‘André Is an Idiot’ Review: The Funniest Movie About Cancer You’ll Ever See

I foolishly thought I was going to get away without shedding a tear. I was really proud of myself — a person who has been known to cry over more than one commercial — for holding it together as long as I did. But then the last 10 minutes happened, and it was waterworks the rest of the way through to the end. André Is an Idiot is one of the saddest, boldest documentaries I’ve ever seen. It’s also one of the funniest and most mundane — which is what makes it even more powerful.

What is ‘André Is an Idiot’ About?

As you can probably tell from the name alone, André Is an Idiot is not your typical dry, straightforward documentary. The film, directed by Tony Benna, documents the last few years of André Ricciardi’s life after he is diagnosed with Stage 4 colon cancer. We quickly discover the title comes from a quote by André’s mother, who, after learning her son was sick because he didn’t get a colonoscopy, proclaimed, “What a f**cking idiot.” And that’s not even the first shocking thing we learn. The opening scene has André monologuing about getting splinters in his penis while masturbating at age 13. It’s a hilarious, irreverent scene that immediately sets the tone of André Is an Idiot.

André remains pretty blasé about his terminal diagnosis, all things considered. He figured he’d probably die young, recounting the amount of drugs and alcohol he used to do and even likening chemotherapy to a bad hangover. Still, while he retains his sense of humor and optimism through the end, every time a yearly check-in flashes onto the screen, it’s like a punch to the gut. After one year, the chemo starts becoming less effective. After two, they have to move on to radiation, which he finds much worse. By year three, there are physical manifestations that make it impossible to hide his condition. Despite remaining very much the same old André, there are changes — for both he and his family — that they all have to reckon with as they prepare for the end.

‘André Is an Idiot’ Unique Style Makes It a Celebration of Life and a Reflection on Death

André Is an Idiot is both a celebration of one man’s life and a reflection on the notion of death in general. The film lets us get to know him and all his eccentricities, like the way he keeps weed in a jar to use as currency in case there’s an earthquake and the fact that, when his daughter was in the hospital, he bonded with her by reading her a book about the Manson murders. By documenting these details, the film memorializes André and keeps him from being forgotten — something he mentions multiple times throughout the film.

Yet it also helps André come to terms with everything. “It’s fascinating that I’m dying,” he says early on, “And I want to document it and learn from it.” One thing he finds out is just how boring death is. His world doesn’t stop as he expected it to — rather, he still follows a mundane routine that includes smoking weed and cracking jokes to his daughters while sitting on the couch. He doesn’t overtly show it often, but it’s clear that the news is having more of an impact on him than he lets on. When he gets bad news, for example, he decides to take a road trip with his friend Lee into the middle of nowhere, taking mushrooms and sitting in silence. He finds a place that helps facilitate a death yell — something that consists of going into the mountains and screaming what he would like his last words to be. It’s the ultimate bit, in a way, though that’s how André processes things: through humor.

Related

‘Oh, Hi!’ Review: Love Meets ‘Misery’ in Molly Gordon and Logan Lerman’s Anti-Rom-Com | Sundance 2025

Sophie Brooks’ film shows the importance of trying not to convince someone why they should like you.

Benna’s directing style enhances this, combining footage with claymation reenactments of a colonoscopy and even a show André jokingly pitches to his therapist called Who Wants to Kill Me? André is an artist (one who’s “so talented you put up with his shit,” says one coworker) with a unique, colorful style that pops off the page — and the theme of appearances and facades is a primary one — so the integration of these elements is seamless. André’s background in advertising is smartly highlighted, too. Though he admits advertising seems extremely inconsequential when you get cancer, André decides to use his background to make a difference in the most André way imaginable by working with his former coworkers to design funny, raunchy ads to remind people to get their colons checked.

But underneath all the humor, there is, of course, pain and fear. André’s sessions with this therapist are particularly illuminating. We discover André feels the need to make people laugh, as he’s unable to see his purpose in the world without this ability. His identity and worth are so tied to his entertainment factor, which is a heartbreaking revelation — especially when it’s clear how loved he is just for being himself and the fact that his family would prefer that André allow them to grieve a bit.

‘André Is an Idiot’ Shows the Power of Family, Friends, and Funny

At the core of this film is a beautiful love story meant for the big screen between André and his wife, Janice, who was originally André’s bartender. André agreed to marry her despite the fact they were both seeing other people simply so Janice could get a green card, but while studying for the immigration interview (not to mention a hilarious and whacky appearance on The Newlywed Game, in which they actually found a way to cheat), the two ended up falling in love for real. The film is at its strongest when it highlights their relationship and the impact this is having on Janice. She talks starkly about what it’s like to be a caregiver for her husband and the struggle she’s faced with anticipatory grief. There’s also an interesting albeit painful conversation about the thin line between hopefulness and denial and a discussion of how much they should reveal to their teen daughters about André’s condition.

Other moving dynamics could have benefitted from more screentime, such as André’s “soulmate status” with his best friend Lee. Lee touches on how, immediately after André’s diagnosis, he avoided joking with him and didn’t know how to act for a while — something that will surely be relatable for a large percentage of the audience — but this idea is moved on from rather quickly. André’s older brother Nick and a very fake, very different version of his dad (his real father is a highly private man and would “rather do chemo” than appear on camera) offer some insight into his childhood and family, but these relationships feel underdeveloped compared to his one with Janice.

André’s therapist encourages him to visit grief more fully, which we do get to see via a voiceover from his final journal entry during the film’s last moments. It’s a powerful way to end, even if one may wish that we would have gotten some more exploration of this earlier from André talking directly into the camera. Even so, it’s a remarkable moment about a remarkable man in an often remarkable documentary. Trust me, you’ll want to bring the tissues for this one — it’ll sneak up on you.