A Fish Called Wanda 1988

When a quartet of conniving bank robbers pulls the perfect crime, the only variables left to chance are each other. This crooked crew has barely finished counting their profits before the backstabs and double-crosses begin, and amidst all that chaos, a depressed court barrister, a wicked old widow and a beloved pet angelfish are also sucked into the vacuum.

John Cleese is credited as both co-writer and co-director, and though he freely admits he did little of either, his fingerprints are nevertheless all over the film. Wanda is quintessentially funny in the classic Monty Python style, with boundless energy and a silly, black sense of humor that holds nothing sacred. With Cleese playing a relatively straight role and Michael Palin rendered all but mute by a speech impediment (a supporting part which he still makes wickedly funny), it falls to Kevin Kline and Jamie Lee Curtis to provide the bulk of the laughs. They both deliver in spades, upping their game to impress the past masters, but it’s Kline’s ridiculously idiosyncratic, deeply insecure hitman that most stands out. He’s so desperate, so innately weird, that it’s impossible to turn away, or even quit snickering.

This was way, way funnier than I’d remembered. A few bits fall on the wrong side of the silliness spectrum, and the ending feels overthought, but that’s a small price to pay. A great example that, even in the late ‘80s, the Python vein of humor was still very much alive and well.