8 - Man of the House (March 1995)

If there is a limit to how much borderline-problematic representation of native american culture can be stuffed into a single movie, this film makes every attempt to find out. Watching this movie made me feel like I was shot into an alternate universe wherein Jonathan Taylor Thomas is a little shit (dare I say - future serial killer) and Chevy Chase is a bona-fide good, kind, soul. It made my skin crawl. Thank the lords of nostalgia for rollerblades, the yellow Walkman (you know the one) and baggy grunge-era hoodie-forward outfits. Without them, I'm not sure that I could have endured the 'definately-not-Italian' Italian gangster, the scream-at-your-TV bad parenting, the...for some reason... actual clown, and the worst depiction of Home Alone-ing since.. well probably ever, without gouging out my eyes.  Someone please explain to me "háu" this script ever got a green light.