Bill and Ted haven’t changed all that much, but that’s what’s endearing about this third installment.
The first time I saw Bill & Ted’s Excellent Adventure, I was in 9th grade history class and the substitute teacher that day, instead of working, just put on this movie that we watched over the course of two days. (What a great feeling it was to walk in and see there was a substitute. Nothing of substance ever happened. It usually resulted in watching some sort of video, or literally “do whatever you want as long as it’s quiet.”) So that’s how I was introduced to Bill and Ted, the way a movie is supposed to be watched: on an old square cathode ray tube television, wheeled in on a cart with a matching VCR, as the kids behind me shot spit wads at my head. (I really only distinctly remember two videos we watched on a substitute day. Bill & Ted’s Excellent Adventure, and, a year later, some movie about Julius Caesar. The only reason I remember it is because at one point in the movie, as the citizens of Rome pelted the streets with rotten vegetables, the substitute teacher paused the movie, said to the class, “Look, Caesar salad,” and started the movie again as the class groaned. What made this even more of a dud joke was it was obvious he had done that line a few times before. But, on the other hand, I still remember this, so I don’t know what to think.) The weird thing about Bill & Ted’s Excellent Adventure and its 1991 sequel, Bill & Ted’s Bogus Journey (which I actually saw in a theater instead of waiting for the Blue Springs, Missouri public school system to show it to me), is that they feel such a part of that era. It’s difficult to imagine a third Bill & Ted movie coming out in this era, and especially now.
