Chevy Chase tries to trade sarcasm for step-dad duty in Man of the House, the 1995 family comedy that pairs him with sitcom royalty and a Tiger Scout troop. Mark, Chris, and Mike dig into Chase’s turn as a well-meaning attorney trying to win over his girlfriend’s skeptical son, played by Jonathan Taylor Thomas at peak mid-’90s fame. Add Farrah Fawcett, George Wendt, and a script credited to Don Calame, and you’ve got a movie engineered for broad appeal—and uneasy laughs.

The guys weigh how the film fits into Chase’s post-Vacation trajectory, how it softens his prickly persona for family audiences, and why the culture-clash humor (complete with faux-Native American pageantry) lands differently today. 

Mike, Mark, and Chris revisit Cops & Robbersons, a mid-’90s Chevy Chase outing that jams suburban family comedy into a would-be cop thriller. Chase plays Andy Robberson, a lackluster father whose life implodes when a volatile detective (Jack Palance) moves in to surveil a killer (Robert Davi).

The discussion looks at where the film sits in Chase’s post-Vacation career, Michael Ritchie’s shaky tonal control, and the odd-couple dynamic between Chase’s flustered everyman and Palance’s granite-jawed intensity. Is this an overlooked curiosity, a misjudged genre mash-up, or just another example of how badly a Chase vehicle can skid without a sharp satirical edge?

Chevy Chase takes an unexpected turn into sci-fi thriller territory with Memoirs of an Invisible Man (1992). Directed by John Carpenter and adapted from H.F. Saint’s novel, the film follows Nick Halloway (Chase), who becomes invisible after a freak laboratory accident. As he grapples with the perks and pitfalls of invisibility, he also tries to evade ruthless CIA operative David Jenkins (Sam Neill) and connect with Alice Monroe (Daryl Hannah). 

It’s an ambitious mash-up of comedy, romance, and paranoia that didn’t quite land with audiences or critics at the time but remains one of the oddest entries in Chase’s career. Mike, Mark, and Chris break down the film’s tonal shifts, behind-the-scenes clashes, and its place in both Chase’s and Carpenter’s filmographies.

Mike, Mark, and Chris revisit the 2015 Vacation, a remake-sequel that tries to chart a new path while carrying the Griswold name. They examine how the film reframes Rusty as the next-generation family man, what works (and what doesn’t) in its mix of callbacks and updated comedy, and how the movie handles the legacy of the original series. The trio also considers Chevy and Beverly D’Angelo’s brief return and whether the film earns its place in the larger Vacation lineage.

Chevy Chase, Demi Moore, John Candy, and Dan Aykroyd walk into a nightmare—literally—in Nothing But Trouble (1991), Aykroyd’s one and only directorial effort. Chris, Mark, and Mike dig into this gonzo horror-comedy oddity that blends Texas Chain Saw Massacre grime with Looney Tunes energy and a dash of Wall Street satire. Though often written off as one of the worst films of the ’90s, our hosts find themselves surprisingly charmed by its grotesque ambition, wild set design, and commitment to sheer weirdness. Maybe, just maybe, Nothing But Trouble deserves a little less hate.

Potentially the most popular of all of Chevy Chase's films, National Lampoon's Christmas Vacation has become a perennial family favorite despite the Griswolds not actually going on vacation but their extended family visiting them in the suburbs of Chicago during a year where Clark counts too heavily on his Christmas bonus.

With a stand-out performance from Randy Quaid returning as Cousin Eddie, the film layers slapstick chaos with sharp holiday satire. Beverly D’Angelo anchors the madness as Ellen Griswold and new kids Juliette Lewis and Johnny Galecki provide memorable turns.

Written by John Hughes and directed by Jeremiah S. Chechik, the movie captures both the warmth and the frustration of family gatherings, becoming a December staple for generations who can’t help but sympathize with Clark’s doomed quest for the “perfect” Christmas.

Chevy Chase dons the Lakers jersey once more as Mike White (The Projection Booth), Mark Begley (Wake Up Heavy), and Chris Stachiw (The Kulturecast) dig into Fletch Lives (1989). The long-delayed sequel to Fletch swaps the quick-witted investigative journalist’s L.A. backdrop for Southern Gothic eccentricity, televangelists, and KKK satire—sometimes with mixed results. The trio debate whether Gregory Mcdonald’s sharp creation survived the Hollywood comedy blender, why the sequel feels both broader and thinner, and whether Chase’s disguises still land. Along the way, they examine the film’s troubled production, its place in Chase’s career arc, and the curious legacy of this oddball follow-up.

We finally brave the cinematic sand trap that is Caddyshack II (1988), a baffling sequel that ditches the scrappy charm of the original for a mess of slapstick, snooty social satire, and one-liners that land with all the grace of a thrown brick. Mark, Mike, and Chris dig into what went wrong—from Rodney Dangerfield bailing and Jackie Mason stepping in, to Chevy Chase coasting through with a smirk and a nine iron. Why does this sequel feel like a corporate golf outing where everyone's just waiting for lunch? We break down the chaotic production, Harold Ramis’s reluctant involvement, and the comedy vacuum at its core. It’s less a follow-up than a farce—but is there anything worth salvaging from the rough?

This may be it.  We may have reached the nadir of Chevy Chase's filmography with the 2006 film from director Leslie Greif, Funny Money.  Based on a play by Ray Cooney, the film feels incredibly stage-bound and like a pale imitation of better screwball comedies.  Hold on to your sides, they're about to be split!

In Funny Money, Chase plays a fake fruit engineer whose boss (Robert Loggia) comes to visit his home on the same night that Chase finds a briefcase filled with five million dollars.  It's just one wacky cliche after another and a complete waste of all talent involved in the film. 

Mark, Chris, and Mike experienced this cinematic car crash so you don't have to.

Mike, Mark, and Chris take a closer look at Funny Farm (1988), Chevy Chase’s turn as a New York sportswriter who relocates to small-town Vermont in search of a simpler life—only to find frustration, isolation, and a town that seems determined to break him. 

Directed by George Roy Hill, the film mixes dry satire with broad physical comedy, offering a darker, more cynical take on the rural escape fantasy. The trio discuss how Funny Farm fits within Chevy’s late-’80s filmography, the tonal balance between charm and bitterness, and whether the film deserves its reputation as a solid entry in his career or a footnote.