There’s a story in Paul Myers’ John Candy: A Life in Comedy (House of Anansi Press, October 7) that exemplifies everything the actor’s legion of fans would like to believe about him. Candy was starring in the romantic dramedy Only the Lonely, and, as the name above the title, he was given the luxury of a deluxe twin Teton trailer to use on set. His co-star, Maureen O’Hara, who’d come out of retirement to portray the character’s smothering mother, was given a smaller trailer. Candy was furious and demanded she be given accommodations befitting her legendary status. When the studio hemmed and hawed, he insisted on switching trailers with O’Hara. The producers finally relented.

“It does tell you a lot about him,” says Myers, who’s also written a book about the Canadian comedy troupe the Kids in the Hall. “He knew Maureen O’Hara deserved more and he wanted to make sure she felt the love. He cared deeply about everyone—the catering people, the person slinging cables on the set. When he himself felt disrespected, he was not shy about speaking up. I was told constantly while researching the book that he was exactly who you hoped he would be, and that’s so rare.”

Candy was a member of the famed Second City troupe in Toronto and a breakout star on the classic SCTV series alongside Eugene Levy, Andrea Martin, Joe Flaherty, Harold Ramis, Rick Moranis, Dave Thomas, Martin Short, and Catherine O’Hara. He made the transition to films and went from scene-stealing comic relief (Splash) to leading man (Uncle Buck). Then, in 1994, he died in his sleep of a heart attack at the age of 43.

Candy was one of the most beloved character actors of his generation. Stories like the one above were something of a relief for Myers, also a fan, who worried he might uncover something that would tarnish Candy’s memory and the public’s perception of him. But John Candy is no “Johnny Dearest.” It is, the author says, a fair, honest, and loving appreciation of Candy’s life and career. “Fans of John Candy will delight in Myers’ comprehensive biography,” writes our critic.

We spoke with Myers, comedian Mike Myers’ older brother, by phone from his home in Berkeley, California.  Our conversation has been edited for length and clarity.

What was your introduction to John Candy?

SCTV. I grew up in Toronto. My brothers and I were big fans of comedy. We loved Monty Python and Saturday Night Live. When we heard [Second City] was coming to TV, we said, “Let’s see what they do.” We were kids; we didn’t go downtown to Second City’s theater. What was so cool about SCTV was that it was very low budget; it was like black box theater for television. I instantly loved John. Superficially, he could be compared to John Belushi in his physicality and loveable quality. You could tell he was a smart actor to do these different types of characters. Again, you’re a kid, you don’t articulate that, you just know he [is] great.

In writing a biography, as in comedy, timing is everything. Why now for a book about John Candy?

We were approaching the 30th anniversary of his passing, but I wanted to hold out for people I needed to talk to. I suggested to the publisher that the book coincide with what would have been his 75th birthday this year.

Who did you want to be sure to talk to?

I wanted to get to as many first-person interviews as possible. I had a list of people: Dan Aykroyd, Catherine O’Hara, David Steinberg (who gave John his first big break), Martin Short, Steve Martin, Ron Howard, and Tom Hanks.

These are not easy gets.

They all wanted to talk about John. Tom Hanks is one of Hollywood’s busiest men, but he gave me so much time. He was so detailed and glowing about his admiration for John. I was so gratified. I had a sense when I spoke with Catherine O’Hara that she wanted to give John a good send-off. She was there at the beginning of his career, and I think she wanted to make sure that if someone was telling John’s story that he was looked out for.

Dan Aykroyd was very public about the betrayal he felt by Bob Woodward’s unflattering Belushi biography, Wired. You not only got him to talk to you, but he wrote the book’s foreword. How did you gain his trust?

It’s so funny you said that. When I put him on my list, I said to my wife, “I wonder if he does interviews after what happened with Bob Woodward.” But I’ve written other bios where I concentrate on the craft. He must have sensed my approach. Dan is so generous and a great storyteller. The foreword gave him a chance to make his statement for his friend [Candy,] whom he clearly loved. He’s such a great champion of talented people. I was just over the moon to talk to him.

What was your impression of John going into the book?

That he was a boundlessly talented person whom everybody seemed to like and that he was a master of characters. And now you’re going to ask if my impression changed after writing the book. I learned that he did internalize a lot of the body shaming he experienced. There were really horrible things in print about his body. Journalists in essence told him he didn’t look like he could be a romantic leading man in Only the Lonely. He did suffer the slings and arrows. He was constantly fighting for respect. He presented a happy face, and he wanted to make nice and wanted everyone to get along, but I feel like he did suffer more than we knew.

What is your favorite John Candy movie?

Planes, Trains and Automobiles. It shows John Candy’s full range. It has heart and madcap adventures.

Which of his films do you think is underrated?

I don’t know what people think of Cool Runnings. It’s put in the Disney sports movie category. I personally think it’s great. I also have to say Michael Moore’s Canadian Bacon [Moore’s only comedy, a critical and commercial failure]. As political satires go, it is strangely relevant to our time and John Candy is pretty great in it.

You write about some of Candy’s unrealized projects. Some, like a film adaptation of A Confederacy of Dunces, are really intriguing. Which one would you have most liked to see?

Bartholomew vs. Neff, which was to have been directed by John Hughes and would have paired John with Sylvester Stallone in an action comedy about the feud between a disgraced former baseball player and his neighbor. But Hughes walked away from it, and then Stallone walked away. I would have loved to see that.

What do you hope readers and John Candy fans get from your book?

A fuller understanding of the brief but brightly burning candle that was John Candy and how he created his own language for comedy acting. I want readers to know what he left behind, and why to this day the people that I talked to still sigh when they talk about John Candy because they know how the story ends. But what he achieved while he was alive was influential beyond his time.

Donald Liebenson is a writer in Chicago.