There are generally two broad categories of successful comedies – those made by the rambunctious young upstarts who find their primary motivation in proving their mettle as filmmakers and actors worthy to stand alongside the giants of their industry, and those produced by the seasoned veterans, people that were notable enough to sell a film entirely on the fact that it featured their participation. When it comes to a film like All of Me, it is clear which category it occupies. Directed by the legendary Carl Reiner (who was working from a screenplay by Phil Alden Robinson, which was in turn adapted from an obscure, unpublished novel entitled Me Two by Ed Davis, which has still seemingly never been released publically), and designed as a starring vehicle for two of the greatest comedians of their generation, there was very little doubt that this was always going to be an immensely compelling work, even if it was bound for success based entirely on the people responsible for its creation. Cherished as one of the best comedies of the 1980s, which is in itself quite a loaded statement considering how formative this decade was for both studio and independent comedy, All of Me has persisted as a true classic, a film that is appreciated and adored as much today as it was when it was initially released. The majority of that success has to do with the combination of self-assured comic geniuses being at the helm, and the very strange but captivating story that was fertile ground for a terrific film, regardless of which genre it occupied (although it is difficult to imagine this premise being anywhere close to as successful in any other genre than an off-the-wall dark comedy), and as a result, we have a film that is about as hilarious and compelling as it could get, with the strong humour, exceptional writing and masterful performances all being the primary reason All of Me is still so beloved, even after we have seen a rise in similarly ambitious comedies in subsequent years.

While most are likely to remember All of Me for the performances delivered by the two stars (which we will discuss in due course), it is important to acknowledge from the very start the main driving influence behind this film was Reiner, whose creativity as a filmmaker is often ignored, since he doesn’t always demand the praise he perhaps deserves. Not at all a journeyman filmmaker, but someone who was always reliable as both a writer and director, he never established an authorial voice quite like his friend and creative partner Mel Brooks (in the sense that his name became almost an artistic brand on its own), but who is revered by devotees of comedy, who view him as not only one of the funniest individuals to ever work in the industry but as an artistic of titanic talent on both sides of the camera. His technique was always simple – find a strong script (either one that he wrote, or that was written by someone else) ensure that it is cast well, and then just allow the material to create something special, his responsibility mainly being to cultivate the best moments and shape them into a broader narrative, tying everything together beautifully and with an abundance of detail, which is often an underpraised skill in these traditional comedy directors. He is often perceived as being a bridge between the classical era and newer styles of comedy, and All of Me is a brilliant distillation of all of these elements, which are placed carefully and with a lot of dedication by a director whose entire existence seemingly revolved around finding ways to make audiences laugh, a noble pursuit that not only made him a cherished figure amongst those who adore comedy, but also resulted in some of the funniest films ever made, which are all derived from his masterful attention to detail and ability to craft the most fascinating narratives that can oscillate between outrageous satires and more tender affairs, both of which are defining qualities of this film, and one of its major advantages over many other comedies made during this time.

For everyone involved, All of Me is a slight departure from their previous work – it is unequivocally a comedy, and it still has that outrageous sense of humour that we’d expect from Reiner. However, it is far more intelligent about how it handles the tone of the story, especially since this is a premise that seems very humourous at first until we discover that there is something much deeper and more compelling than just the farcical nature of the plot and that the narrative is surprisingly complex. Reiner’s approach is to look at the concept – a wealthy woman deciding to have her soul transposed into the body of a volunteer, whose own soul will become one with the universe, allowing the deceased to continue live out her life, essentially remaining immortal (since one would imagine once she has gotten to the end of this current life, she will simply choose another host, in a perpetual cycle of forced reincarnations) – and find ways to infuse it with both hilarity and thought-provoking commentary, which isn’t necessary but does enrichen the experience. Robinson’s screenplay already addresses these issues, based on the source material, but it is Reiner who made the conscious decision to lean into these slightly more sobering aspects throughout the film. It is serious without being sombre, and it never abandons the comedy, but rather softens it in some cases, to allow for more thoughtful discussions to emerge in the process. Behind every moment of off-the-wall humour, there is something meaningful that accompanies it, and we soon find ourselves confronted with a film that is not only blisteringly funny, but also has a mature and honest depiction of subjects that exceed the esoteric concepts, and instead centres around universal themes like ageing, loneliness and individuality, which are all engaging and poignant concepts that this film is actively exploring, manifesting in the most unexpected of places, but being profoundly evident and truly quite remarkable in both form and content.

However, as much as we can wax poetic on the more serious side of All of Me, and how it is far more than just a broad comedy, the reason this film has remained so popular is primarily due to the performances of the two leads, who are at the very peak of their careers at this point (although neither has necessarily ever been in a slump – they’re two of our greatest performers), and work together brilliantly. Steve Martin and Lily Tomlin are not only comedic legends, they are cultural icons who have withstood the test of time and remain as beloved today as they were at the height of their fame, which is what All of Me revolves around. There were countless instances where two very popular actors were paired up in a film, which was sold on their presence alone, which often meant that the actors didn’t even need to do anything particularly noteworthy since audiences would buy a ticket simply to see these stars in action. In addition to their immense talents, Tomlin and Martin have impeccable work ethic, and every moment they are on screen, their efforts to bring as much heart and nuance into these characters is extremely evident. Martin has spoken about how this film signalled the start of a period in which he set aside his more eccentric persona and decided to develop his characters more, and it certainly does show, since between this film and Roxanne (as well as a few other films throughout his career), he proved that he could bring as much heart as he did humour to his roles and that he didn’t need to rely on the same goofy, smarmy persona that previously defined his career. However, it is Tomlin who is the real attraction in All of Me – her talents have never been in question, and she has rarely been someone whose brilliance even needs to be stated. Yet, as the wealthy woman who realizes upon her death that money truly can’t buy happiness, she is extraordinary – what could have been a by-the-numbers supporting role by any other actor becomes a truly extraordinary depiction of loneliness and insecurity in her hands, and she balances her comedic excellence with her aptitude for dramatic roles. All of Me is most effective when it draws on the inherent chemistry between its two stars, and nothing captures its impact quite as well as that final scene, where Tomlin and Martin gleefully dance with one another, in one of the most touching sequences ever captured in a comedy.

All of Me is the rare kind of film that plays to both the intellectual and emotional side of the viewer – it is a very funny comedy that gleefully tackles subjects such as metaphysics, philosophy and spirituality in a way that feels genuine and meaningful, while never coming across as pretentious or as if it wants to preach to the viewer. It also makes sure that our emotional investment in this story is deep and iron-clad – this story only works if the viewer can get onto the wavelength of the story, and that is far from an easy task when you are dealing with something as abstract as this narrative since it is asking us to take a very peculiar story seriously enough that we can become invested in its development, but not so much that we lose sight of the entertaining aspects. It isn’t a film that carries itself solely on its message but is also confident enough in its central premise that it can make some bold choices. Ultimately, a comedy directed by Reiner starring Martin and Tomlin at their peak was never going to be a risk, since audiences would flock to see such a film, and even in the case that it did not meet expectations, all three were consolidated enough as comedy icons to recover quite easily, meaning that they had the freedom to do something slightly more abstract. Don’t be fooled by the glossy, mainstream exterior – All of Me is as daring as a comedy of this calibre could be, and its tendency to make a few bold decisions only makes it a more rich, compelling and engaging experience, with its shimmering humour and extraordinary heartfulness making for an engaging and enthralling examination of identity, all concealed beneath the exterior of a truly charming and very elegant comedy that has as much intelligence as it does soul – pun intended.