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I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but everything kind of sucks right now. Fascist governments are on the rise, a climate crisis looms, and those with the power to solve these problems are utterly uninterested in doing so. In times like these, people turn to utopian fiction to make sense of the world around them and find a way forward. But no piece of art produced in the past few years, no novel, no film, has emerged as the great utopian work of our cultural moment.
Because the great utopian work of our cultural moment already exists, and it came out 30 years ago.
In 1989, the Cold War was coming to a close. Throughout most of the 20th century, the world had teetered on the precipice of doom: the two most powerful nations in the world possessed, between them, enough firepower to destroy the Earth several times over--and they were at each other’s throats. Then it was over, and despite the fact that the world had failed to physically end, there was still a sense that a kind of apocalypse had occurred. Something had died. Something new was coming.
And on February 17, 1989, Bill & Ted’s Excellent Adventure was released in theatres.
Despite its financial success and enduring popularity, Bill & Ted’s Excellent Adventure wasn’t universally well-received at the time. Many critics were quick to call it stupid, juvenile, and unfunny; Chris Willman, writing for the Los Angeles Times, declared it an “unabashed glorification of dumbness for dumbness’ sake” (and clearly considered that a bad thing). Even today’s critics, in nostalgically praising the film, usually regard it as a silly, fun romp of a movie without much to say about anything.
Well, I’m here to tell you Bill & Ted’s Excellent Adventure has something to say, and what it has to say is important.
Bill & Ted’s Excellent Adventure starts in much the same way as The Fellowship of the Ring: with a hastily tacked-on prologue that’s only there because some executive wanted it. A character named Rufus (played by George Carlin, coolest guy on Earth circa 1989) explains that he lives in a utopian world under existential threat. Rufus needs to go back in time to ensure that the founders of his society, Bill S. Preston, Esq. and “Ted” Theodore Logan, fulfill their destinies--otherwise, his world will never exist.
So here’s the thing about Bill S. Preston, Esq. and “Ted” Theodore Logan: they’re dumb as posts. They think Joan of Arc was Noah’s wife. They were only recently disabused of the notion that Julius Caesar was a “salad dressing dude.” What they lack in intellect, though, they more than compensate for in passion; they’re both huge metal fans. And all they want to do with their lives is make the music they love.
However, due to their disinterest in school, they’re in danger of flunking out. If that happens, Ted’s dad will send him to a military academy in Alaska, separating him from Bill forever and ensuring Rufus’ utopian world will never come to be. Bill and Ted have one chance: if they get an A+ on their final history report, it’ll pull their grades up just enough to pass and graduate. And that’s when Rufus shows up to help, with a time-traveling phone booth.
No, I don’t think the filmmakers had ever heard of Doctor Who. It was originally a van, not a phone booth. Look, just… just go with it.
Bill and Ted spend pretty much the rest of the movie traveling through time and picking up historical figures to help them with their history report. Along the way, we get to see why their friendship is so special it’s worth inventing time travel for.
In film, friendships between so-called Great Men are usually stoic and sterile. Bill and Ted, by contrast, are openly affectionate and genuinely enjoy each other’s company. They’re free with compliments and praise, and--aside from one exchange the actors now regret--unconcerned with how blatantly romantic their friendship seems to be. Throughout the movie, they joke and play around and generally have the time of their lives.
Moreover, the way Bill and Ted treat other people is incredibly refreshing in our modern pop-culture world full of asshole geniuses. While working on their report outside the Circle K, Bill and Ted ask random passersby for assistance, freely acknowledging that anyone they meet might have something valuable to contribute. Whenever someone asks for their help, they happily agree. While they openly check out the beautiful women they meet, it’s always with sincere delight rather than toxic entitlement. If there are titties to be looked at, they will look at the titties; if there aren’t any titties, then no big deal.
Throughout their adventure, it’s stressed that Bill and Ted need to stay together--for the sake of their history report, and for the sake of the future. Together, they can achieve so much more than either of them could alone.
And what do they achieve together?
About halfway through the movie, the phone booth malfunctions and deposits Bill and Ted in Rufus’ utopian future. I’m just going to link the video here, because words don’t really do the scene justice:
Bill and Ted can clearly tell how important this moment is, even if they’re not sure why. But even when the people of this world treat them with reverence, they respond with humility. In an off-the-cuff attempt at a grand speech, Bill and Ted first speak the words that--as established earlier in the movie--have become the founding ideals of this future society:
“Be excellent to each other.”
“Party on, dudes.”
In 1989, in a world defined by decades of endless wartime, Bill & Ted’s Excellent Adventure proposed that the perfect society is not one created by intellectual giants, or titans of industry. Its utopia is created by the driving principles of unconditional kindness and shameless joy. Furthermore, at the end of the movie, Rufus explains that the music Bill and Ted will one day create eventually becomes the ultimate equalizer. It connects every living being--and that connection, above all else, is what brings the universe into harmony.
Bill & Ted’s Excellent Adventure is not a celebration of intellect. It’s better than that: it’s a celebration of love, and art, and how those things connect us all. And in 2019, when we can tell that something has died and something new is coming, love and art and connection can save us. They are what we can use to create our newborn world.
And so, in 2019, I say this:
Be excellent to each other… and party on, dudes.
Because the great utopian work of our cultural moment already exists, and it came out 30 years ago.
In 1989, the Cold War was coming to a close. Throughout most of the 20th century, the world had teetered on the precipice of doom: the two most powerful nations in the world possessed, between them, enough firepower to destroy the Earth several times over--and they were at each other’s throats. Then it was over, and despite the fact that the world had failed to physically end, there was still a sense that a kind of apocalypse had occurred. Something had died. Something new was coming.
And on February 17, 1989, Bill & Ted’s Excellent Adventure was released in theatres.
Despite its financial success and enduring popularity, Bill & Ted’s Excellent Adventure wasn’t universally well-received at the time. Many critics were quick to call it stupid, juvenile, and unfunny; Chris Willman, writing for the Los Angeles Times, declared it an “unabashed glorification of dumbness for dumbness’ sake” (and clearly considered that a bad thing). Even today’s critics, in nostalgically praising the film, usually regard it as a silly, fun romp of a movie without much to say about anything.
Well, I’m here to tell you Bill & Ted’s Excellent Adventure has something to say, and what it has to say is important.
Bill & Ted’s Excellent Adventure starts in much the same way as The Fellowship of the Ring: with a hastily tacked-on prologue that’s only there because some executive wanted it. A character named Rufus (played by George Carlin, coolest guy on Earth circa 1989) explains that he lives in a utopian world under existential threat. Rufus needs to go back in time to ensure that the founders of his society, Bill S. Preston, Esq. and “Ted” Theodore Logan, fulfill their destinies--otherwise, his world will never exist.
So here’s the thing about Bill S. Preston, Esq. and “Ted” Theodore Logan: they’re dumb as posts. They think Joan of Arc was Noah’s wife. They were only recently disabused of the notion that Julius Caesar was a “salad dressing dude.” What they lack in intellect, though, they more than compensate for in passion; they’re both huge metal fans. And all they want to do with their lives is make the music they love.
However, due to their disinterest in school, they’re in danger of flunking out. If that happens, Ted’s dad will send him to a military academy in Alaska, separating him from Bill forever and ensuring Rufus’ utopian world will never come to be. Bill and Ted have one chance: if they get an A+ on their final history report, it’ll pull their grades up just enough to pass and graduate. And that’s when Rufus shows up to help, with a time-traveling phone booth.
No, I don’t think the filmmakers had ever heard of Doctor Who. It was originally a van, not a phone booth. Look, just… just go with it.
Bill and Ted spend pretty much the rest of the movie traveling through time and picking up historical figures to help them with their history report. Along the way, we get to see why their friendship is so special it’s worth inventing time travel for.
In film, friendships between so-called Great Men are usually stoic and sterile. Bill and Ted, by contrast, are openly affectionate and genuinely enjoy each other’s company. They’re free with compliments and praise, and--aside from one exchange the actors now regret--unconcerned with how blatantly romantic their friendship seems to be. Throughout the movie, they joke and play around and generally have the time of their lives.
Moreover, the way Bill and Ted treat other people is incredibly refreshing in our modern pop-culture world full of asshole geniuses. While working on their report outside the Circle K, Bill and Ted ask random passersby for assistance, freely acknowledging that anyone they meet might have something valuable to contribute. Whenever someone asks for their help, they happily agree. While they openly check out the beautiful women they meet, it’s always with sincere delight rather than toxic entitlement. If there are titties to be looked at, they will look at the titties; if there aren’t any titties, then no big deal.
Throughout their adventure, it’s stressed that Bill and Ted need to stay together--for the sake of their history report, and for the sake of the future. Together, they can achieve so much more than either of them could alone.
And what do they achieve together?
About halfway through the movie, the phone booth malfunctions and deposits Bill and Ted in Rufus’ utopian future. I’m just going to link the video here, because words don’t really do the scene justice:
Bill and Ted can clearly tell how important this moment is, even if they’re not sure why. But even when the people of this world treat them with reverence, they respond with humility. In an off-the-cuff attempt at a grand speech, Bill and Ted first speak the words that--as established earlier in the movie--have become the founding ideals of this future society:
“Be excellent to each other.”
“Party on, dudes.”
In 1989, in a world defined by decades of endless wartime, Bill & Ted’s Excellent Adventure proposed that the perfect society is not one created by intellectual giants, or titans of industry. Its utopia is created by the driving principles of unconditional kindness and shameless joy. Furthermore, at the end of the movie, Rufus explains that the music Bill and Ted will one day create eventually becomes the ultimate equalizer. It connects every living being--and that connection, above all else, is what brings the universe into harmony.
Bill & Ted’s Excellent Adventure is not a celebration of intellect. It’s better than that: it’s a celebration of love, and art, and how those things connect us all. And in 2019, when we can tell that something has died and something new is coming, love and art and connection can save us. They are what we can use to create our newborn world.
And so, in 2019, I say this:
Be excellent to each other… and party on, dudes.
