John Hughes

If you didn’t sprout boobs or grow body hair in the 1980s the death of John Hughes likely leans little to you. Let’s be blunt, he was neither a great director or writer and to my critical faculties won’t allow me to rate any of his films at the top of the 80s teen flick heap on artistic merit (you have to get past Fast Times at Ridgemont High, Say Anything and Heathers to get to that summit).

Yet when I was 13 all anyone could talk about at school was a movie called 16 Candles. Had you seen it? How many times? Wasn’t it hilarious? Wasn’t Molly Ringwald hot? At his best Hughes was able to uncannily write with the worldview of an adolescent, with all the pitfalls and positives that come with it.

It’s hard not to be struck by the essential shallowness at the core of a film like The Breakfast Club which purports to eschew stereotypes and yet forces it’s characters to pair up and change in ways that make little sense outside a ninth grader’s diary (Ally Sheedy’s character in particular has an arc that defies logic.)  In Hughes’ world adults were clueless, teens were deeply profound, and every heartbreak lasted forever.

Hughes also caught the rhythms of teen speech, the awkwardness of their interactions, the easily bruised feelings and nurtured crushes.

He did direct or write several early films that were aimed at a wider audience, beginning as a part of National Lampoon’s set of stock writers with the awful Class Reunion, and very funny Vacation, which introduced the world to one of Hughes stock players Anthony Michael Hall. He also would follow-up a string of teen flicks with the charming Planes, Train, and Automobiles but She’s Having a Baby would prove to be an ominous flop.

As the 80s became the 90s Hughes stopped directing and started regressing. If his hits began with the mid-life crisis of Vacation and segued into the teendom of films like Pretty in Pink, his focus worked steadily backwards to pre-adolesence (the Home Alone films) before settling for the infantilized dreck of Baby’s Day Out. Don’t get me started on the Beethoven films.

Hughes had a great eye for talent, launching John Cusack, the aforementioned Hall and Ringwald, Eric Stoltz, James Spader, Jon Cryer, Andrew McCarthy, Robert Downey Jr. and others. He also had an ear, bringing several British post-punk and new wave bands such as Simple Minds (with the classic “(Don’t You) Forget About Me” and Orchestral Manouvers in the Dark their first taste of American stardom through his soundtracks and even titling Pretty in Pink after one of Psychedelic Furs’ best songs (sadly re-made in an inferior version for that particular film).

Hughes’ dialogue also had a way of lodging in the brain. To this day I say the phrase “Hot hot very hot” because of 16 Candles. Hughes died unexpectedly today of a heart attack.

From the glorious Ferris Bueller’s Day Off:

The 16 Candles trailer: