A BLESSING IN MEMORIAM

In the previous post, I mentioned my affection for the writing of John Hughes and how his writing has served as an inspiration for me over many, many years. At this post, I would like to present a lengthy tribute I wrote in honor of John Hughes after his untimely passing in August.  I am placing it here on "Savage Cinema" for a specific reason...

Sometimes, when I am gearing myself up to write or if I am not feeling terribly motivated to write a review or even pursue my creative writing, I often think about Hughes and wonder what he would have done. That answer is simple: he was a writer and he would've kept writing for as long as possible. It is that sentiment that I would like to use as a blessing to begin work on this blog.

If you are a fan of John Hughes, I hope you like this tribute. Furthermore, as you read it, I hope that you will take the time to think of anyone that has positively influenced your life. From either someone in your family or circle of friends to anyone else in the world be it a political figure, artist, athlete, anyone living or dead, anyone that you have connected with on some level.

In honor and in memorium, here is my tribute which was originally written between August 6, 2009-August 9, 2009...


"MY HERO: A TRIBUTE TO JOHN HUGHES 1950-2009"

When I arrived home from work and an afternoon dentist appointment, on Thursday, August 6th, my wife greeted me at the door with a solemn look on her face and quietly said to me, "Scott, I'm sorry but I have some bad news. John Hughes just died."
"What?!" I said quietly, simply stricken with the obvious disbelief at what Holli had just said to me.
"He had a heart attack in New York City," she said and with that I went straight to our computer to see what news I could find and at that time, it was not much more than what she said to me. John Hughes was visiting family in New York, went for a morning walk and suffered a fatal heart attack. He was only 59 years old.
To anyone that has ever known me, Writer-Producer-Director John Hughes made an impact on my life of such importance and profoundity that there are so many parts of who I am that would not have emerged if not for him and his work. I never met him, although I deeply wanted to, for no other reason than to have the opportunity to have a few moments with him to just say, "Thank you." While I have always known the likelihood of that wished for meeting would never happen, now that he is really gone, the finality has stopped me cold. So, if you don't mind, I hope you will allow me to take some of your time as I would like to express what he meant, and still means, to me.

PART ONE: 'PLEASE ALLOW ME TO INTRODUCE MYSELF...": WHEN I FIRST SAW "SIXTEEN CANDLES"

My introduction to the work of John Hughes was inauspicious. I, of course, had seen "National Lampoon's Vacation" (based on Hughes' childhood family trips) and "Mr. Mom" (based on Hughes' experiences as a house-husband raising his two sons) but had no idea of the creative force behind them. In 1984, I was 15 years old and my Freshman Year at the University Of Chicago Laboratory Schools was beginning to hit its final paces as we all edged our way towards summer vacation. I was excitied for the summer movie season, especially for "Indiana Jones and the Temple Of Doom," and I was a bit curious about "Sixteen Candles," a film I had seen commercials for and I knew had been receiving some surprisingly good reviews considering the film was part of a genre that rightfully had little critical respect as most of those movies during that period had no respect for the audience they catered to. And then on one evening, I received a fateful phone call from my cousin Adam.

"Hey Scott!" he began. "I wanted to tell you about this GREAT movie I saw last night.""What is it?""'Sixteen Candles'!" he announced.
"Oh yeah. I really want to see that. It looks really good."
Then, the conversation took an unusual turn.
"You don't understand," Adam said. "When I tell you that this was a great movie, what I mean is that this movie is for YOU!"
"Huh?" I squeaked out in an appropriately confused manner. "What do you mean it's for me?"
"I sat through this movie and the whole time, I thought to myself, 'This movie is for Scott! This movie IS Scott!' You HAVE to see it."
Adam had a certain seriousness in his tone that was typically unlike him. Although he was my cousin, I saw (and still see) Adam as an older brother figure. He was someone who, in my eyes, was much cooler than I could ever hope to be, more experienced, more knowledgable, more of just...EVERYTHING and I always felt so graced when he would be willing to spend time with me. Whenever he happened to have advice he was willing to share, I grabed it with both hands, always feeling that if I were to not take heed, any subsequent failures would've been from my own undoing at not listening when I had the chance. With that brief phone conversation, I really had no idea of what he was talking about and for reasons I just do not know to this day, "Sixteen Candles" passed me by on its theatrical release and I never saw it.

Later that year, in the first part of my Sophomore Year (possibly in the early winter), "Sixteen Candles" arrived as a home video release. One Friday evening, my Dad and I went to a local video store and rented three films for the weekend, of which "Sixteen Candles" was a selection. That night, my Dad watched his movie as I quickly fell into an after dinner slumber on the basement couch. I came to at around 1:00 a.m. to the sight of "SCTV" on my screen with the volume turned down fairly low. My parents had long retired for the night and as I became more alert, I impulsively decided to give "Sixteen Candles" a try. I placed the videotape into my VCR and began to watch.

My first reaction during the opening sequences of the film was unadulturated hilarity. This film was FUNNY! The story was an instant grabber, the character of Samantha Baker (beautifully portrayed by Molly Ringwald) was instantly likeable and the film was presented in a heightened slapstick style with simply unbelievably razor-sharp terrific dialogue that kept me laughing often, vigorously and loudly...so much so that at one point, I woke up my Mom who then stood at the top of the basement stairs wondering in a most annoyed fashion just what was I doing. I apologized and I would explain it to her later. I tried my best to keep it down afterwards but it was extremely difficult.

The point at which the film changed into something magical was a quick moment after foreign exchange student Long Duk Dong (Gedde Watanabe) happily drives away in Samantha's Grandfather's car with his busty "new style American girlfriend." As Samantha watches them quickly sail away, she sighs at the end of an excruciatingly frustrating day involving a frantic family, an older sister's wedding plans, the endless pursuit by Freshman Farmer Ted otherwise known as "The Geek" (Anthony Michael Hall in a blistering star-making performance) and an earth shattering crush on Senior Jake Ryan (Michael Shoeffling), and says...

"The Donger's been here for only five hours and he's got somebody. I live here my whole life and I'm like a disease."

That one moment made me realize that I was seeing something truly, deeply special and I'll explain why.

I will first say that while I did have some good times in high school, had some great experiences with friends and relationships I'm proud to have to this day, it is a period I would never return to if I could. I've always said that it wasn't a tortured existence and I still hold that opinion but it was a time when I didn't feel comfortable in my own skin. Certainly not a revolutionary thought when thinking of their own adolescence but for all of us, our insecurities are our own and so completely individualized. For me, the crosses I felt I had to bear were endless.

I never felt that I could wear clothes well as I was always trying to figure out what my "look" could be. I had my baseball cap and that was somewhat of a trademark but the rest of me felt extremely self-conscious and I needed significant help and I wanted to get away from the Izod look my parents had foisted on me forever.

I had my weight issues to deal with and sometimes I just wanted to hide away (and I DREADED the swimming unit in gym class--locker room horrors, being so exposed in front of girls, you name it). I felt that would always be a factor in tryng to be a romantic possibility to girls and it always made me feel so sad. Of course, girls were a tremendous issue as I didn't feel attractive or interesting enough for them. I thought I could be if given the chance, as I was interested in falling in love and having the potential of being someone's boyfriend. My heart had already been broken and I was scared. Then, in the back of my mind I couldn't help but to wonder if my race would have anything to do with a girl not wanting to give me a chance. I was an African-American in a predominatly white high school and I couldn't help it, that feeling was there. The heart wants what it wants and I was afraid that someone else's heart wouldn't want me.

Then throw in all of the academic pressures of attending this well-known private school which was designed to prepare you for college. I was an average student, still trying to find my way and I instinctively knew that there would always be someone better at something than myself. My parents were relentlessly strict and didn't give an inch on my education (and rightfully so). That said, they were at times cruel with their demands and repercussions when things didn't pan out as they felt they should. So, I always felt that I was a constant source of disappointment to them. I wasn't going to be a doctor. I wasn't going to be athletic. I loved movies, music and books and somewhow the writing bug was beginning to emerge in me. I was a heart-on-sleeve romantic (and still am) and I felt I was everything my parents DIDN'T want me to be.
And then, I didn't even live near my friends who all resided in beautiful Hyde Park. It wasn't that much of a problem (and though it was surprisingly one of my Dad's regrets that we didn't live there) but it did keep me at a certain distance, somethng I cherished but also something that made me feel lonely sometimes.

While I had my stint as a drummer in my rock band, Ground Zero and and my "SNL"/"Monthy Python" inspired and increasingly ironic and sarcastic humor to assist me, it wasn't much and I felt so visible and invisible and I just didn't know where I could fit, if at all. So when Samantha Baker said that line of dialogue, it made me look at this character, as well as mysellf, and I honestly out loud said to no one, "That's it! That's how I feel." In just those two lines of stunning dialogue, the confusion, heartache, loneliness and insecurity I felt about myself and my time in school was communicated back to me and for once, I didn't feel alone in the world.

I kept watching, continuing to laugh harder and harder but my heart kept pounding more urgently for Samantha to find happiness. For someone to just listen to her, to understand what she is feeling, to take her aside and see her for the winning personality I could easily see in her. And then, it happened, one of the most romantic sequences I have ever seen in any film. The wedding is over, the patrons are driving away and Samantha faces one more disappointment as she just misses giving her wildly inebriated sister her wedding veil. As cars drive away, it is slowly revealed--to The Thompson Twins' slow, dreamily synthetic "If You Were Here"--that a shiny red sports car with Jake Ryan standing outside of it is waiting for her and only her. And then, the film's gorgeous final shot of Samantha and Jake siting on a table top with a birthday cake between them and the freeze frame on their kiss, so long awaited, so truthful, so deserved and earned. Yes, it was fantasy but it gave me hope that I could also have that moment one day.

As the end credits rolled, my heart was lifted and I just couldn't speak. I was elated with what I had seen and as I thought about it all, I realized that in addition to being one of the funniest films I had ever seen, in addition to having some of the most unique and instantly quotable dialogue I had heard in any movie, so much of it, no matter how outlandish situations became, felt to be the most correct depiction of teenagers I had ever witnessess on film. I had LOVED "Fast Times At Ridgemont High" (directed by Amy Heckerling and written by the GREAT Cameron Crowe), "Valley Girl" (directed by Martha Coolidge) and the still influential and almost European feeling "Risky Business" (written and directed by Paul Brickman) but "Sixteen Candles" was something on another plane. I knew people like the ones in that film. We did those things. We spoke like that. And most importantly, this movie presented how I felt as I navigated those school hallways every single day, like nothing else I had ever seen. Adam was entirely correct. This movie was for me and I hadn't seen anything like it before. At that moment, I felt compelled to discover who could have been responsible for something so perceptive and true to my heart. I rewound the tape to the opening credits and saw the notification "Written and Directed by John Hughes" and thought to myself, "I have to remember this guy's name."

I watched "Sixteen Candles" four times that weekend and I rented it over and over and over. At school, I told anyone within earshot about it and I just wanted absolutely everyone to see it (if they already hadn't). I just couldn't imagine that anyone would not be able to see what I saw and feel how I felt and while most people really liked it a lot and it was talked about, I never had the sense that it was as beloved as I had felt about it. I may be wrong but it seemed like it was something special, just for me.


PART TWO: METAMORPHOSIS, A LIFE FOREVER TRANSFORMED
A few months later, in February 1985 (after I had turned 16 years old), "The Breakfast Club" was released and this time, I was ready! Adam and I went opening weekend and afterwards, my life had been deeply altered. Once again, it was extremely funny but John Hughes had created something that shook me to my core. I had never seen any film that took the issues of my age group so seriously and so tenderly. I felt that Hughes was giving respect to the audience by not treating us as a product but as people with real issues and problems that were as weighty as any adult issue. For the brain, athlete, princess, basket case, criminal and all of us in the audience, this film empathized and challenged us to think about sexual competition and expectations, parental pressures, the agony of the high school social structure, the fury of peer pressure, child abuse, issues of suicide as well as life-long ideas about compassion, acceptance and tolerance. Hughes and his unbelievable cast made a beautifully realized piece that still rings true and amazes me with its subtle complexity. I rewatched it last winter after not having seen it for many, many years and one little moment jumped out. At the film's start where the five students are being dropped off to report to their Saturday dentention, only John Bender (iconically played by Judd Nelson) arrives without a parent. Even the strange, silent and stunning Alison (Ally Sheedy) whose speaks of how her parents ignore her arrives with her parents. Bender does not and the rage he actually doesn't give voice to thorughout the film and whatever terrors await him at home informed that character intensely.

Surprisingly, Adam actually didn't like it much as he said he couldn't relate to it very well. But that was OK for me as it felt more personal, more "for me" in that the film was ultimately a symbioitc experince as I could pour out my heart to it and it did the same in return. It communicated in such a direct, honest, complex, sympathetic, non-condescending, non-judgemental way. It made me feel a little more secure with myself by showing me that it was Ok to feel how I felt and it taught me to begin to believe in myself, that the person I was was an OK person to be. As before with "Candles," once "The Breakfast Club" hit video, I watched it over and over and over and over. I even watched it once with my parents hoping they coold spot me in it but they said nothing about it.

Shortly after the theatrical release, John Hughes made a rare television appearance on a local Chicago news program. I couldn't wait to see him as I was curious what he looked and sounded like. When I saw this tallish man, wearing a jean jacket adorned with a Chicago flag pin, with long shaggy brown hair, owl shaped-horn rimmed glasses, and this quiet, deep and articulate voice, I was beyond happy. He just seemed to be so cool, like a big brother or cool uncle and perfectly seemed to fit any fantasy I had of what this writer/director could be like in person.

PART THREE: GET TO KNOW YA...AND MYSELF

For the remainder of high school and afterwards, I saw every John Hughes film either on its opening weekend or at special advance preview screenings as every film was a new entry to my inner high school survival guide. The cheerfully vulgar and uproarious "Weird Science" (1985) dealt with issues of self-esteem, while 1986's "Pretty In Pink" (tenderly directed by Howard Deutch) was an aching love story that was also an exploration of peer pressure and the class issues that divide us. "Ferris Bueller's Day Off" (also from 1986) was a joyride in every sense of the word and was an antidote to my difficult Junior Year of high school. Euphoric, jubullient, hysterical, and philisophical, it was also a love story to Chicago as well as a beautifully bittersweet portrait of a friendship on the cusp of transformation. Film critic and columnist Richard Roeper has hailed it a "suicide prevention film," and I would have to agree. The wistful "Some Kind Of Wonderful" from 1987 (also directed with great empathy by Howard Deutch) was Hughes' ode to individualism and praising who you are as a person over any status you may hold within any group--and Mary Stuart Masterson's performance as the outcast Watts the Drummer Girl remains one of my favorite Hughes characters as she always remained true to herself and her loyalties even when her heart was breaking.

My favorite John Hughes film is unquestionably 1988's "She's Having A Baby," his most personal film, highly autobiographical and starring Kevin Bacon as Hughes stand-in Jefferson "Jake" Briggs struggling with growing up, a young marriage, impending fatherhood, life desires of becoming a writer and what it means to love and be loved. It was Hughes at his most brilliant with his finest writing, and strong directorial risks with madly inventive surreal touches, including a Buzby Berkley styled dance routine on suburban lawn with lawn mowers, lemondade and sprinklers. For me, there is no finer moment in a John Hughes film than the climax, shatteringly set to Kate Bush's "This Woman's Work" (which was written especially for the film), where Jake is worridely waiting in the hospital as his wife Kristy (Elizabeth McGovern) is experiencing a difficult and potentially life-threatening delivery. Jake sits and ponders all of the mistakes he had made over the course of their five year marriage. How he hadn't trusted enough. How he hadn't loved enough. How he hadn't given enough and how Kristy had evolved to a place that he was resisting. As Ferris said poignantly, "Life moves pretty fast. If you don't stop to look around once in a while, you could miss it." Jake realizes that being so deeply into his own miseries, he was missing what was in front of him and now, he could possibly lose it all. The sequece is a majestic piece of editing, cinematography, music, emotion and passion and I was so proud of Hughes for reaching so high and deep and bringing it all to us so honestly. "She's Having A Baby" is one of my favorite movies ever and it's box office failure surprised me and saddened me. It has been so underseen and underappreciated and I couldn't help but to wonder what would have happened to Hughes had it been a financial and critical success. But, we do have this film and I just watched it again yesterday in his honor.

During that period (and beyond) I scoured newspapers and magazines of all sorts for any interviews, behind the scenes information and tidbits that would help me understand this man who seemed to understand me so amazingly well. (After building up such a massive collection of material, I created two giant scrapbooks to contain it all--and I still have them today and contributed much of it to "The John Hughes Files.")

I discovered that his own teen years were spent in the Chicago's northern suburbs and that he still lived there with his wife and two sons (Northbrook, IL). I learned that he once worked for the famous Leo Burnett advertising agency and he was actually responsible for the legendary Edge-test shaving ad (the one with the man stroking his face with a credit card to determine the beauty of the clean, close shave).

I found out that he was a writer/editor for the National Lampoon magazine and during the historic Blizzard of '79, Hughes remained at home with his family, happily writing away and decided at the age of 29 to take a life risk. He quit his lucrative advertising job to devote himself entirely to writing. I learned about his process and discovered how, in his own way, he was changing the way I saw movies as a whole as well as changing the way I saw myself.

Cinematically, John Hughes returned the focus of film authorship to the writer by challenging the "auteur theory" which states that a movie's true "author" is the director. Tiring of seeing the writer being the least important person involved with the filmmaking process, Hughes somehow wrestled control for himself and even with films that he did not direct, they bear his signature from cinematography, music, editing, advertising and overall sensibilities. His work led me to the works of other filmmakers of all sorts and just like watching and reading the reviews of Gene Siskel and Roger Ebert, watching Hughes' films were great lessons in movie making. Personally, each film experience left me filled with such happiness as they were all elixirs of truth. John Hughes provided me with a new found perspective of the experience I was going through. He gave me counsel, solace, comfort, understanding and much needed humor, as he taught me to mine any situation for humor while also embracing the times that were painful. He taught me to try and not take everything so seriously, that things were able to be laughed at in some way. Each film was like a quiet message to my heart that said, "Believe in yourself for this shall pass." Yes, a simple sentiment but one I needed. He was a sage to me. He was a poet, a philosopher, and stand-up comedian all in one.

John Hughes was my personal modern day Shakespeare, an ordinary self-made man who had been blessed with a literary talent. I obsessively wrote quotations from his arsenal of endlessly quotable dialogue on classroom chalkboards and notebooks for the remainder of high school and I can still quote his films to this day.

He taught me social life-lessons about humanity and how before we tear someone apart, to just take a moment and think about how a singular act of self-serving cruelty can damage another human being who may be just as confused as you are. Think of that amazing sequence from Hughes' masterful "Planes, Trains and Automobiles" where purple faced advertising exec Neal Page (Steve Martin) viciously unloads on the socially awkward shower curtain ring travelling salesman Del Griffith (heartbreakingly played by John Candy) in a hotel room. During the brutal soliloquy, Hughes keeps cutting back to Griffith, to show us the hurt and pain from Page's words. And valiantly, Del Griffith remains standing and says simply, "I like me. My wife likes me." I have hardly seen a moment of individuality of such empathy and strength and that message prevailed throughout his work as he championed the outsider, the outcast, the confused and the awkward. And as always, it forced his characters and audience, in an entertaining way, to take hard looks at themselves and ask the hard questions about their own sense of humanity.

Hughes was definately an individual as tried his best to march to his own beat. He told his stories his way. But even in his personal life growing up, he was a character. He actually never went to his own prom as he and the love of his life, Nancy, were denied entrace due to Hughes' cowboy boots and Nancy's bell bottoms. He was thrown out of a Buddhist temple duriing his teen years by actually angering a monk by figuring out the sound of one hand clapping (a finger snap). In his professional life, he was adored by actors and yet he enraged studio heads by not always dancing to their tune. And even in retirement, he followed his heart. As the quality of his work and box office response was declining, Hughes was reflective as he said in another interview, "I don't see doing movies past 50. When I feel that I have lost my voice, I'll go away in a puff." And that he did, retiring to northern Illinois with his family, completely away from Hollywood, and owning a farm. I longed for him to come back and possibly just make one more film. One final statement, but it was not to be and his actions were the final statement after all.

John Hughes also instilled a pride in me for my hometown of Chicago, Illinois as he gloriously presented it in film after film for the world to see. He showed me to take stock of where I was and to find the beauty in lives lived in areas where regular people do regular things and are just trying to go through their lives like I am. I LOVED that he shot most of his movies in Chicago while also living there. It just made him that much cooler to me.

John Hughes exposed me to so much new music, so many artists of unquestioned individuality. How my musical horizons widened due to him and the music he listened to and personally handpicked for his stories! I marveled at stories of Hughes' office which was reportedly filled floor to ceiling with albums and his religious jaunts to Chicago's Wax Trax for any and everything. The songs and bands he chose to pepper his films with invited me to try music I otherwise would never have heard and much of remains my favorite music to this day. Over ten years ago, I had the pleasure of meeting Tracey Thorn and Ben Watt, who comprise the English band Everything But The Girl, after a concert. I clumsily told them that I became a fan simply because I had loved their song "Apron Strings," which was used for Hughes' "She's Having A Baby," and had listened to them ever since. Thorn nicely replied back to me, "That's a really GREAT movie. We loved doing it." A miniscule moment but one of connection and I just loved it.

John Hughes' unparalleled writing inspired me to try and find my voice with creative writing and during and after those years, I wrote six short screenplays, and eventually two more and intimately personal screenplays of epic length. I am still very slowly hacking away from time to time at a novel of equal intimacy. I don't know if I would have really found that part of myself if not for him.

PART FOUR: MY HERO

I have had many heroes in my life from friends, colleagues, mentors, artists of all sorts from filmmakers, authors and musicians and my Dad is simply the greatest man I have ever known--a feeling that has been a long time coming but so unshakeable in its certainty. But now, I honor and remember this man, Mr. John Hughes who understood me at a pivitol point in my life and his understanding allowed me the first chances I had in beginning to understand myself. He never was celebrated that much and he never won any Oscars or literary prizes but he was my hero and inspiration. I am forever thankful that he had the chance and was willing to share his talent, skill, sensitivity and humor with the world.

I have shed some tears in light of this news. When John Lennon was murdered in 1980, I was 11 years old and numbed. Michael Jackson's death six weeks ago forced me to re-evaluate so very much about this extremely complicated figure and I am happily singing his songs again. But Hughes' passing has deeply affected me because in an inexplicable way, and although we never ever met and am certain never knew I existed, John Hughes was my friend.

I am tearing up as I write this now simply because I miss my friend.

JOHN HUGHES R.I.P.