John Hughes: Much Ado About Something

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  • 8/14/2019 John Hughes: Much Ado About Something

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    Much Ado About...Something

    O for a Muse of fire, that would ascend

    The brightest heaven of invention

    Quick, name the most important filmmaker of the past 25 years. Scorsese? Spielberg?

    Lucas? How about Tarantino? Soderbergh? The Coen Bros? Spike Lee? Ang Lee?

    Not a bad bunch of guys. Some fine work, sure. But wrong. Let me cut to the chase, and

    dispel all the lies and falsehood. The most important filmmaker of the past twenty-five

    years? The Frank Capra of the X, Next and Star Wars Generations? Drum roll please

    John Hughes.

    You heard me. John Hughes. For those of you under the age of 25, you may be thinking,who the hell is John Hughes? For those of you over 25, the response may be, did he

    just say John Hughes? Well yes, I just did. John Hughes. The most important filmmaker

    of the past 25 years. How do ya like them apples?

    You may be aware of some of his work. You may even be square enough to know that

    Mr. Hughes is responsible for Curly Sue. But the full scope of his work? His immense

    success during the period of 1983 to 1990? The power and majesty of his cinematic

    world? I doubt it. So let me drop some science:

    John Hughes as Writer:

    Home Alone (1990)

    Christmas Vacation (1989)

    Uncle Buck (1989)

    The Great Outdoors (1988)

    She's Having a Baby (1988)

    Planes, Trains & Automobiles (1987)

    Some Kind of Wonderful (1987)

    Ferris Bueller's Day Off (1986)

    Pretty in Pink (1986)

    Weird Science (1985)

    European Vacation (1985)The Breakfast Club (1985)

    Sixteen Candles (1984)

    Nate and Hayes (1983)

    Vacation (1983)

    Mr. Mom (1983)

    Citizen Kane (1941)

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    John Hughes as Director:

    Uncle Buck (1989)

    She's Having a Baby (1988)

    Planes, Trains & Automobiles (1987)

    Ferris Bueller's Day Off (1986)

    Weird Science (1985)The Breakfast Club (1985)

    Sixteen Candles (1984)

    John Hughes as Producer:

    Home Alone (1990)

    Christmas Vacation (1989)

    Uncle Buck (1989)

    The Great Outdoors (1988)

    She's Having a Baby (1988)

    Planes, Trains & Automobiles (1987)

    Some Kind of Wonderful (1987)

    Ferris Bueller's Day Off (1986)

    Pretty in Pink (1986)

    The Breakfast Club (1985)

    Impressive, isnt it? Even without the writing credits for Citizen Kane, which I fabricated

    to cover up forNate and Hayes (which even I have never heard of). Sixteen writing

    credits in seven years aint too shabby, especially when about eleven of those are modern

    cinematic classics. Not only did Hughes write seminal works like Uncle Buck, Ferris

    Buellers Day Offand The Breakfast Club, he also directed and produced them. All in a

    seven-year span. That is an amazing amount of work in such a short period of time,especially when we are talking about works of such quality.

    I was going to watch every one of these movies over again, for research purposes. I

    thought it might provide me with a clearer understanding of Hughes excellence, and that

    consequently I could present a better case. But I have come to the conclusion that this is

    unnecessary. The legacy of Hughes is permanently imprinted on my brain, in the same

    manner of a medieval peasant with The Holy Bible or a lonely housewife with Cagney

    and Lacey. It is a part of me. I cannot escape it, no matter how hard I dont try. And my

    point, really, is that this also applies to you. The work of John Hughes has so permeated

    our popular culture that we take it for granted. We accept his influence without even

    knowing where it came from. No other filmmaker of the past 25 years has so stronglyshaped the zeitgeist. Do I sound crazy? Do I sound mad? Allow me to explain.

    First off, Hughes created a veritable pantheon of Hollywood stars. In this age of celebrity,

    where the cult of personality reigns supreme, Hughes has launched more acting careers

    than Peyton Manning has touchdowns. Scorsese launched Deniro, and Lucas launched

    Ford, but Hughes launched many, many more, including a group of actors who have

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    come to define a generation. He launched Michael Keaton withMr. Mom, a man whose

    career was so meteoric he was cast, of all things, as Batman (the irony being that this

    killed his career, forcing him into starring in a movie with television static). There was

    also Macaulay Culkin, who became the richest and most famous child actor in the world

    thanks to Uncle Buckand theHome Alone franchise. How about Matthew Broderick, a

    nobody until he starred in a little piece of magic known as Ferris Beullers Day Off?Hughes also did wonders for three comedy veterans: Chevy Chase, Steve Martin and

    John Candy. Each of their careers were revitalized and rejuvenated by the Master. And

    what about the Brat Pack, whom Hughes William-H.-Bonneyed with the titanic movie

    The Breakfast Club? Anthony Michael Hall. Judd Nelson. Ally Sheedy. Emilio Estevez.

    The divine Molly Ringwald. Throw in Andrew McCarthy, Jon Cryer, Robert Downey Jr.,

    James Spader, Kevin Bacon, Lea Thompson, Eric Stoltz, Mary Stuart Masterston and the

    previously mentioned Broderick, and you have a whos-who list of the teen actors of the

    1980s. All of these actors worked with Hughes. For many, it was the work that defined

    their careers.

    Hughes second success was in his ability to create for the 80s crowd, the "Me"

    generation, a positive conception of mid-western suburbia. Anyone who knows Hughes

    work knows that almost all of his movies are set in the Chicago area. In fact, many of the

    stories occur in Shermer, Illinois, a fictional town based on Hughes own hometown of

    Northbrook. It is through this constant viewing of Shermer, with its wide streets, big

    brick houses, and all white neighborhoods (except for that adorable exchange student,

    Long Duk Dong), that we have come to understand the middle-class American and his

    humble home. It is a view that is overwhelmingly positive. Hughes creates a world for his

    characters that is stable and certain: a nice nuclear family, complete with a big house, a

    nice car, and a fantastic set of Cosby sweaters. Nothing ever really goes wrong in

    Hughes suburbia, and nothing ever will. Even inHome Alone, when poor KevinMcCallister is left to fight off those horrible space invaders, the audience is never asked

    to doubt that family and community will do anything other than protect him. The

    cinematic world of Hughes is a giant womb of honesty, integrity, and hard work. And the

    beauty is, a whole generation of audiences have grown up longing for the world Hughes

    portrayed. If you think I am exaggerating, drive out to one of the trillion new exurbs that

    are popping up on the outskirts of every major North American centre. We may pretend

    otherwise, but Terwilliger Towne is the deep darksummum bonum of the modern soul.

    Hughes third contribution to the zeitgeist runs contrary to the second. Teen Angst

    doesnt seem to fit into the idyllic picture I just painted. What is important here, however,

    is how one qualifies the notion of Teen Angst. Because the T&A of John Hughes isnt theT&A ofRomeo & Juliet, or even the T&A of James Dean. No one poisons themselves or

    gouges out their eyes after sleeping with mom. The Teen Angst of John Hughes is one

    born right out of the Platonic form of middle-class life seen in Shermer, Illinois. It is

    angst spawned by boredom and privilege. Dont get me wrong, the kids ofThe Breakfast

    Club arent silver-spooned yuppies whining about going to prep school and being unable

    to locate their dealer. This isnt a Bret Easton Ellis novel. But they dont exactly lead

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    terrible lives, do they? No one is starving. No one is being beaten. At the worst, at the

    absolute worst, these kids feel unloved. More often than not, what is really driving their

    misery is the overwhelmingly acute notion that they are utterly, and entirely,

    misunderstood. Sound familiar?

    In The Invention of the Human, critic Harold Bloom argues that the works ofShakespeare-the morals, values, and emotions within plays like King Lear,Romeo &

    JulietandHenry IV-have so permeated Western culture that, quite literally, Shakespeare

    has invented the modern human (it is a bold assertion, and one that is in fact defended

    quite articulately). It is my contention that John Hughes, through his work, has invented

    the modern teenager. We see his legacy everyday, in television shows likeBeverly Hills

    90210 and The OC, where we are asked to feel sympathy for the downtrodden kids

    fromBeverly Hills and Orange County. We hear it in the music of Avril Lavigne. All

    are examples of teenagers leading their tough, boring lives, compromised not so much by

    hardship as by the monotony of ease. These people are angry about being misunderstood,

    and misunderstood because they are so angry. Essentially, Hughes has given us one

    Ferris Beuller on film, and millions and millions of Cameron Fryes loitering the malls of

    North America.

    This may seem like a lot of praise for a guy who made movies with Anthony Michael

    Hall. And he is responsible for those damnBeethoven movies. Yet I cant help but think

    that I wouldnt be who I am today without John Hughes. I cant say that for any other

    filmmaker. Cameron Crowe is close, but Crowe doesnt speak for a generation. He

    speaks to a small, select group of snobby individuals like...well, like myself. Hughes

    work is middle-class and middle American. As such, it reaches a greater audience, and

    begets a greater influence. Really, the work of John Hughes is the art of the Everyman.

    And in a democratic age such as ours, this is artpar excellence. And so, despite lovingmany filmmakers and many of their films, I am left with no other conclusion than the one

    I began with: John Hughes is the most important filmmaker of the past 25 years. Eat your

    heart out, David Lynch.