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Wednesday, September 9, 2009
Thursday, September 3, 2009
Tuesday, September 1, 2009
Bill Simmons on John Hughes
Four things amazed me after Hughes' untimely passing. First, I couldn't believe how little I knew about him given he was one of the biggest influences of my formative years, and beyond that, I couldn't believe how little thought I had given to him (not only during that time, but after). Second, I was shocked to find out that he wrote "Mr. Mom" and "Vacation." Either I knew this and forgot it, or I never knew it. Third, if you were doing a 10-round fantasy draft in which you could own the entire IMDB.com resume of any writer/director on DVD, John Hughes would go in the first round ... and I didn't realize this until after he died.
Fourth, it's astonishing how completely he owned the '80s compared to anyone else. When I think of a pure '80s movie, there's a specific time range (1982-1987), a specific bent (teenagers are misunderstood and deeper than we think, adults are evil or nonexistent, rich people and school administrators irrevocably suck), a definitive musical feel (can't be fully defined, but you know it when you hear it), a certain rewatchability (good movies that gained steam culturally once they hit cable) and had to resonate with people of that age range (the future Generation X) in a unique way. Well, I was there. I was John Hughes' target audience: born in 1969, weaned on pop culture, geeky and idealistic, loved music, thought way too much about stuff. And really, if you stuck 20 DVDs in a time capsule as a way to explain to future generations, "This is what the '80s were like," you'd have to include these 15 movies: "Fast Times at Ridgemont High," "Risky Business," "Vacation," "Sixteen Candles," "Beverly Hills Cop," "The Breakfast Club," "Karate Kid," "About Last Night," "St. Elmo's Fire," "Ferris Bueller," "Better Off Dead," "Pretty in Pink," "Can't Buy Me Love," "Rocky IV" and "Top Gun." John Hughes was directly involved in five of the 15. This is amazing. And it doesn't even cover "Home Alone," the greatest kids movie of all-time (in my opinion, anyway).
In the last mailbag, I wrote how it's so difficult for anyone to be overrated or underrated in this day and age. But up until the moment he died, you could argue that Hughes was the single most underrated person in Hollywood. I mean, I follow the movie world as diligently as anyone and was still learning things about him after he died. I wish I had written about him before now, but honestly, it never occurred to me to do so. Which is why he was so underrated.
OK, back to Mike's "Ferris" question. So many readers asked me this that I almost felt obligated to figure it out until I remembered something: Realistically, Ferris and Cameron didn't pick up Sloane until somewhere between 9:30 and 10:15. They lived at least 25-30 minutes from downtown Chicago and returned home at about 6. We know this because Sloane looked at her watch right near the end. So that means in the span of slightly less than eight hours ...
They drove to Chicago; dropped off the car; visited the top of the Sears Tower as well the Stock Market; went to the Museum of Art long enough for Cameron to have a life epiphany; cabbed it over to the French restaurant; ate lunch at Abe Froman's table; headed over to Wrigley Field; attended an afternoon Cubs game long enough for the pizza guy to tell Ed Rooney that it was the third inning (and for Ferris to catch a foul ball); headed back to downtown Chicago; took part in a parade in which Ferris sang "Danke Schoen" on a giant float without having rehearsed it; picked up the car; drove home; hung out at Cameron's pool; spent at least 20-25 minutes trying to take the miles off Cameron's car and watched Cameron subsequently destroy his father's car and then tell them he'd take the heat for it (which always bothered me because no father would forgive something that creepy, and besides, unless his father was molesting him, how bad could he have been that you'd destroy a beautiful piece of machinery like that?); left Cameron's house so Ferris could walk Sloane home; then Ferris sprinted back to his house to make it in time for dinner.
Seems improbable, right? No way all of that stuff happens in less than 10 hours unless they basically made a two-inning cameo at the Cubs game and left. (Conceivable, by the way. How can you top catching a foul ball? And if Sloane hated baseball and pushed for them to leave after 2-3 innings, wouldn't the logical next stop for them -- if a girl who hated sports was running the show -- be that art museum?) But there's no way to know, which leads me to the following idea: Shouldn't three Chicago kids re-enact Ferris' entire day and see if they could pull it off in less than eight hours? Bring a couple of Flip cameras, tape everything, see if you can do it and stick the results on YouTube. John Hughes would be proud.