[quote] John Candy distanced himself from Aykroyd in the 1970s.
R104 well, Candy got over his distaste pretty quickly, then, given that he starred in THE BLUES BROTHERS, shot in the summer of 1979.
On that subject, this thread flags a lot of misconceptions about TBB, and what it meant. The best way to look at the film, and indeed the general lore and premise, is that it's a jukebox musical adventure written and made just for straight blue-collar American men. No idea if these still happen, but throughout the 1990s there even used to be showings of the movie where audiences would come to the theater in costume, get up and sing or dance during the song sections, loudly yell lines of the movie in unison - all very ROCKY HORROR, no?
The movie rhapsodises an urban playground, replete with things that the driftless yet conventionally workaday men of the world adore - cars, guitars, explosions, swaggering through a squalid existence thumbing the nose at authority and fucking with cowboys & cops. It's a vision of a what would happen if two down-and-out buddies and brothers just cut loose and abandoned all responsibility in single-minded and chaotic albeit golden-hearted pursuit, i.e. the dream of most hetero men. What red-blooded streetwise American male doesn't want to see a hundred cop-car pile-up, a flamethrower collapsing a building, or a stick up in City Hall? There's no angst or compunction about any of the destruction that the plot entails, and that is a huge part of the attraction. It's controlled carnage, a ballet of crunching metal and fire. It's the seductive idea that audacity, Rule of Cool, and not giving a fuck about rules can make you a hero, and that you don't need money or a white collar or a clean rap sheet to do it.
It's also a paean to male fraternity, particularly of the underclass and the marginalised, and the world of men who have freedom from women. Notice that the three main female characters - the Penguin, Aretha, Carrie, and Twiggy - are portrayed as unreasonable or hopeless, get barely any screen-time and no resolution, and are quickly dispensed of within the story (admittedly, Carrie does have a business of her own and gets some badass scenes). Again, this gives the film an appealing level of escapist fantasy to an audience of disenchanted men who only feel truly understood by their buddies at the jobsite, men who at heart are still boys who long to play and create havoc again, but who have fallen into a life where scraping by seems to be the only option.
There is much about TBB one can criticise, but one thing for which it is laudable is the general message of diversity, visibility for the poor, and the power of radical unity. The movie celebrates the ingenuity, power, creativity and intelligence of the poor, and sides firmly with them in their quest. The film was conceived and written at a time when racial uncertainties still divided a nation where segregation had only recently been ended, yet the movie has integral black characters in pivotal scenes throughout, some even having respectable or professional jobs on the 'right' side of the law (the statie played by Steven Williams, Rvd. Cletus, Elwood's manager at the glue factory, Matt & Aretha).
There is also the more serious subtext of the schism of wealth. When the movie was released, urbanised America was about to sink unbeknownst into a sanitised, gleaming, dog-eat-dog yuppie Hell where people like Jake & Elwood, Curtis, Aretha, Matt 'Guitar' Murphy, Rvd. Cletus, Franz Oz the Corrections Officer, John Lee Hooker, the hobos at Elwood's flophouse, and the ladies working at the glue factory had no place to legitimately exist and thrive; it's rather poignant and telling that, at the end of the film, the brothers end up back in the joint indefinitely. The only definitively wealthy characters, Maury Sline the agent & Carrie, are shown to be sleazy and psychotic, respectively.
It's not a movie meant to speak to gays, particularly not the upper-middle classes, and that's ok.