In the vast landscape of 90s cinema, certain movies capture our hearts and stand the test of time, while others, despite their charm, fade into obscurity. Chris Columbus’s 1991 film, Only the Lonely, starring the beloved John Candy, falls somewhat into the latter category. Sandwiched between the blockbuster Home Alone movies, this romantic comedy offers a unique blend of humor and heart, showcasing Candy’s versatility beyond comedic roles. While not a box office smash, Only the Lonely is a film ripe for rediscovery, offering a poignant and often hilarious look at loneliness, family dynamics, and the search for love.
Only the Lonely centers around Danny Muldoon (John Candy), a kind-hearted but somewhat directionless Chicago police officer living with his overbearing Irish mother, Rose (Maureen O’Hara in a memorable performance). Danny finds himself torn between his loyalty to his mother and his burgeoning romance with Theresa Luna (Ally Sheedy), a shy and sweet woman working at a funeral home. The film navigates Danny’s journey as he attempts to break free from his mother’s grasp and embrace the possibility of lasting love. But is it a path paved with roses, or thorns of regret? Let’s delve into why Only the Lonely deserves a spot in the pantheon of forgotten film gems, and why John Candy’s performance is central to its enduring appeal.
The Beauty of Brutal Honesty in Relationships
One of the refreshing aspects of Only the Lonely is its commitment to honest character interactions. In a genre often relying on misunderstandings and contrived conflicts, this film opts for a more grounded approach. We see this immediately when Danny, riddled with nerves, asks Theresa out. He doesn’t attempt to mask his anxiety; instead, he wears it on his sleeve. This vulnerability, this raw honesty, is precisely what draws Theresa to him.
[
Danny](Danny in a scene from Only the Lonely with his police partner, discussing relationship anxieties.)
The film smartly shifts focus to Theresa after their first date is set. Her quiet whisper, “Don’t screw this one up, Theresa,” is a masterstroke of character development. In that single line, Theresa transcends the typical “love interest” trope and becomes a fully realized individual with her own hopes and fears. She’s not just there to be won over by Danny; she has her own emotional landscape, making the audience instantly invested in her happiness as much as Danny’s.
Their initial date is marked by Theresa’s shyness, with Danny carrying most of the conversation. Afterwards, Danny assumes it was a failure. However, in another display of refreshing honesty, Theresa calls him back. She confesses she had a wonderful time, apologizing for her quietness and admitting that being with him makes her feel like she can overcome her shyness. Her vulnerability and directness further solidify the authenticity of their connection. She asks for patience, for another chance, and Danny, captivated by her sincerity, readily agrees.
This foundation of honesty allows their romance to develop organically. Even when doubts creep in and they struggle to articulate their emotions, it stems from genuine difficulty in expressing complex feelings, not from artificial plot devices. They aren’t playing games or evading intimacy; they are genuinely grappling with the challenges of opening up. This realistic portrayal of emotional vulnerability gives weight to their quiet moments of reflection and solitude, making their eventual reconciliation all the more rewarding. Only the Lonely understands that true romantic drama arises not from manufactured misunderstandings, but from the beautiful, messy reality of flawed individuals striving for connection and personal growth.
The Sob Assister, But Make it Male
Romantic comedies often feature the “sob sister” trope – a supportive female friend who acts as a confidante for the female lead, offering advice and a shoulder to cry on. Only the Lonely cleverly flips this convention, giving Danny a “sob assister” in the form of his police partner, played by a young Jim Belushi.
This dynamic provides a refreshing male perspective on romantic anxieties. Danny and his partner engage in open conversations about women, intimacy, and their overall well-being. These scenes are not just comedic relief; they offer genuine insights into Danny’s emotional state and his attempts to navigate the complexities of love and relationships. Adding another layer of humor, the criminals they occasionally transport in their police car even chime in with unsolicited opinions, creating a unique and amusing Greek chorus to Danny’s romantic journey. This subversion of the “sob sister” trope adds depth and humor to Danny’s character and his struggles.
A Clever Cameo from a Familiar Face
Adding to the film’s charm is a delightful cameo by Macaulay Culkin. Just two years after starring as the iconic Kevin McCallister in Home Alone, and a year after John Candy’s memorable cameo in the same film, Culkin appears briefly in Only the Lonely. He plays the mischievous nephew of Danny, appearing in a single scene as the son of Candy’s brother.
This cameo is more than just a fun Easter egg for fans of Home Alone and John Candy. It’s a nod to the collaborative spirit between Chris Columbus and John Hughes, who produced Only the Lonely. It’s a playful wink that reinforces the familial and lighthearted tone that Columbus often brings to his films, and it’s always a treat to see Culkin in his early, precocious roles.
The Unforgettable Rose Muldoon: A Mother to Loathe
While Only the Lonely excels in its portrayal of honest romance and male vulnerability, it also features a character that borders on the villainous: Danny’s mother, Rose Muldoon. Played with formidable intensity by Maureen O’Hara, Rose is not just overbearing; she is, in many ways, the embodiment of a toxic matriarch. Her character is so aggressively unlikeable that she becomes a central point of discussion when reflecting on the film. Let’s dissect the layers of Rose’s detestability:
-
Racism Rooted in Narrow-Mindedness: Rose’s worldview is shockingly limited to purebred Irishmen. Her prejudice, while seemingly directed at Greeks and Sicilians in the film, reveals a deeper, more insidious bigotry. The humor in her remarks quickly dissipates when one considers how she would react if Danny fell for someone outside of her extremely narrow definition of acceptable. It exposes a deeply ingrained xenophobia masked as comedic eccentricity.
-
A Textbook Abuser in Disguise: Rose’s behavior is a classic case study in emotional abuse. She oscillates between hurling insults and then feigning remorse, promising to change. This cycle of abuse is designed to keep Danny emotionally dependent and off-balance. Her victimhood is a manipulative tactic, deployed whenever her abusive behavior is challenged, showcasing a deeply ingrained pattern of manipulation.
-
Complete Lack of Accountability: Rose consistently deflects responsibility for her actions. The anecdote of her sabotaging her husband’s business deal is a stark example. Instead of acknowledging her role in the disaster, she resorts to righteous indignation, blaming everyone but herself. This refusal to take responsibility is a hallmark of her toxic personality and her inability to self-reflect or grow.
-
Intentional Harm Through Words and Actions: Rose’s default expression seems to be a scowl, and her words are often barbed with negativity. During a dinner meant to be pleasant with Danny and Theresa, she deliberately targets Theresa with cruel remarks. Initially, it might seem like she’s oblivious to her offensiveness, but it becomes clear that her cruelty is calculated and intentional. Even her rehearsal dinner toast to Danny and Theresa is laced with backhanded compliments, highlighting her relentless need to undermine and control.
-
Treating Loved Ones with Contempt: Danny bends over backwards to please his mother, yet Rose actively sabotages his happiness. She belittles his choices, discourages his friendships, and even promotes unhealthy habits. Her selfishness is stark; she wants Danny solely for herself, regardless of the cost to his well-being and happiness. This possessiveness explains Danny’s ingrained paranoia and anxiety whenever he is away from her influence.
Despite her deeply flawed nature, the film attempts to elicit some sympathy for Rose by the end. However, her character remains largely irredeemable. Her departure from Danny’s life is presented as a positive outcome, not because she has changed, but because Danny has finally learned to prioritize his own happiness and needs. Rose remains unrepentant and unchanged, simply becoming “someone else’s problem.”
Lonely, But Not Forgotten Anymore
Despite the frustratingly awful character of Rose Muldoon, Only the Lonely is a genuinely enjoyable film. John Candy delivers a charming and nuanced performance, showcasing his talent for portraying both comedic and vulnerable characters. Ally Sheedy is equally captivating as the shy and endearing Theresa. The script, penned by Columbus himself, is surprisingly insightful, creating characters that feel authentically human and relatable.
While Only the Lonely might not be a joke-a-minute laugh riot, it compensates with genuine heart and touching moments of drama. It’s a film that understands the nuances of loneliness and the courage it takes to overcome personal obstacles in the pursuit of love and happiness.
If you are searching for a romantic comedy with more substance and heart than the average fare, give Only the Lonely a watch. It’s a smarter, sweeter film than its initial box office performance might suggest. Sometimes, the most rewarding cinematic discoveries are found in the overlooked and underappreciated corners of film history. Rediscover Only the Lonely and experience the charm of John Candy in a role that showcases his gentle soul and comedic brilliance.
All images are the copyright of their owners.
