If Rick Moranis were still making movies, the world would be a better place. Less crime. No global warming. Free bacon delivered to our mailboxes every Wednesday evening. I truly believe this. And I can't be the only person on this planet to recognize Moranis for what he is.* Genius. Legend. Zeus of the dorks. I truly miss the man.

Now I know he's not dead (and when that sad day arrives, it should be made a North American tri-national holiday), but the last movie he physically appeared in was 1997's direct-to-video (yes, video—not DVD) Honey, We Shrunk Ourselves. Ever since, he's only diddled with the occasional voice work gig, op-ed piece for "The New York Times" (example one and two) and Grammy-nominated country music album.**

It's time for Moranis to cowboy up and make a film without the words "Honey, I Shrunk…" in the title. Yes, his reasoning for dropping the acting career is noble; his wife died of cancer in the early '90s and he was left to raise 2 young children. How can you not love a man like that? But the kids are in college now and simply Rick, the world needs you.

Tarantino get your magical career-resurrecting contraption out of the den and crank that bad boy up.

Moranis (left) in Strange Brew

If a chump like Patrick Dempsey can get a new lease on his career, there's no reason Moranis can't. All Dempsey had before finding fame and paychecks again was Can't Buy Me Love. Whoopidity-doo-dah. Moranis' iconic performances in Strange Brew, both Ghostbusters, and Spaceballs (which he's absolutely brilliant in***) alone could fill up a book of classic quotes. Can't forget Little Shop of Horrors either. Then there's his great straight-man work in My Blue Heaven and Ron Howard's under-rated gem, Parenthood. And really Honey, I Shrunk the Kids ain't too shabby, nor is Little Giants for what they are. And he and John Goodman are quite watchable in The Flintstones, even if the movie is a crap sandwich.

Most dorks in today's movies are either of the Napoleon Dynamite retard variety or the crude I-needa-fuck McLovin' type—although the retard versus horndog dork mold was cast long before those characters; they just happen to be the current flavors of the month. That's why we need Moranis. He represented a more lovable, empathetic dork. One who was smart (well, Strange Brew aside), but still socially awkward. One who didn't think about wetting his wick 24/7, but pondered how to drink more beer or get back into his apartment. And he delivered these roles with perfect comic timing. Today's movie dorks aren't fit to clean Moranis' glasses.

Please come back to us Rick at ludicrous speed. Hell, I'll still hand down money even if it is Honey, I Shrunk Chihuahua in the Microwave.

* Can I be? Nope as this piece of brilliance demonstrates.

** I shit you not. Check it out at www.rickmoranis.com. You'd never guess this is the same nasally man who squealed such immortal lines as "Hey let me in! It's Louis, somebody let me iiiin!"

*** Ah! Buckle this if you disagree!

Related post categories: Editorials, Features, The Shallow End : Rick Moranis

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