The best comedy movies on Stan

Subscribe to Stan? Want a funny movie to watch? Critic Luke Buckmaster has combed the archives and picked some of its very best rib-ticklers.

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The 40-Year-Old Virgin (2005)

Judd Apatow and Steve Carrell (the director, star, and co-screenwriters of The 40-Year-Old Virgin) do a fine job creating a daggy but endearing protagonist who is, as the title indicates, sexless, and who falls in love with a businesswoman played by Catherine Keener. Like most Apatow films it’s too long, by quite a way, but the manchild humour has heart and the central characterisation never condescends—to us or the man himself.

Adventures of Priscilla, Queen of the Desert, The (1994)

It’s clear from the start of Stephan Elliott’s fabulously glitzy road movie about drag queens travelling to Alice Springs for a cabaret show that something magically weird is in the air. Terence Stamp, Hugo Weaving and Guy Pearce are the drags in question, injecting fabulous flair into their fancy frocked characters, who gave Australia exactly what it needed: “a cock in frock on a rock.”

An American Werewolf in London (1981)

John Landis’ scrappy genre-merging classic is funny weird and funny ha-ha, starting in the key of a culture clash backpacker comedy then spectacularly shirking formula. The transformation of David (David Naughton) into a werewolf doubles as a metaphor for puberty (like Teen Wolf), with absurd melodrama prioritized over outright horror (like Vampire’s Kiss).

Anchorman – The Legend of Ron Burgundy (2004)

Few films are as memeable, quotable and as stupidly enjoyable as Adam McKay’s 70’s-set cult classic about a chauvinistic news anchorman (Will Ferrell) threatened by the arrival of a female newsreader (Christina Applegate). Anchorman‘s shaggy pace works in its favour, giving the performance⁠s—particularly Ferrell’s⁠—room to breathe and settle into a zany, stonerish tempo. Ron Burgundy became kind of a big deal.

Beetlejuice (1988)

Michael Keaton is manically transformative as a hyper-powered ghoul decked out in a pin-striped Halloween suit, whose house-haunting abilities are sought after by a couple of amateur ghosts (Alec Baldwin and Geena Davis). Tim Burton managed to film what is, in effect, a cartoon in live-action format, stuffing it full of kooky inventions and visual wit.

Beverly Hills Cop 2 (1987)

The heat is on! Eddie Murphy was at his A game in the second—and best—installment in his most famous franchise, playing a motormouth detective who relocates from the back alleys of Detroit to the swimming pools of Beverly Hills. Helmed by action auteur Tony Scott, Murphy gets to the bottom of a series of irresistibly silly “alphabet crimes.”

The Big Short (2015)

The core challenge in Adam McKay’s satire about Wall Street sharks (who saw the GFC coming and conspired to profit from it) is to make a dry subject broadly accessible. The writer/director’s everything-and-the-kitchen-sink approach deploys narration, fourth wall-breaking and endless analogies, including the following sage words from Steve Carrell: “So mortgage bonds are dog shit wrapped in cat shit?” It’s structurally messy, but it works.

Bill & Ted’s Excellent Adventure (1989)

I love the poster tagline: “History is about to be rewritten by two guys who can’t spell.” Stoner vibes and time travel collide in this stupidly entertaining—but smartly written—film about the titular knuckleheads (Keanu Reeves and Alex Winter), who go back in time to retrieve famous people from history for a class presentation. As, erm, Abraham Lincoln once said: “Be excellent to each other.”

The Birdcage (1996)

“We are family! I got all my sisters and me!” I’ll always associate Sister Sledge’s song with this hilarious remake of the French farce La Cage aux Folles. Val Goldman (Dan Futterman) and Barbara Keeley (Calista Flockhart) nervously introduce their future inlaws, Val having asked his gay father and partner (Robin Williams and Nathan Lane) to pretend to be straight to appease Barbara’s conservative parents (Gene Hackman and Dianne Wiest). The performances are pitch-perfect and the film carries a timeless message about acceptance.

Bridemaids (2011)

Who could forget Kristen Wiig on the plane, drunk and high as a kite, giving shtick to a flight attendant she thinks is named Stove (it’s Steve)? This moment is a good example of Wiig’s hilarious talents and director Paul Feig’s wise decision to let scenes breathe, trusting his script and actors. Wiig, playing a skittish maid of honour, emerged as the star, with Melissa McCarthy delivering an irrepressibly funny supporting performance.

The Castle (1997)

Rob Sitch’s beloved David-vs-Goliath story, about an average bloke fighting against compulsory real estate acquisition, could easily have been a down-the-nose ridicule of blue collar Australia. But Sitch avoids mocking his characters despite sending up the way they talk and even the food they eat—bringing heart, warmth and one-liners. Straight to the pool room!

Chasing Amy (1997)

A scene-stealing Joey Lauren Adams sparkles in the titular role in the third film in Kevin Smith’s Jersey trilogy, revolving around three professional comic book writers. The friendship between two best buds (Ben Affleck and Jason Lee) is strained when one of them explores a romantic relationship a woman (Adams) who is gay. Discussions oscillate from pop culture monologues to serious considerations of sex and gender identities—Smith matching crudity with maturity, kink with heart.

Clerks (1994)

The first of Kevin Smith’s many yak-a-thons is a tribute to slackers and an ongoing inspiration for cash-strapped filmmakers, demonstrating how to turn scrappy low-fi aesthetics into a selling point. The protagonist (Brian O’Halloran) goes to work at a convenience story on what was, famously, supposed to be his day off—accompanied by an antagonistic video store employee (Jeff Anderson). Gags run the gamut, all the way from Star Wars to necrophilia.

The Death of Stalin (2017)

Armando Iannucci’s ferociously sharp tragicomedy explores, with bone-dry wit, power-grabbing among top-level Russian ministers in the aftermath of the titular event. The drama is farcical; the comedy hurts. Like the British auteur’s also terrific In the Loop, The Death of Stalin has an addictive quality: the more you watch it the better it gets.

Down Under (2016)

The Cronulla Riots is a tough subject to mine for laughs, but Abe Forsythe does a terrific job in his squirm-inducing satire that begins with news footage of the riots set to the tune of We Wish You a Merry Christmas. The writer/director gets his targets right, focusing on warring tribes of hotheaded young men who are foolishly ignorant and zenophobic. Still, given the event was fuelled by racially-motivated violence, it’s a minefield.

Ferris Bueller’s Day Off (1986)

Bueller. Buelllller. Buellllleeerrr! John Hughes’ 1986 ode to playing hooky and goofing around—starring Mathew Broderick as the titular class-cutting rascal—is obviously a product of the 80s. But its good-natured presentation of youthful rebellion has timeless qualities, making broad statements about the teenage experience that still resonate.

Game Night (2018)

This fabulously shrewd film revolves around a weekly game night—hosted by an ultra-competitive married couple (Jason Bateman and Rachel McAdams)—that gets spectacularly out of hand, after a kidnapping that may or may not be part of the entertainment. The jokes are regular and hilarious, and the film’s core themes are shrewdly reiterated in its aesthetic—including long exterior shots styled to resemble board games.

I, Tonya (2017)

Margot Robbie’s celebrity-shedding performance forms the centre of this “real-or-not?” biopic about disgraced figure skater Tonya Harding. Director Craig Gillespie questions who’s to blame for the knee-capping incident for which the athlete is best remembered, taking a fourth-wall-breaking approach that crackles and fizzes. The most compelling themes run in contrasts: humour and sadness, reality and artifice.

Mean Girls (2004)

The spritzy, prickly dialogue in Tina Fey’s very sassy Mean Girls script is delivered by the cast faster than usual, in the great tradition of screwball comedies. Lindsay Lohan is the new kid on the block at an Illinois high school, unwittingly thrust into a cutthroat classroom hierarchy. Director Mark Waters eschews the familiar gloss covering teen movies in favour of an edgier approach. It’s imminently rewatchable.

Muriel’s Wedding (1994)

PJ Hogan’s portrait of a love-hungry sad sack, brilliantly played by Toni Collette, has a dark and complicated soul. Muriel (Toni Collette) is, as one character famously puts it, a rather terrible person. The film is a twisted tragicomedy in which weddings are bitterly ironic and beautiful friendships are squandered. Collette makes dweebiness dangerous, and turns self-pity into flagellation.

Napoleon Dynamite (2004)

Like the film that bears his name, Napoleon Dynamite dances to his own beat. Jon Heder’s very entertaining performance pushes the character to the brink of believability: he’s cartoonish, but real enough to feel genuine. Heder’s presence seems to dictate the offbeat rhythms of the film, which hovers around the protagonist’s life at high school, where a new friend runs for class president. Vote Pedro!

Shaun the Sheep Movie (2015)

The titular character’s dialogue-free movie spin-off sends Shaun and co to the big city, on a mission to find and return their amnesia-afflicted farmer. Evoking the craftsmanship of great silent era comedies, in addition to stylistic and thematic inspirations ranging from Jacques Tati to Luis Buñuel, co-directors Mark Burton and Richard Starzak construct an utterly delightful work of art: spirited, lively, inventive, humane.

School of Rock (2003)

Jack Black’s characteristically boisterous performance as a heavy metal guitarist who becomes a substitute music teacher, leading a bunch of lovable pipsqueaks to a battle of the bands competition, fits this film so well it seems like the entire thing was shaped in his image. The story is archetypal but the energy of the cast is infectious, writer/director Richard Linklater’s earnest approach matching head with heart—while also rocking out.

Step Brothers (2008)

I can’t decide whether this film gets funnier as it goes along, or if I just acclimatise to its stupid rhythms. Comedies don’t get much more lowkey, or as manchild-centric as this story of two warring step-brothers who become besties, played with irrepressible idiocy by Will Ferrell and John C. Reilly.

The Sum of Us (1994)

In this Australian classic Jack Thompson’s kindly father Harry suffers a stroke, but that doesn’t stop him from breaking the fourth wall (“the trouble with having a stroke is people treat like you like a fuckwit,” he tells the audience). Adapted from a play of the same name, the story involves Harry and his gay son Jeff (Russell Crowe) looking for Mr/Mrs Right.

A Sunburnt Christmas (2020)

Bad Santa in the outback! An on-the-run crook (Daniel Henshall) looking for stashed loot hides on a farm, convincing two young kids there (Lena Nankivell and Eadan McGuinness) that he’s the jolly fella from the North Pole. Wacky and sweet in a backhanded way, director Christiaan Van Vuuren balances sass and sentiment.

Swiss Army Man (2016)

Otherwise known as “the boner corpse movie.” And what a boner corpse movie! In this very black and very screwy indie comedy, Daniel Radcliffe is dead and (sort of) loving it, accompanied by a ratty Paul Dano, who wanders around with him and even rides his body like a jet ski. Incredibly, this bat shit crazy descendant of Weekend of Bernie‘s evolves into a genuinely moving experience.

Ted (2012)

Uproarious non-PC comedy is par for the course for Seth MacFarlane, who summons to life a lewd bong-smoking teddy bear that’s besties with Mark Wahlberg. The film’s subtext (yeah, it has one) plays out like a reverse Toy Story: instead of saying goodbye to aspects of childhood, formative experiences transmogrify into forces that stunt a person’s growth as an adult. Entertaining, filthy, facetious.

The Truman Show (1998)

Peter Weir brilliantly fleshes out a simple premise: what if somebody was the star of their own reality TV show and didn’t know it? The story of goofy insurance salesman Truman Burbank (Jim Carrey), whose voyage of personal discovery reveals the fraudulent nature of his reality, springboards several interesting discussions—including the exploitative consequences of voyeurism and the end of privacy.

Tucker & Dale vs. Evil (2010)

Eli Craig’s unique slasher-comedy comes with an ingenious concept: the true “villain” isn’t a person but a preconception. Attractive city slickers nick off for a weekend away and constantly misinterpret the actions of the peaceful and sweet, if a little daft titular characters (Tyler Labine and Alan Tudyk) as menacing, hysterically responding in ways that cause their own death. Gnarly, inventive, outrageous.

This guide is regularly updated to reflect changes in Stan‘s catalogue. For a list of capsule reviews that have been removed from this page because they are no longer available on the platform, visit here.