Weird (2022), dir. by Eric Appel. Streaming at home, Wednesday, November 16.

I am surprised to admit that I really enjoyed the first 40 minutes of the 108 minute Weird Al Yankovic bio-pic, Weird. I appreciated that it’s a sharp parody of rock bio-pics, that it cast a bunch of comedians in small roles (that they seemed to enjoy) and that the set pieces are wonderful–there’s a pool party scene at Dr. Demento’s house, inspired by Boogie Nights, with Jack Black as Wolfman Jack, and I could watch that whole scene a dozen times.

But I would not say that Weird is like the bio-pic version of a Weird Al Yankovic song… no, it’s more like a bio-pic version of a Weird Al Yankovic album. Did anyone ever really buy an album of Yankovic’s? I guess they must have–I read that his later concerts take “deep dives” into his oeuvre. And I gotta say, that’s really fucking weird. I mean, when I was growing up, I was amused by Yankovic, and I was glad that he existed, and laughed at the songs I heard on the radio or MTV. Once, maybe. After that, didn’t “I Lost on Jeopardy” become as tedious to you as it did to me upon multiple spins? The thought of a person going any deeper than, say, “Eat It”, strikes me as that individual needing to find other, more interesting sources of comedy. I mean, I keep reading about musicians who loved being covered by Yankovic, but wouldn’t that affection have been limited to the parody singles that actually charted and got airplay that they went crazy for? The album that “Eat It” comes from, Weird Al Yankovic in 3-D, looks utterly insufferable to sit through. Do we really need a “Safety Dance” parody? No one reminisces about his covers of the Police’s “King of Pain” or Survivor’s “Eye of the Tiger”, right? A little bit of Weird Al goes a long, long way, and that’s definitely the case with Weird, too.

But, I’m happy that people love his work even if I can’t remotely understand their profound adoration. Weird is fun, it’s worth watching even if it flags in the second half, it’s a shame it couldn’t be seen in theaters with a bunch of other Yankovicians (or whatever they call themselves, if they call themselves anything), and Daniel Radcliffe is way too ripped for comfort.