Some Kinds of Wonderful

What exactly is a John Hughes film anyhow? Why were his movies so popular? How did they come to symbolize the ‘80s? What the heck happened to him? These are some of the questions I was asking myself this week after writer/director/producer John Hughes died of a heart attack at age 59.

The guy had an absolutely remarkable career with over a dozen hit comedies that he wrote or directed (or both). It’s unheard of for anyone to have that many hits making comedies, but even more astounding is that they were almost all made during the ‘80s, hence him being a symbol of the time period, like MTV, arcade games, Journey, leg-warmers or the Rubik’s Cube.

When I read through some of the tributes to the filmmaker (this one from Roger Ebert covers most of the bases), went through Hughes IMDb profile and read his Wikipedia page, I was reminded just how often his work comes up in everyday life of anyone who grew up in the ‘80s. A few examples include calling any theme park “Walleyworld,” after the ill-fated destination in National Lampoon’s Summer Vacation; repeating “Adler? Adamson? Adamson? Bueller? Bueller? Bueller” anytime someone announces a name more than once, courtesy Ferris Bueller’s Day Off; referring to a really big pancake as an “Uncle Buck pancake” in reverence to the absurdly massive hotcake John Candy’s character makes in Uncle Buck; channeling Chet (Bill Paxton) from Weird Science and yelling “You’re stewed, buttwad!” when someone gets screwed over; and, of course, utilizing the classic line from Planes, Trains and Automobiles anytime you take a wrong turn while driving: “You’re go-ing the wrooong way!”

Part of Hughes’ success was obviously his ability to create memorable dialogue, characters and scenarios. As Ebert notes, “Few directors have left a more distinctive or influential body of work than John Hughes. The creator of the modern American teenager film, who died Thursday in New York, made a group of films that are still watched and quoted today.”

But what exactly made his work so distinctive?

Among the traits of a “John Hughes film” are the way the characters talk to the camera (breaking the “Fourth Wall”), the prominence of the soundtrack (characters sing and dance to popular songs, and many of the scenes are edited to popular songs – you can’t think of Ferris Bueller’s Day Off without hearing “boomp-boomp, chika-chikahhh” in your head) and an understanding of how teenagers think and act. Although you can’t blanket-apply these traits to every Hughes movie (for example The Great Outdoors and Some Kind of Wonderful are very different pieces) these three things get at why his films were so popular, why they were so ‘80s and why that success didn’t really carry over to the ‘90s.

As soon as you tie anything into the popular music of a time period, you’re gonna date it, and if you make that part of the narrative (e.g. the kids in Breakfast Club dancing to “We Are Not Alone,” or even the title of the movie, as in Pretty in Pink), you’re gonna date it even more. Of course, if it’s so dated and popular that it defines an era, inevitably there will be huge nostalgia for it. The perfect example of this is the recent viral YouTube video for the song “Lisztomania” by Phoenix, which is comprised of clips from The Breakfast Club, Pretty in Pink, Mannequin and Footloose. Not to mention that, Hughes movies often have music video-like scenes, which couldn’t have fit better with the then-newfound excitement about MTV.

In terms of characters talking to the audience, Ferris Bueller’s Day Off probably has the most famous examples. At the beginning of the film, Ferris addresses the audience while showering: “I do have a test today, that wasn’t bullshit. I’m mean, really, what’s the point? It’s on European socialism. I’m not European, I don’t plan on being European. So who gives a crap if they’re socialists? They could be fascists-anarchists – it still doesn’t change the fact that I don’t own a car.”

Not only is a great chunk of dialogue, Hughes clearly knew the way that North American teens thought. Bueller is a guy primarily interested in himself and his wants; and he’s a guy that acts on his whims. The ‘80s saw a spike in consumerism and being stylish, so he’s not just representing adolescents, but, really, the climate of the time – for better or worse.

However, it’s not just the message itself, it was the way it as delivered. Teens are often rightfully jaded, cynical and distrustful, and here’s one of their own talking directly to them about things they care about, all while acknowledging that the film knows they’re “cooler” than it, so it says, screw the Fourth Wall. Now that device comes off as more condescending that it did back then, but when Hughes did it, it felt like the films were speaking to their target audience in much more direct and bullshit-free way.

So why did Hughes’ career peak with 1990’s Home Alone (his highest grossing movie) and then pretty much take a nose dive (the last film he directed was 1991’s box office bomb Curly Sue)?

Sure, he kept working, writing Hollywood films under the pseudonym “Edmond Dantes” (the protagonist in The Count of Monte Cristo), the most recent being a co-writing credit on the flop Drillbit Taylor, but he was no longer the so-called voice of a generation. The filmmaker kind of retired from Hollywood, although, as Ebert’s piece points out, he wasn’t the recluse that a lot of tribute articles paint him as being. Maybe he wanted to spend time with his family, perhaps he felt he’d said it all, possibly the disappointment of Curly Sue was a crushing blow – I don’t know.

Because John Hughes’ films were such a product of their time, and the ‘90s (grunge ‘n’ all) were such as strong reaction to the self-indulgence of the ‘80s, it makes sense that he’d struggle to find his footing. The more kid-centric films, such as the Home Alone series, the Beethoven films (Beethoven was the first film project he wrote as Edmond Dantes), Curly Sue and the awful Baby’s Day Out are kind of a retreat from trying to be edgy and relevant, into the safety of family films (like how Eddie Murphy became Disney’s bitch).

Maybe.

Or maybe he just got bored of being a grown man making films for teenagers. Maybe he got tired of battling Hollywood for creative control, which has been suggested as a reason he stopped directing. Maybe Judd Nelson would show up as his house drunk on malt liquor begging for a job, forcing him into hiding.

Whatever the case, the synth/neon/huge shoulder-pad mark he left on North American culture was huge. Filmmakers such as Kevin Smith and Judd Apatow cite him as a key influence, yet I think Hughes was only starting to get the appreciation he deserved as an artist that knew how to craft a comedy, and not just the guy who gave Molly Ringwald a career.

Well, at the very least he’ll live on in our quotes. Remember, any time you accidentally touch someone too intimately, you owe it to the world to think of John Candy and Steve Martin in Planes, Trains and Automobiles and yell: “Those aren’t PILLOWS!”

 

-Dave Alexander

Comments

I can understand, you not getting the Mr. Bean bit, since the viewer must at have least some form of IQ. This, I must be sure, is why you degrade yourself.

Lets not be mean there Mr. I have room to move just watch the trailor.

Actually I was trying to steal the coach...hey! What I meant to do is show what you mean to me...hold on...lets get real...I never knew you until today...hold on...Your my brother?...hold on...thats gross!...hold on...you love her? ooops hold on...I wanted you to do that!....wait hold on...That wasn't as good as I was going to do...hold on...I was interested in the fore play.