to
drop the princesses in the middle of marriage counselling, triggering
the final collapse of their relationships. Not only do they have to
deal with increasingly warped and bitter versions of their own selves
as they travel forwards in time, but Joanna and Elizabeth eventually
get hold of the time booth and travel into their own past to try to
find a better life themselves. The mission to save their marriages
becomes even more important to Bill and Ted than the stability of the
space/time continuum. It helps that Elizabeth and Joanna (Erinn Hayes
and Jayma Mays, respectively) are given some actual character this
time round, and you can't help but root for them as well as they try
to find a version of reality where they can be content.
The
best thing about the movie, though, is Bill and Ted's daughters.
Billie Logan and Thea Preston, aka Little
Bill and Little Ted, are the absolute stand-out characters and carry
much of the film. Predictably, there were plenty of loud-mouthed
idiots on the internet complaining about forced diversity and SJWs
and the like, because how dare the creators of the franchise decide
to make two characters who were briefly, arguably, presented as male
into women? (Anyway, as writers Chris Matheson and Ed Solomon pointed
out, the babies in Bogus Journey were
girls.) Making the second leading duo of the film women adds some
balance (as does giving the princesses some personality), but more
importantly, Billie and Thea are brilliant characters. Thea is played
by Australian star Samara Weaving, while Billie is played by
up-and-coming NB actor Brigitte Lundy-Taylor. They're excellent
characters; essentially like their fathers, but smarter, more
proactive, and unstoppable in their mission to form the greatest band
in history to support their dads' ultimate song.
Billie
and Thea steal every scene they're in, and add a freshness to a film
that could otherwise easily have been nothing more than a nostalgia
fest. They're gorgeous, hilarious women who manage to be Bill and Ted
perhaps even more than the older Winters and Reeves. Lundy-Taylor in
particular is magnetic and somehow manages to completely recreate the
Reeves's performance from the originals – she's even perfectly
performs his walk – while adding something totally new. The girls
make their own trip, backwards through time, recruiting some familiar
and not-so-familiar faces from music history. This strand of the
movie is the most like the first film, without ever feeling like a
retread.
Unfortunately
for all concerned, the Great Leader has sent a killer android after
Bill and Ted, but he isn't very good and ends up killing pretty much
everyone who gets in his way. Dennis Caleb McCoy (for that is his
name, and I fear I'm missing some reference there) is a weird
character. He's brilliantly performed by Anthony Carrigan, but he
seems to belong to a different film. In the end, though, this just
makes the neurotic robot seem more of an outsider, and he becomes a
surprisingly sympathetic character. Multiple deaths by laser bolt
naturally leads to everyone being sucked down to Hell, where
eventually the Stallyns reform, after Bill and Ted make up with
Death, who's been sulking since they kicked him out of the band over
a law suit and forty-minute bass solos. The only character really
missing from the band is Station, but Kid Cudi (as himself) oddly
fills the genius otherworldly scientist role.
The
entire film is visually astonishing, but the finale is spectacular.
The climax to the story is both utterly predictable (the reveal of
the great song and its performers is obvious from very early on) and
truly satisfying. It's not quite the feel-good ending of Bogus
Journey, but it's not far off,
and yes, I shed a little tear of nostalgia-tinged happiness. Bill
& Ted Face the Music doesn't
quite hit the highs of its predecessors, but it's still a most
excellent adventure.