In Hollywood history, there exists few fabled film-maudits by wildly successful filmmakers that scream out to be, at the very least, watched and admired, if not flat-out praised as misunderstood masterpieces. In even fewer numbers (outside of the now-vanished Hong Kong film market of the ‘80s and ‘90s), there exists the legendary cinematic team-up of two significantly lauded auteurs, capable of serving-up that rare treat: the undefinable, collaboratively-directed, over budgeted film-oddity. So as much as anyone could point to the credits and exclaim, “this film was directed by Steven Spielberg”, they could just as easily make the case that 1941 carries a distinct trace of one Robert Zemeckis (and Bob Gale). With its plot and images strung together like those Rube Goldberg-devices both filmmakers seem to share an affinity for, its complicated story and set-ups seem to be, at first, at odds with its Jerry Lewis-inspired comedic antics, bordering on the slightly sublime and stupid. However, as time allows all miscounted works of art a second chance in the spotlight, the hour has certainly come for shining a beam on a film largely known as a gigantic misstep and commercial failure. With a scale and scope that is almost unheard of in American filmmaking, along with a wildly star-studded, cameo-filled cast stretching out across this film like a full-page MAD magazine spread, we might now finally be able to gaze directly into this hilariously-cracked rear-view mirror reflection of American exceptionalism and hysteria at its funniest.