There was no one quite like Rodney Dangerfield, with his gruff voice, piercing blue eyes and unique style of delivering jokes making him one of the greatest comedians of his generation – but yet, he’s somewhat faded out of the consciousness to a slight degree, being seen as a remnant of the past. This is unfortunate, since some of his work is absolutely impeccable, whether it is on stage or screen – and while many of the films he made were not particularly unique by traditional standards, they offered the kind of endearing, upbeat humour that we often look for in a film, being the proverbial “comfort comedy” that may not bring a bespoke story or revolutionary tactics, but rather offer something much more enticing – the promise of a good time. However, some of his films are better than others – Caddyshack and Back to School are bona fide classics and rest safely in the canon of great broad comedies that benefit from Dangerfield’s humourous stylings. A film like Ladybugs has unfortunately suffered a worse fate, being seen as one of the comedian’s less successful efforts, despite being more than entertaining and intriguing in its own unique way. Perhaps it doesn’t warrant a considerable re-evaluation, since there’s no doubt that Ladybugs is a relatively straightforward and conventional comedy, but it at least deserves another look in terms of how it personifies so many aspects of a solid work of humour, and gives us exactly what we pay to see, which is unfortunately not seen as a respectable trait, despite being one of the most consistent and reliable quality when it comes to such a film.

The final moment of Ladybugs tells the viewer everything they need to know about this film and how it aimed to use its star. Dangerfield, realizing that he has achieved a degree success after his plans actually worked out for once, looks directly at the camera and says “I finally got some respect”. Considering this is a twist on his famous catchphrase, it’s clear that this film is well aware of the qualities that are most associated with the person who is at the helm of the story, and was willing to play around with his persona without expecting him to change his style at all. With an actor like Dangerfield, there really isn’t any real acting happening (unless you’re looking at something like Natural Born Killers, which uses his personality in a way that is intentionally quite terrifying), with the films essentially being built around him – once you’ve seen one of his comedic performances, you’ve essentially seen them all. However, for some this may seem like a lack of range. For others, it’s a sign of consistency, and an actor knowing his limitations, and a director being able to harness his method and filter it into the specific film being made. In this regard, Ladybugs has a genuinely charming performance at its centre, and Dangerfield, as much as he relied on his iconic persona (which all reports suggest was as close to his real disposition as can be), he was always game, and brings everything to his performance without abandoning the qualities that made him such a star in the first place. Ladybugs would have worked with any comedian in the role, but there’s something about Dangerfield’s lovable and ambitious loon that makes the film so endearing, with the rest of the cast (which include great performances from the likes of Jackée Harry and Jonathan Brandis) complementing him and making the film surprisingly more interesting on a character-based level than we’d have expected at first.

There’s comfort in tradition, and Ladybugs most certainly finds the value in acknowledging that it is ultimately quite a conventional film. However, this obviously does not preclude it from being considered effective, since it finds the space to work with conventions in a very structured and interesting way. It’s a very traditional film, but not one that is necessarily lacking in terms of a story or a precise execution. The sports comedy has had countless entries, some more successful than the others – but something that nearly all of them share are a familiar structure – an outsider is brought in to coach a team, only to discover that there is some seemingly insurmountable obstacle standing in their way, but through a lot of hard work (and some carefully-conducted manipulation of the rules), they manage to emerge triumphant and prove that they were champions all along. It’s a trite narrative, and one that you can find in so many films of this kind, whether they’re inspirational dramas or irreverent comedies. There’s something about seeing incompetence translate into raw talent that ultimately wins at the end of the day that audiences seem to adore, and it’s difficult to argue with this kind of popularity. Many of us relate to the feeling of not being good enough, so to see films about people who somehow still manage to win despite not necessarily being decent at their chosen vocation feels resonant. Ladybugs uses this structure well – it doesn’t offer much, and we can easily predict how it’s going to end, but it carries that important quality of knowing that the audience is not expecting much, and understands that it’s not about the destination where the team wins, but the various twists and turns in the journey that takes them there that makes this such an entertaining and valuable film. 

Ladybugs is not a groundbreaking comedy, nor is it one that aims to redefine how we perceive the sports film genre, which has often been accused of being far too predictable, to the point where it is derided for lack of originality. There isn’t all that much to say about this outside of acknowledging how it has a good sense of humour, especially in how the third act is essentially just a series of chaotic moments leading up to the expected conclusion. It undercuts its rapid humour with a lot of heart and soul, which is where it is really successful, since if a film can’t be original, it can at least be compelling on an emotional level, and it manages to effectively provide the kind of earnest sentimentality without needing to be heavy-handed – there are a few moments of overwrought emotion, which is necessary to tie up some of the loose ends (such as the burgeoning relationship between two of the characters), but it is kept relatively restrained and straightforward, and most importantly only occurs when it is of utmost importance. As a whole, Ladybugs is a really entertaining diversion, a sweet and sentimental sports comedy with a slightly jagged edge and a terrific sense of humour. It lacks originality, but it compensates with heart – and everything else in between just gives us that distinctive feeling of warmth and joy that brings comfort and tells us that it is perfectly appropriate to find something valuable in the midst of a very conventional and traditional work.