I was sitting in the passenger seat of my friend George’s car as we drove down Highway 11 toward Bracebridge on Oct. 3, 2023, past trees beginning their autumnal transition. We had just finished interviewing some dear family friends at their beautiful cottage on Skeleton Lake — the first of many for a feature-length documentary about my dad, John Candy.
At the time, the project was untitled. The only name floating around was “I Like Me,” and I wasn’t sure if it felt right. Did my dad like himself the way his character, the affable Del Griffith from “Planes, Trains and Automobiles,” liked himself? There was so much I still didn’t know, but one thing was already clear: I was at the beginning of a long, emotional journey; a large-scale deep dive into my dad’s life, career and legacy.
As George and I continued down the highway, we encountered something magical. Up ahead, I spotted a familiar-looking station wagon sitting on the flatbed of a tow truck.
It was an almost perfect replica of the fictional Wagon the iconic automobile from the 1983 film “National Lampoon’s Vacation,” complete with Ontario license plate reading “C GRSWLD.”
I knew in that moment that it was a cosmic greeting from my dad — a nod, a simple thank you to his family for helping him finish his story.
A typical interview conducted by the film’s director, Colin Hanks, lasted a few hours. I would sit huddled with my notebook and listen, jotting down the phrases coming from my dad’s closest family, friends and colleagues, including Dave Thomas, Robin Duke, Catherine O’Hara and Martin Short.
“Elephant’s memory,” “anxiety attack” and “didn’t suffer fools” are just a few of the notes I scribbled in my pages.
My dad has been gone for over 30 years, gone from my life in physical form, yet during this process it hit me that we have so much in common. I found myself relating to many traits and quirks of his, some of which I was hearing about for the first time. His old high school friend Terry Enright explained that my dad would always be late to things: “We called him ‘No Show,’” he said with a big grin.
If you were to interview my best friends, they would say, “Chris is and always has been 20 minutes late to everything” — they call it “Candy time.” This is not something I’m proud of, but knowing we have this in common makes me feel closer to my dad, a kinship.
I found out that my dad was shy in high school — so was I! He was also stubborn, just like me. Most poignant was something I already knew, but this time it hit a little harder: He lost his dad when he was five; I lost mine when I was eight.
I was in the third grade. My school’s talent show had taken place the week before; I’d performed the Weird Al Yankovic song “Traffic Jam,” and the cardboard cut-outs of cars that my mom and I had made for it were still leaned up against the classroom wall. (My dad couldn’t make it; he was on location in Durango, Mexico.)
When Father Donie pulled me out of class that day, I thought he was going to compliment me on my performance! He was an artist after all, and a friend of my mom’s.
He walked with me and my sister down to the rectory. We saw our dad’s assistant, Bob Crane, sobbing. We turned the corner into the priest’s office, and my mom was there. She told us that our dad had died.
This documentary cracks open my dad’s childhood and the trauma of losing his father at such an early age. It tells the story of how it thrust him into early adulthood, how he dealt with it, how he organized his pain and how that pain presented in his body and mind. How he took care of everyone else before he would take care of himself.
During production in Toronto, we traced his footsteps, visiting the movie theatres he frequented and the places he called home. I have always felt his energy when I walk the streets of this city.
Every time I’m near the SkyDome, now Rogers Centre, I think of how my father walked the field during his time as the Argonauts’ owner, feeling the joy of success and accomplishment. His nickname was Johnny Toronto, and he truly lived up to it.
As the movie took shape, I watched my dad’s life being reconstructed before my eyes. It was a strange, unique experience that taught me there is not only a genetic inheritance from our parents but a psychological one as well, and that to grow in this lifetime is a process with no end.
In my dad’s absence, I had always longed for his guidance; in a way, I felt I was granted my wish.
When I watched the final cut of the film, I realized that the title “I Like Me” was the perfect fit. Not only is it a line of dialogue from the genius mind of my dad’s best friend, John Hughes (a man I also miss dearly), but it’s a true statement.
John Candy liked himself. His friends liked him, his family liked him — he was the real article. What you saw was what we got.
The film will be available to stream everywhere on Prime Video on Oct. 10, but first it will have its world premiere at the Toronto International Film Festival, on opening night. I see it as the swan song my dad deserves — one last big and beautiful movie starring John Candy.
