Stop it.
So here’s to you, Lloyd. Here’s to the golden mane. And here’s to the poor, brave soul who had to wash that wig at the end of every shooting day.
That is the magic of the character. Lloyd is immune to shame. And nothing on planet Earth screams "immune to shame" louder than a home-bleached, half-grown-out, rattail-adjacent mullet. 1. The Snowball Fight. Lloyd gets hit in the face with a snowball. Does he wipe it off? No. He lets it freeze to his hair. For the next several scenes, he has a shard of ice glued to his bangs. Most actors would fight for continuity. Jim Carrey, and by extension Lloyd, realized that a mullet is a tool . It’s a shelf. It holds ice. It holds dreams. It holds the sheer audacity to exist. dumb and dumber mullet
Let’s be honest with ourselves for a second. We have spent three decades debating the ending of The Sopranos . We have written dissertations on the color theory in Paris, Texas . We have analyzed the lighting in Barry Lyndon until our eyes bled.
Lloyd Christmas looked at the 90s and said, "No. I choose 1985. I choose ignorance. I choose bliss." Stop it
Think about the arc of the film. Lloyd is a limo driver who falls for a woman (Mary Swanson) who leaves a briefcase full of ransom money in his car. A normal person calls the police. Lloyd drives halfway across the country to return it, hoping to get a date.
And totally redeemed the entire concept of men’s grooming. And here’s to the poor, brave soul who
We haven’t. And that is a crime against film criticism.