The Super Mario Bros. movie (the original 1993 one, not the 2023 Chris Pratt version that gave us the now-classic “Peaches” singing meme) is nearly universally reviled as one of the worst movies of all time. Rotten Tomatoes currently has it at a 29% approval rating among critics and 30% approval among regular viewers. It also bombed at the box office. Per Box Office Mojo, it made slightly over $8.5 million dollars against the production budget of $48 million. That was in 1993 money!
Yet somehow, in spite of all of the reasons why it's terrible from a creative and financial perspective, in spite of all logic, it's my 70-something-year-old mother's favorite movie.
- YouTubeyoutu.be
In an interview with The Guardian, the late Bob Hoskins, a BAFTA and Golden Globe winner, who starred in the movie answered the following speed round questions:
“What is the worst job you've done?”
“Super Mario Brothers.”
“What has been your biggest disappointment?”
“Super Mario Brothers.”
“If you could edit your past, what would you change?”
“I wouldn't do Super Mario Brothers.”
The lead star of the movie hated it, too, but he at least got paid to slog through it. So why is it that the 1993 Super Mario Bros. film is my boomer mother’s favorite movie? Maybe it was some of the lessons it taught in the movie’s plot along with the lessons learned during the making of it.
Lesson #1 - Focus is important, especially in relationships and creative pursuits
This isn't about focus in the cinematography-sense, but in terms of pursuits. In the movie, Mario and Luigi shift their focus from their plumbing business to something more important: their relationships. Both of their love interests, Daniella and Princess Daisy, are kidnapped by Koopa’s henchmen, leading them to drop focus on their plumbing jobs and follow their kidnappers into an alternate dank Blade Runner dimension with dinosaur people. One of the downfalls in Koopa’s plan to merge Dinohattan’s dimension with Earth’s was shifting his focus away from his girlfriend, Lena, who became jealous and tried to overthrow him. In the end, by focusing on the mantra “trust the fungus” our heroes are able to defeat Koopa and keep our dimensions from merging together into something off-putting, goopy, and with decent but poorly utilized practical effects.
If you’re reading this thinking that “focus” as a motif for the film is weak at best, you’d be correct. However, focus is still a lesson learned from the making of this movie.
An in-depth article in Inverse shed light on the vast number of script rewrites, random changes, and split-decisions made on a whim that made production of the movie a complete mess. An early script was co-written by Dick Clement, a person who never played a Super Mario Bros. video game. The story was then altered to be a “love story between two brothers” that was grounded in reality according to the film’s co-director Rocky Morton. Keep in mind that this is a movie intended for children inspired by a game that featured two plumbers jumping on floating platforms and anthropomorphic bipedal turtles. Then the producer had notes to make the movie more magical. Then Nintendo intervened, nearly scrapping the whole thing. Then the script was rewritten again by another set of writers. Then those writers were asked to come to set to rewrite scenes as the movie was shooting.
This haphazard focus not only moved whatever story there was into different directions and visions, but also tainted the relationships between the writers, directors, producers, Nintendo, and the actors. Had they been on the same page from the beginning, or fully compromised to one shared vision, they might not have made a masterpiece but it would have made a more focused film. Or at least a film that didn’t threaten the careers of so many people involved. The film was so unfocused that even Bob Hoskins didn’t know it was based on a video game until his kid showed him.
Lesson #2 - Know which instincts to follow (and which ones to ignore)
A throughline in the movie is Luigi following his instinct when making decisions. It starts with taking a shortcut in the plumbing truck to beat a competitor to a pipe job, continues to him pursuing Daisy both romantically and through a dimensional portal, all the way to the bittersweet ending. Following his instincts got him into trouble, but also got him into a wild— poorly written, but wild— adventure and a great love in his life.
The filmmakers, on the other hand, should’ve followed less of their instincts and more reason. Like maybe play the video game and base the film more on that while taking their ideas for a brotherly love drama or dino-dystopian sci-fi film for a separate project. Or, in the actors’ case, not get drunk between scenes.
In fact, maybe I should follow my instinct like Luigi did and abandon this entire premise to just share an actual lesson I learned that truly matters.
Final Lesson - Every movie is someone’s favorite movie.
In 1993, my mother didn’t care about how accurate or inaccurate the Mario Bros movie would be the “lore” of the games. She didn’t care about rocky storytelling, weird special effects, or the behind-the-scenes troubles. She’s not a film buff at all. She was a public school teacher that wanted to give her 10-year-old son and his kid sister a fun afternoon at the movies during summer break .
She loved how we all shared the bag of Reese's Pieces she snuck into the theater in her purse. We liked having a nice break from the heat inside a dark, air-conditioned room. She enjoyed the weird-looking Goomba creatures and how we reacted to them. She liked the slapstick moments that her kids found funny. I’m sure she probably remembered the joy in my face after the movie and asking her for quarters to play The Simpsons arcade cabinet afterward. Because she loved all of that, I love this movie, too.
The movie is great for reasons that have nothing to do with it. It’s a memory, a moment in time for her. It’s a time she remembers when her little boy was excited at the start of the summer, and when his little sister was at an age when she would just be excited because everyone around her was excited. Growing up, we didn’t make a lot of money left for vacations, trips to amusement parks, and such. But we had the movies.
From that point on, she’d bring up the Mario Bros. movie whenever a movie trailer that was similar in tone popped up on TV, Or when talking about my childhood during dinners when I flew back home to visit. The film is objectively bad by every measure, yet I can’t help but smile like a goof looking back on it.
There are several films that reach people’s hearts, regardless of their quality. There’s probably a movie you watched whenever you were sick as a kid. Or a film your grandpa liked and showed you after you promised not to tell your parents. It could be that terrible movie that was the first date you had with your now-spouse. It could even be a movie that no one has ever seen except for you and your friends because you made it. Every film is someone’s favorite.
Specifically for the 1993
Super Mario Bros. movie, I’m not alone in being a fan. While the movie isn’t available anywhere to stream (legally) as of this writing, it has enough of a cult following that a special edition 4K blu-ray was made for super fans to celebrate its 30th anniversary.
- YouTubeyoutu.be
Did I buy one of those super-expensive special edition copies of the film? No. Did I go on eBay to find a used DVD copy of the movie to give to my mom for Christmas? Definitely. And the hug and kiss I got from her after she unwrapped it was worth every $15 plus shipping.
Will she actually sit down and rewatch it? I don’t know. It frankly doesn’t matter. I don’t even know if she saw it again after we watched it together at the AMC in Southwyck Mall back in 1993. But she has the memory of that, along with the memory of me giving it to her decades later. Now, so do I. The lesson this movie taught me is that the activity usually isn't what makes a memory great, but it's the people around it that does.
Review Rating: ****
Memories of the the movies can be better than memories of the movie itself.Photo credit: Canva