Not nearly as uproarious as I remember it being upon its release, when I would have seen it around the age of 10 or 11, Mr. Mom nevertheless has an endearing time-capsule quality as a slapstick consideration of gender roles in the early 1980s. When Michael Keaton’s auto executive gets laid off, his wife, played by Teri Garr, hangs up her apron as a mother of three young kids to take a job in advertising. He, in turn, becomes Mr. Mom. I wish the screenplay, by John Hughes, didn’t spend quite so much time on the couple’s respective romantic rivals (their situation offers plenty of friction without that). And the gags, staged by director Stan Dragoti, are loud and hokey, mostly unworthy of Keaton in his prime. Yet Keaton still manages to inject certain scenes with dangerous electricity—greeting his wife’s snide boss (Martin Mull) at the door with a chain saw and a glint in his eye, for instance—while also lending an air of pathos to a character who represented the larger anxiety over the job market at the time. As for Garr, she’s perfect, of course, bringing some satirical, Tootsie vibes to the proceedings. I wish Mr. Mom had that film’s sociopolitical bite, but as is, it still registers as fairly progressive — even coming to the anti-capitalist conclusion that both genders are being expected to work too much.
(9/6/2024)
