André is an Idiot: His Final Marketing Campaign is Genius

Film Reviews

Sundance Film Review: Andre is an Idiot
Director: Tony Benna
A24, Sandbox Films, Safehouse Pictures
Premiere: 01.24

If there’s one thing that dickhead Matty Healy got right, it’s that sincerity is scary. In André is an Idiot, we learn through Tony Benna’s even-keeled lens that André Ricciardi and his enigmatic persona (that some might view as a means of self-preservation) are as sincere as they come. Even if, at first, it might not seem that way. 

Sundance documentary André is an Idiot starts with Ricciardi recounting a horrific and cringe-inducing story of teenage masturbation gone wrong during a trip to visit his grandparents, eventually having to use tweezers to get numerous splinters out of an unspeakable place. Ricciardi, whose life motto is “no cops, no doctors,” talks directly to the audience and tells us that up until his cancer diagnosis, this was the worst mistake of his life. After a 45-minute colonoscopy, where there was a blockage so big the colonoscope couldn’t get past it, Ricciardi is informed he has stage 4 colon cancer. He informs us that not getting a colonoscopy sooner has taken the top spot on his list of mistakes, with his mother chiming in to tell Ricciardi that he is “a big fucking idiot.” If you’re as demented as this SLUG Contributing Writer is, it’s hard not to be totally infatuated with the man that Ricciardi is after that type of opening scene. 

The eccentric and irreverent André Ricciardi then tells us a brief story of his life: how he married his wife Janice solely because she was the bartender at his regular spot and was in desperate need of a green card. He shares that while he had a girlfriend at the time, he did this because he thought, “If I’m married to the bartender, I’d get free beers.” They end up developing an actual romantic relationship after appearing on and winning, The Newlywed Game. He eventually has two daughters, Tallula and Delilah, who only ever refer to their father by his legal name and recount stories of having him read them books like Helter Skelter while bedridden recovering from childhood surgeries. We also learn about how, regardless of how far this profession is from his personality, he got into the advertising industry and was the mind behind some of the most iconic ad campaigns of the 2010s (Rise of the Planet of the Apes and that one Ozzy Osbourne Brisk commercial). 

After all that, to say it’s extremely hard to see Ricciardi slowly succumb to his diagnosis is an understatement. We watch as the man who, at the beginning of his film, was full of life recounting crazy stories — like buying a pair of used pleather pants from Kim Kardashian from a charity auction to sell her DNA for cloning, or how he has one giant glass jar of smaller glass jars of hash to use as currency for when shit hits the fan — to a more introspective man grappling with those he has to leave behind. His weight deteriorates, his eyelashes grow to unnatural lengths as a side effect of one of his many medications and his fast-paced wit slows. We also watch and discover that this documentary is André’s last great marketing campaign, reminding men and women all over America to get a colonoscopy at the doctor-recommended age of 45 and older. 

Now, not to get too personal, but when I was 16, my mother informed me that she would be getting a chemotherapy port in her chest. Her cancer had returned and spread to what little was left of her reproductive organs. I remember thinking to myself, “This is it, my mom is going to die.” Though she eventually made it into remission, I share this not to bum you out even more than you might be right now, but to remind you just how powerful films like André Is an Idiot are. Film, and art in general, is here to remind you that while life is full of horrifying, uncertain moments, there is someone, somewhere, out there who understands what you are going through and wants to provide you with the comfort and connection you constantly search for. This is what Ricciardi strives for throughout his life and the film. That being said, it’s hard not to get choked up seeing someone you’ve gotten close to in the film’s 88-minute runtime not end up as lucky as your mom was. 

Do yourself a favor for me and André Ricciardi both: Watch this documentary and then go get your damn colonoscopy, you fucking idiot! —Yonni Uribe

Read more of SLUG’s coverage of the 2025 Sundance Film Festival.