2 Dads 1 Movie

Steve Paulo & Nic Briana

A podcast where two middle-aged dads sit around and shoot the shit about the movies of the '80s and '90s. One each episode.

  1. Beetlejuice (1988)

    9H AGO

    Beetlejuice (1988)

    Beetlejuice (1988) is one of those movies where everybody thinks they've seen it more times than they actually have, and both dads discovered exactly that when they sat down with Tim Burton's PG-rated fever dream about dead suburbanites, haunted real estate, and a bio-exorcist with boundary issues. Steve picked this one, and it's personal. He was 8 when his parents took him and his brother to see it in theaters, and he credits Beetlejuice and Gremlins as the one-two punch that turned him into a horror kid. Nic's relationship with the film is fuzzier. He saw it young but suspects the Saturday morning cartoon warped his memories, much the way the Ghostbusters cartoon convinced a generation that Slimer was a main character. Revisiting Tim Burton after covering Pee-wee's Big Adventure earlier in the run, both dads are struck by what a bigger budget ($15 million, same as Wall Street) let Burton do with practical effects, puppetry, and that unmistakable Danny Elfman score. Nic pauses to note that Danny Elfman is the most perfectly named man in show business. If his name were Craig Winchester, none of this works. The conversation lingers on Michael Keaton, and rightly so. The makeup was largely his idea. A huge chunk of his lines were improvised. Nic calls the performance a cross between Freddy Krueger, the Heath Ledger Joker, and Ace Ventura, and honestly that tracks. There's a loving sidebar about the single PG-rated F-bomb (and accompanying crotch honk), which Nic reports his 5-year-old niece has faithfully committed to memory and recited back to her father in full. The MPAA giveth, and children taketh away. Both dads light up over the Banana Boat Song dinner party sequence and the way it builds from confusion to pure joy, only to completely backfire as a scare tactic. Steve confesses an early crush on Winona Ryder's goth Lydia that he traces directly to the first girl he dated in high school. And a brief, pointed observation about Jeffrey Jones lands with the kind of silence that says more than the joke did. Catherine O'Hara, meanwhile, gets nothing but love. Her "indoor outhouse" line, the Deo dinner party kickoff, and the immortal "they're dead, it's a little late to be neurotic" all get their flowers. Not everything holds up under the magnifying glass. The pacing drags in stretches. The shrunken head effect at the end is the weakest in the movie. The extras at Miss Shannon's School for Girls are, by both dads' estimation, not a single one of them under 45. But the stuff that works still works beautifully, and as Steve puts it, this is one of those movies that sticks with you so indelibly that it's just always there in the back of your mind. Six-and-a-half out of ten from the dads, and a reminder that there's still no better entry-level horror than the movies that started it all.

    1 hr
  2. Wall Street (1987)

    MAR 25

    Wall Street (1987)

    Nic brings Wall Street to the table this week, and the reasoning is hard to argue with: how have the Dads spent 50-plus episodes in the '80s and '90s without Michael Douglas? Oliver Stone's 1987 ode to pinstripes and insider trading follows Bud Fox, a hungry young broker played by Charlie Sheen, as he claws his way into the orbit of corporate raider Gordon Gekko by way of Cuban cigars, 59 consecutive phone calls, and one very illegal stock tip he picked up from his dad. From there, things go exactly the way Martin Sheen's face tells you they will. Both Dads came in familiar with the movie's fingerprints more than the movie itself. Steve knows the Boiler Room scenes quoting Wall Street better than any actual scene in Wall Street, and Nic, ever the CPA, paused the conversation to verify Bud Fox's tax math on a $50K salary across federal, state, city, and payroll. It checks out. Oliver Stone did his homework, even if subtlety was never on his syllabus. The dads clock Stone's sledgehammer approach early and never stop finding new examples, from Bud literally asking "who am I?" on his balcony to the foreshadowing so thick you could spread it on beef tartare, which, speaking of, Gekko serves Bud a portion roughly the size of a pot roast with an egg yolk on top. Nic didn't even think it was beef tartare because "the thing was so big." The supporting cast gets plenty of attention. Martin Sheen plays Bud's father, and the Dads agree he's the only genuinely good person in the entire film. Daryl Hannah's Darian, Razzie winner for Worst Supporting Actress, redecorates Bud's apartment into what Nic calls "Caligula's playhouse" complete with Styrofoam Doric columns, and at one point announces her dream of producing "a line of high quality antiques," which Steve correctly identifies as possibly the dumbest business plan ever committed to screen. And then there's Gekko's toddler, sporting a pumpkin pie haircut so distracting that Nic says it looks like someone painted a kid on an egg. The "greed is good" speech lands, Douglas's Oscar-winning glare lands harder, and a late-film detail where you can hear Bud's ice rattling because Charlie Sheen is subtly shaking with rage earns genuine admiration. But the financial schemes stack up and get harder to follow each time, and the third act collapses into a sprint. Both Dads leave with the same recommendation: if you want this story told better, go watch Boiler Room or binge Billions. Greed may or may not be good, but "I create nothing, I own" hits different in 2026.

    1h 18m
  3. Ferris Bueller's Day Off (1986)

    MAR 18

    Ferris Bueller's Day Off (1986)

    Steve brought a childhood favorite to the table this week, and Nic brought a grudge he didn't know he had. Ferris Bueller's Day Off (1986) is John Hughes's love letter to the perfect skip day — a senior with no car but a god-tier hacking setup, a best friend's dad's priceless Ferrari, and a city full of places most suburbanites never bother to visit. Steve first watched it on LaserDisc in elementary school and has seen it a few dozen times since. Nic? He'd seen it once, maybe, and knew the ska band Save Ferris before he knew what it was referencing. What follows is a spirited 90-minute argument about whether Ferris Bueller is a charming rogue or, as Nic puts it, a selfish, entitled con man running "Ferris LeVey's Day of Do What Thou Wilt." The dads agree on more than you'd expect: the parents are shockingly good people being ruthlessly exploited, Cameron Frye is the emotional core of the movie, and Ed Rooney is a man who abandoned an entire student body to stalk a teenager through the suburbs. They compare Ferris to Leonardo DiCaprio in Catch Me If You Can, note the convenient fantasy logic that lets nobody hear him when he breaks the fourth wall, and wonder why the real Abe Froman never showed up to claim his table. Steve drops a jaw-dropping Ferrari deep cut — a 1961 250 GT California sold at Pebble Beach in 2025 for $25.6 million, meaning the car in the movie is now worth more than the inflation-adjusted budget of the film itself. And yes, Ben Stein's economics lecture about the Hawley-Smoot Tariff Act hits a little different in 2026. The parade scene becomes a full flashpoint. Nic's take: a teenager hijacking a German heritage celebration to lip-sync a Beatles cover while a marching band pretends to play along is grounds for a riot, not a standing ovation. Steve doesn't entirely disagree but has decades of goodwill banked. Cameron's poolside diving board stunt, Jeannie's clutch save at the back door, and Charlie Sheen's method-or-meth approach to looking strung out all get their due. Two dads, one LaserDisc classic, and a gap wide enough to park a kit car Ferrari in.

    1h 24m
  4. The Breakfast Club (1985)

    MAR 11

    The Breakfast Club (1985)

    This week the Dads get detention along with The Breakfast Club, and what was supposed to be a conversation about a teen movie turns into something closer to a therapy session for two middle-aged fathers who suddenly can't stop seeing their own kids in every frame. Both dads have history with this one, but neither watched it young enough for it to hit the way John Hughes intended. Steve saw it in high school and thought these kids' problems felt like ancient history. Nic watched it more recently with his wife and daughter and came back different. Now, rewatching it through the lens of parenthood, they find a movie that's less about being a teenager and more about surviving the adults who are supposed to be raising you. The budget was a million bucks, the cast was seven people, nobody ever leaves the school, and it returned 51.5 times its cost, making it the biggest ROI of any movie the podcast has covered. Nic is duly impressed. Steve is doing the math on how nice that library is compared to anything either of them ever set foot in. The real surprise is Bender. Steve comes in ready to be annoyed and walks out calling him the best character in the movie. Not just the troublemaker, but the emotional engine of the whole thing, a kid with terrifying emotional intelligence and a cigar burn on his arm from a father he can only talk about in impressions. The Vernon-Bender supply closet scene gets a full breakdown, with both dads noting the exact moment each character realizes they went too far. Andy's confession about Larry Lester lands even harder as parents. And Brian's near-whispered admission about the flare gun and the unbearable weight of a B average nearly breaks Steve, who says he almost cried watching it this time around, thinking not about his own childhood but about the silences between sentences where kids hide what they're really feeling. There are lunches ranked, Canadian girlfriends invoked, and the eternal question of who flicks a perfectly good roach in 1984 suburban Illinois. But underneath all the Moliere-pumps-my-nads quotables, this one lands where it counts. Sincerely yours, the Dads.

    1h 18m
  5. Ghostbusters (1984)

    MAR 4

    Ghostbusters (1984)

    This week, the Dads continue their 2 Dads 2 Decades march with 1984's Ghostbusters. Steve has seen Ghostbusters well over a hundred times. He watched it on LaserDisc as a four-year-old, weekly through high school and college, and still has an autographed photo of Murray, Aykroyd, and Ramis hanging on his wall. Nic's history is a little more modest: he saw it young, lost track of it in the no-VCR, no-cable wilderness of his childhood, and circled back in high school when everybody was passing tapes around and quoting lines at each other. Both dads came in hot for this one, and the conversation has the giddy energy of two people who know they're about to have a really good time. They dig into everything that makes the movie tick: how the practical effects hold up spectacularly because the ghosts actually affect the real world around them (proton blasts carve burning gashes in walls, Slimer eats real food off real plates), why Murray and Aykroyd are both operating at absolute peak here, and the way Dan Aykroyd's fast-talking pseudo-science sounds so confident you just nod along like he was a guy who walked into a building holding a clipboard. There's a deep appreciation for Ray Stantz's dangling cigarette, the eggs frying on Dana's countertop, and the fact that a concert cellist apparently makes enough to afford a corner penthouse on Central Park West. Nic, wearing his CPA hat, is particularly horrified by Louis Tully cheerfully broadcasting his clients' financial details at his own party, a fireable offense dressed up as Rick Moranis being delightful. The Huey Lewis plagiarism saga gets a full airing, including the detail that Ivan Reitman accidentally planted the song in Ray Parker Jr.'s brain by leaving it as a temp track in early footage. Steve mounts a passionate defense of the "Dr. Venkman, not Mr. Venkman" principle, rooted firmly in being married to a doctor. And there's a solid minute spent reckoning with the fact that Dan Aykroyd apparently wrote himself a ghost b*****b into a PG movie, which is a power move that transcends decades. The dads land firmly on the same side of this one: Ghostbusters holds up, the jokes still hit, the effects (minus one rough patch with the running gargoyles) still work, and the whole thing ends exactly when it should, with marshmallow raining from the sky and Louis Tully asking who does your taxes.

    1h 19m
  6. Strange Brew (1983)

    FEB 25

    Strange Brew (1983)

    For their 50th episode, the dads crack open a 24-pack of nostalgia with Strange Brew (1983), the Rick Moranis and Dave Thomas comedy that somehow became every kid's unofficial guide to Canadian culture. Nic picked this one as a palate cleanser after the heavier terrain of Thief and Fast Times at Ridgemont High, and both dads went in carrying the same memory: this was the movie that taught an entire generation of American kids to say "hoser," "take off," and "eh" with unearned confidence. Nic admits the film basically served as his "mental Canadian embassy" well into college. Steve grew up quoting it with his friends and bonding over hockey culture. Neither had watched it in roughly twenty years. What they found is a cheerfully absurd 90-minute romp about two beer-obsessed brothers who stumble into a Hamlet-flavored murder conspiracy involving mind-control lager, a synthesizer-wielding villain with unexplained superhuman strength, an asylum full of hockey-playing inmates in Stormtrooper gear, and a ghost communicating through an arcade cabinet. Max von Sydow plays Brewmeister Smith with the intensity of a man who negotiated ass-kicking privileges into his contract. There's a lawyer who does full-contact karate on a gaggle of reporters. There's a dog named Hosehead who, without any prior foreshadowing whatsoever, flies. The currency system runs entirely on donuts and loose beer. And the movie holds the distinction of being the first film on the show that actually lost money at the box office, pulling in just $1.9 million against a $4 million budget, which prompts Nic to compare it to The Velvet Underground: nobody saw it, but everyone who did started a movie podcast. Both dads agree this is the clear ancestor of Wayne's World and wish the film had pulled in more SCTV talent for cameos. They rediscover the slang gem they somehow missed as kids: calling everything "beauty." And while the McKenzie brothers' delivery starts to wear a little thin by the final act, the affection is real. Happy 50th, hosers. Beauty episode, eh.

    58 min
  7. Fast Times at Ridgemont High (1982)

    FEB 18

    Fast Times at Ridgemont High (1982)

    This week, the Dads dive into Fast Times at Ridgemont High (1982), Cameron Crowe's undercover-journalism-turned-screenplay debut brought to life by first-time director Amy Heckerling. Both Steve and Nic trace their history with the film back to high school sleepovers and VHS rewatches, and the rewatch hits different through 2026 eyes. The killer soundtrack gets immediate love, with Jackson Browne's "Somebody's Baby" and the Cars' "Moving in Stereo" earning their permanent spots in the cultural memory bank. The Dads walk through the Sherman Oaks Galleria opening with genuine nostalgia for a time when malls were thriving ecosystems, not just an abandoned Sears and a DMV, and spend a solid chunk reminiscing about their own local mall in Pleasanton and the lost art of getting dropped off at 10 and picked up at 4. The conversation zeroes in on the film's surprisingly nuanced handling of its teenage characters. Steve highlights Amy Heckerling's direction of Stacy's first sexual experience as deliberately non-exploitative, noting the dissociative camera work that centers Stacy's discomfort rather than serving up male-gaze titillation. Both Dads appreciate that the film treats abortion matter-of-factly, especially given how close it was to Roe v. Wade. They dissect Mike Damone's "proto-pickup artist" advice to Mark Ratner, agreeing some of it is genuinely useful while the rest is manipulative garbage. Nic coins Damone's vibe as "unshakable dork confidence," and both Dads land on a nuanced read of his betrayal of Rat: Stacy has her own autonomy and chose Damone, but Damone still crossed the line by inviting himself inside. Nic pulls out the film's best hidden joke, Damone's handwritten expense ledger listing "abortion, $75" alongside a tentative Rod Stewart ticket purchase. Sean Penn's Spicoli remains the film's secret weapon, from "no shirt, no shoes, no dice" to ordering pizza directly to Mr. Hand's classroom. The Dads marvel at how Penn's performance walks the line between stoner savant and genuine comedic genius, wondering if 1982 audiences could have predicted the Oscar-caliber career ahead. Steve and Nic both land in similar territory on the film overall: Steve calls it a solid 80s time capsule that moves fast and still feels relevant in the underlying teenage chaos, while Nic admits the characters are more interesting than the plot, noting the comedy doesn't land quite as hard as memory suggests. Both agree it's a breezy, enjoyable rewatch, even if neither is rushing back for another round anytime soon.

    1h 28m
  8. Thief (1981)

    FEB 11

    Thief (1981)

    This week, the Dads fire up the cutting torch on Thief (1981), Michael Mann's gritty directorial debut that launched a career and divided a podcast booth. Steve came in completely blind, having never even heard of this Chicago-set crime noir, while Nic had been curious about it for years without ever actually watching. Fresh eyes all around, which makes the resulting conversation all the more combustible. From the jump, the Dads lock onto what makes this movie tick: it's a vibe. Nic falls hard for the Tangerine Dream synth score and moody nighttime visuals, calling it essential to the film's atmosphere. Steve? He's ready to throw the score out a window. He compares it unfavorably to Vangelis's work on Blade Runner, finding Tangerine Dream's sound harsh and intrusive where Vangelis brought texture and depth. The music sits on top of the movie rather than underneath it, he argues, actively pulling him out of scenes. Meanwhile, James Caan's Chicago accent becomes a flashpoint. Steve hears pure cartoon, something out of a Bill Swerski sketch, while Nic mounts a defense: maybe a guy raised in the foster system and incarcerated most of his life just emerges with a generic tough guy voice. The Dads also spend considerable time marveling at Caan's character pulling out a literal vision board during a diner scene to woo Tuesday Weld, a collage so pristine they can't figure out how it was physically produced in 1981. The running jokes pile up: diamonds stored in loose paper wraps instead of proper envelopes, money measured in inches, and the film's complete failure to signal when Frank has traveled from Chicago to Los Angeles. Nic appreciates the professional heist details and Frank's meticulous code, while Steve remains unmoved by a protagonist who, by the big job, is basically having his welding helmet put on for him like a princess. When Frank torches his own life in the final act, the Dads wrestle with whether the movie earns that moment or just speeds through it. Either way, Thief proves there's always something to dig into, even when the Dads aren't seeing eye to eye.

    1h 22m
5
out of 5
19 Ratings

About

A podcast where two middle-aged dads sit around and shoot the shit about the movies of the '80s and '90s. One each episode.

You Might Also Like