Big
Written by Anne Speilberg and Gary Ross
Directed by Penny Marshall
Starring Tom Hanks, Elizabeth Perkins and Robert Loggia
Running time 1 hour and 44 minutes
MPAA Rating fantasy, kids and family, comedy
by Stacey Osbeck
When 13 year old Josh Baskin (David Moscow) fails to meet the height requirement and is turned away from a carnival ride in front of his crush, he wanders off to a coin operated Zoltar machine, an animatronic fortune teller with a pointy beard and bejeweled turban. As the wind kicks up and organ grinder music rises, drowning out the din of the fair, Josh pops a quarter in and makes a wish to be big. The next morning Josh gets the shock of his life. Overnight, he’s transformed into a full grown man (Tom Hanks). Of all the body swap films that came out in the late ‘80s Big is easily the best. Big is also the only film I’ve ever seen as a kid and then again as an adult and had two totally different movie experiences.
Growing up in Westchester County, New York, no other movie reached the level of being beloved in my community like Big. We’d all seen films set in California or New York City, but in Big the you-got-a-little-mustard-there date scene and the final boardwalk wish had been shot at our local amusement park, Rye Playland. For years after, no one spoke of Playland without also bringing up the film. They were linked, a feeling of a crossover between the movies and our own reality.
Hitting theatres in 1988, a few things set this flick apart from its closely released competitors: Like Father Like Son (1987), Vice Versa (1988), 18 Again (1988), Dream a Little Dream (1989).
Gary Ross’s and Anne Spielberg’s screenplay plumbed the depths of the material, bringing forth more nuance, laughs and heart. They also crafted original and memorable set pieces that have held up over time. After Josh and the owner of MacMillan Toys bump into each other at the FAO Schwarz toy store, they play a duet of ‘Heart and Soul’ and a quick rendition of ‘Chopsticks’ with their feet on a 16 foot long piano. At the company party, Hanks shows up dressed like some ringmaster of a circus based in Reno. The white tux with tails and gold embroidery draws so much attention that he discretely checks to make sure his fly isn’t open. Later, Josh brings Susan (Elizabeth Perkins) to his toy-filled apartment where they leap and bound around on a huge indoor trampoline.
In addition to those major moments, there were no throw away scenes. Poor table manners with a cherry from a sundae, goofing off on the gate of a delivery truck, those little actions held up the credibility of the situation throughout.
David Moscow’s scenes bookending the film don’t begin to show the amount of work he put in. Director Penny Marshall had the foresight to videotape Moscow acting out the adult Josh scenes so Hanks could study and embody the young actor’s posture and mannerisms. This added a layer of authenticity to the performance of a kid stuck in a grownup body and brought Hanks his first Oscar nomination.
Sometimes you come back to anything and the experience isn’t the same. I recently took the train north to Rye Playland beach. I live in Queens and all NYC beaches are closed. Sure it was different than I remember. Masks, six feet, you know the drill. But there was nothing unexpected. Coming back to Big as an adult turned out to be a repeat watching that was like no other. The movie hadn’t changed, I had.
When Josh is still at his entry level position at MacMillan Toys they hand out everyone’s weekly pay and Josh shouts out 187 dollars in excitement, to which Jon Lovitz responds yup they really screw you don’t they. As a kid I’d never had 187 bucks handed to me. Now, even with inflation, eesh.
Josh and his childhood best bud, Billy (Jared Rushton) try to find the traveling Zoltar machine so they can turn Josh back into a kid. In 1988, I couldn’t articulate all the reasons why Josh catapulting through the ranks of a toy company to become Vice President of Product Development was a once in a lifetime opportunity, but I did wonder “Is he sure he wants to go back?” There’s no way to know if this awesome life would be waiting for him when he grows up. It probably won’t be. The only reason he’s well suited for the job, testing and creating toys, is because he leapt directly from 13 to adulthood. He didn’t go through that span where every passing year chips away a little more childhood until he eventually becomes a grown up like everyone else at the company. Being an actual adult would evaporate his current edge. With everything a kid could want: a job that’s more like playtime, money in his pocket, no one telling him to go to bed or pick up his toys, a trampoline, no school, why go back?
In my 20s, all those inconsequential activities grown up Josh witnesses while revisiting his old neighborhood, like kids in a pile of autumn leaves throwing fistfuls of them up in the air or watching two pals just toss a ball around, conjured a sort of longing. Suddenly that SoHo apartment and high power job lost a little of their sheen when compared with the alternative.
At one point, while Josh is on an important call, Billy bursts into his office. Josh asks if he can return at lunch, that it’s not a good time. “I’m your best friend. What’s more important than that?” Billy demands before storming off. On first viewing, how could he put off his best friend for work? For work?! Now, I don’t care if you’re my best friend, if I’m on an important call, trying to get my proposal done, working against a deadline and you show up unannounced–get out.
The jokes and bits of dialogue I had to ask my mother about after the movie, needed no explanation as an adult. It’s no accident. It’s built into the script. It’s as if there were one movie overlaid upon another and you can’t see the second film without the secret decoder ring that comes with adulthood. Regardless, if you’d like to go back, or wish to skip forward, Big is a fun fantasy film set in reality which has enough nostalgia and laughs for wherever you are.
Big was featured in the Summer 2020 print zine of Moviejawn, available for purchase here.