Wayne's World

Wayne's World occupies a curious position in the annals of 1990s comedy: a film adapted from an SNL sketch that somehow managed to preserve all the worst instincts of its source material while adding nothing of substance. Penelope Spheeris, a documentary filmmaker of genuine cultural significance, finds herself shepherding two white men and their basement talk show through a plot that amounts to little more than a vehicle for product placement and celebrity cameos. The film's central tension, such as it is, involves a sleazy executive's desire to steal both the show and Cassandra, the obligatory female character who exists primarily to be desired, rescued, and ultimately possessed by the protagonist. Her status as a rock musician does nothing to elevate her from the role of prize.

The comedy derives almost entirely from references to 1980s metal culture and the absurdity of public access television, neither of which carries any social consciousness whatsoever. There is no interrogation of class, gender, or power dynamics; the film simply celebrates the triumph of the underdog metal fans over the corporate machine while completely failing to recognize that its own narrative replicates the exact dynamics it claims to mock. Cassandra sings, looks beautiful, and waits to be won. The supporting female characters exist as objects in the margins. The entire cast reflects a thoroughly homogeneous 1992 Hollywood sensibility, which we must note is not in itself damning, but rather simply unremarkable for the era.

What distinguishes Wayne's World from a genuinely unreflective comedy is its complete lack of any attempt whatsoever at progressive sensibility. It does not try and fail to be inclusive. It simply does not try. This is not a mark against it as entertainment, but it is a mark of its historical moment, and there is something almost refreshing about its refusal to pretend otherwise.