I asked a friend recently what their all-time favourite film is. A director themselves, they named something impressively obscure, then asked me for mine. Without hesitation, I responded with the film I declare to be the greatest love story of all time. It wasn’t Sense and Sensibility, nor Casablanca, nor Titanic. No, it is ... Wayne’s World.
For those uninitiated, this 1992 film stars a pre-Austin Powers Mike Myers as Wayne Campbell, and Dana Carvey as Wayne’s best friend Garth Algar. Produced by Lorne Michaels of Saturday Night Live fame and based on an SNL sketch, it follows the two die-hard heavy metal fans who broadcast a public-access TV show called Wayne’s World out of Wayne’s parent’s basement in Aurora, Illinois.
Slimy producer Benjamin Kane (Rob Lowe) makes them an offer of $5,000 apiece for the rights to their show, while trying to steal away Wayne’s girlfriend Cassandra (Tia Carrere). The rest of the movie, in broad strokes, sees Wayne and Garth attempt to stop Benjamin’s nefarious plans and save the day.
In years gone by, I would have – and have – given a different answer as to what my favourite film is. I would have named a cult horror, or perhaps a slice-of-life indie. The truth is and has always been Wayne’s World, but I would have been embarrassed to cop to it because it’s so … light. It is earnest, and earnestness is anathema to cool. But its earnestness is intrinsic to the film, which, at its core, is a heartfelt romance.
Wayne’s World functions in much the same way as the very best of so-called chick flicks, which are fundamentally about love: romantic, yes, but also the love shared between friends. And Wayne’s World is all about love: between Wayne and his dream woman Cassandra, but also the deep and abiding platonic love shared by Wayne and Garth, and their unconditional, enduring love of music.
Wayne and Garth’s friendship is the beating heart of the movie. Socially awkward Garth’s insecurities counterbalance Wayne’s casual confidence, just as his air drumming provides the perfect backbeat for Wayne’s air guitar. When Wayne and Garth have a fight, the stakes feel higher than when Wayne and Cassandra fight. It is Garth to whom Wayne must prove his devotion, because it’s Garth who really knows Wayne. They’re both big kids; social outsiders by way of being eternal children in an adult world, who unashamedly wear their hearts on their sleeves and their fandoms on their shirts. Their friendship is both aspirational and easy. I’ll be honest – the line “OK, can I still be Garth?” never fails to brings a tear to my eye.
The two guys are fanatical about music in just the same way girls have historically been disparaged for being. They’re devoted, sometimes hysterical. They dress to emulate their heavy metal heroes and they go backstage just to get a glimpse of their idol Alice Cooper. When he tries to engage them in an affable conversation about the history of Milwaukee, they collapse at his feet, crying, “We’re not worthy.” They’re like girls proclaiming their adoration for the Beatles. As a girl watching Wayne’s World, I felt my own fanatical tendencies were validated by their unadulterated displays of enthusiasm.
Wayne’s World was directed by Penelope Spheeris, most famous for the seminal punk and metal documentary trilogy The Decline of Western Civilization and coming-of-age drama Suburbia. Her presence behind the camera lends Wayne’s World serious music credibility and perhaps contributes to why it feels like we could be watching two girls, or two people of any gender, who just happen to be named Wayne and Garth. It’s not a movie for boys: it’s a movie for fans, for lovers. It’s silly, funny and, yes, light. I’ve seen it more than 20 times and I’ll keep watching it until the day I die, because I love it and I’m no longer embarrassed to admit it. We’re living through heavy times, and a movie about two people who love heavy metal provides just the reprieve we need. Party on.
Katharine Pollock is the author of Her Fidelity, out now (Vintage Australia, $32.99).
