Teen Directors II:
John Hughes
by
Ross M. Miller
Miller Risk Advisors
www.millerrisk.com
July 14, 2008
If single person is responsible for turning teen movies
into a separate genre, it is John
Hughes, the genre's king. Hughes started as a screenwriter and scored
a hit early in the 1980s with National
Lampoon's Vacation (which had the two teenage children in it) and
soon became a writer/director, making teenagers the centerpiece of his
films.
The secret to John Hughes' success is that he takes
teens seriously. With minor exceptions that were noted in the previous
commentary, earlier teen movies focused more on teens' bodies than their
minds.
Hughes' first two teen movies, Sixteen
Candles ("16C") and The
Breakfast Club ("TBC") were a package deal. Hughes
wanted to do TBC, but had to do 16C first to get it made. While 16C is a
perfectly good Hughes film, it was TBC that really get Hughes noticed.
The Breakfast Club had many of the ingredients of
a typical Broadway play of the time, only with teenage characters instead
of the usual neurotic adults. At its core, the film is an extended group
therapy session in which the psychiatrist has left his patients to their
own devices. Such a movie could easily go very wrong, but Hughes arguably
manages to pull everything off.
There are two reasons that TBC works. First, rather than
yield to the temptation to make all five characters equal in importance,
Hughes, a fine screenwriter, makes the Bender character (played by Judd
Nelson) the force that propels the movie. While Nelson lacks the
acting chops of a Robert
Downey Jr., who tended to get bit roles in other Brat
Pack movies, Nelson does fine as the edgy "criminal" in the
film. The second reason that TBC works is the #1 hit song "Don't
You (Forget About Me)," which was written specifically for the
movie. While the song itself did not add that much to the movie, it was
made into a popular video that incorporated clips from the movie that
would double as a free movie ad on MTV.
A deeper reason for the success of TBC and the emergence
of teen movies is that society had turned teenagers into miniature adults.
The dysfunctional American family is the character lurking in the wings of
the 1980s teen movie. Family problems dominate the TBC therapy session.
While the 1960s beach party movies were decidedly middle-to-working class
California affairs, John Hughes takes us to the nouveaux riche living in
the Chicago 'burbs. We cannot give Hughes credit for this important change
of venue, Risky
Business, which takes place in toney Glencoe,
came out two years before TBC and a year before 16C.
As someone who attended an inner-city public school more
than a dozen years pre-Breakfast Club, that movie is laughably tame.
Weekend detention was unheard of at my high school, probably because no
one would ever show up for it. A teacher who left the detainees alone for
even a moment might return to a most unpleasant situation. I never got
detention because for an honor student to be sentenced there was
tantamount to the death penalty. (The only time I can remember staying
after school was in my 12th grade honors math class when the entire class
had to stay after for some trivial infraction that I can no longer
recall.)
The Breakfast Club is a very good movie, but it
is not a great one. John Hughes would serve up his masterpiece with his
next teen movie, Ferris
Bueller's Day Off ("FBDO"). Although that movie uses the
standard plot devices that are taught in Screenwriting 101, it transcends
the formula that by doing something altogether radical: It shows what a
wonderful teenage (or even adult) day would be like. Matthew
Broderick is the perfect Bueller because he gives us a Ferris who
thoroughly enjoys being Ferris.
Beyond Broderick's Bueller, the movie has a dynamite
supporting cast, with the possible exception of Mia
Sara, who never really hits her stride in the nearly unfillable role
of Sloane Peterson, Bueller's lady friend. (The problem is that Sloane has
to be wonderful, yet not upstage Ferris.) Alan
Ruck is inspired as Bueller's buddy, Cameron. Ruck goes well beyond
the Curtis Armstrong variety
teen sidekick. Edie McClurg,
the principal's secretary who gets to deliver the definitive description
of everyone who considers Ferris a "righteous dude," is just
adorable. Jeffrey Jones (Beetlejuice), Jennifer Grey (Dirty
Dancing), and,
Ben Stein (Nixon speechwriter) are all spectacular as well.
The materialism that remains largely as subtext in TBC
is on full display in FBDO. Ferris and Cameron lounge around rooms that
are giant product placements for The
Sharper Image catalog. Getting back to economics for a minute, the
emergence of teenagers as major consumers in the '80s is undoubtedly
linked to the rise in movies about them that was so prominent in the
middle of that decade. While two working parents may have help cause the
problems chronicled in the Hughes films, it also provided teens with
beaucoup de discretionary income to spend on things like movie tickets.
Moreover, the expansion of movie viewing from theatres to cable and video
rentals was a big boon to the genre. Finally, given the pervasive
gloominess of 1970s films and the trendiness of affluence as demonstrated
by Ronald Reagan and J.R. Ewing, audiences were ready to watch rich kids
be protagonists.
The success of the Hughes films led of teen films galore
as well as early twenties films that followed the same general formula and
could accommodate aging Brat Packers whose credibility as teenagers, which
was sometimes minimal to begin with, had vanished completely. Directors
Rob Reiner and Savage Steve Holland would take a minor actor in 16C, John
Cusack, and make him a star of a series of Hughes knockoffs in the middle
of the 1980s. (Curtis Armstrong solidifies his sidekick role in the two
Holland films.) It was not until the end of the 1980s that Cameron Crowe,
the subject of the next commentary, would make Cusack legendary.
Copyright 2008 by Miller Risk Advisors. Permission granted to
forward by electronic means and to excerpt or broadcast 250 words or less
provided a citation is made to www.millerrisk.com.