Friday, August 5, 2011

REMEMBERING JOHN HUGHES-TWO YEARS LATER: a review of "Don't You Forget About Me"


JOHN HUGHES
February 18, 1950-August 6, 2009

Special thanks given to Keith Carlson and Linda York Carlson for providing me with a film I would otherwise have never seen.



“DON’T YOU FORGET ABOUT ME”
Directed by Matt Austin Sadowski
*** (three stars)

It was a journey I had wished that I had taken.

During my adolescence, as I was immersed and enraptured by each new film release from John Hughes, I became particularly obsessed with the idea of having the opportunity to meet him. If I were ever that fortunate, all I could hope for was to have a few minutes where I could simply thank him for the movies that had altered the course of my life and if he were to allow it, perhaps I could even ask him a few questions about his work and process. Due to my Chicago upbringing, I did possess a certain fantasy that since he was a Chicagoan as well (albeit from the Northern suburbs) that a meeting would just fall from the sky as an act of serendipity. It was a dream, to be sure. But still, that dream felt tangible.

Somehow, John Hughes always seemed to be just this far out of reach for me. I did write a few fan letters, which I will never, ever know if he saw and of course, I never received any responses. Yet, I knew friends who wrote to him or some of his cast members and magically, they were enrolled in Hughes’ short lived fan club which graced members with all manner of Hughes paraphernalia and iconography from a newsletter, buttons, posters, music and so on. I never received such a package and I had to live through my friends’ enjoyment vicariously. This was especially so, as after John Hughes' death, a stunningly beautiful blog post written by Alison Byrne Fields hit the media as it described the pen pal relationship she had with Hughes over a two year period and an hour long phone conversation she had with him in 1997, long after he had vacated Hollywood. It was the very relationship I wished that I could have had, as I felt that no one championed him as much as I did. Such is the life of an unrequited fan.

In the summer of 1988, when I was employed in the Ticket Master Call Center, I decided to cast out a few lines. Whenever I received a phone call from someone located in those Northern Illinois suburbs, like Winnetka, Glencoe or Lake Forest, and depending upon the tenor of the conversation, I would occasionally toss out something like, “Northbrook? That’s John Hughes territory isn’t it?” The responses I received from that simple statement varied widely from one person claiming that they knew Hughes’ Mother, to another that went to his high school at the same time but didn’t know him personally, to another gentleman who said, “I wish I had his money!!” Also that same summer, through some high school friends, I even met a young person who was immortalized in “Ferris Bueller’s Day Off” (1986) as the petulant extra who calls out Ferris’ sister Jeannie as a “heartless wench.” Every little tidbit felt as another stepping-stone but to what exactly, as I really was not getting closer to anything.

This search for the man behind the films that raised the bar for the teen film genre and affected a generation of teenagers in the process sits at the heart of “Don’t You Forget About Me,” a lovingly affectionate documentary which serves as a tribute to the career of John Hughes. Additionally, the film is about a fiercely emotional pilgrimage of four young filmmakers from Toronto to Illinois, to potentially find this man if for no other reason to be able to say “Thank you.” How could I not relate to that?

By 1991, the filmmaking career of John Hughes was effectively beginning to wind down. After the astronomical success of “Home Alone” (1990), the biggest box office hit of Hughes’ entire career, he directed only one more film, the saccharine yet heartfelt children’s fantasy “Curly Sue” (1991). He continued to write and produce his original screenplays, yet those original stories were soon overtaken by what Hughes once referred to as “the ‘Home Alone’ business” as all of the major studios wanted a piece of the action. Over time, Hughes’ box office successes became fewer and fewer, he would soon utilize the pseudonym of Edmund Dantes for screenwriting credits, interviews became seldom and suddenly, just as he once proclaimed he would do, John Hughes vanished from Hollywood in a puff.

As Director Matt Austin Sadowski explains, the genesis for this film arrived when he and his Producing partners Lenny Panzer, Michael Facciolo and Kari Hollend had once conceived of the idea of creating a screenplay that would be in the tradition of a classic John Hughes film. Immediately discovering that they would be out of their league with that particular concept, the idea transformed into creating a documentary, which would examine Hughes’ artistic legacy and furthermore, possibly answer the question of why he abandoned Hollywood and would he possibly make a grand return.

What impressed me the very most about this documentary was the access these four young filmmakers were able to receive in regards to their incredible interview subjects. Over the two and half year process of creating their film, “Don’t You Forget About Me” features interviews with Hughes alumni (Ally Sheedy, Judd Nelson, Andrew McCarthy, Mia Sara, Alan Ruck), Hughes’ closest collaborators (Casting Director Jackie Burch and filmmaker Howard Deutch), film critics Roger Ebert and Richard Roeper and even filmmakers greatly inspired by Hughes (Jason Reitman and Kevin Smith). Every single interview is akin to discovering a crucial piece to a larger puzzle and the culmination of those interviews and their anecdotes makes for a treasure trove.

We are able to gather a peek into Hughes’ writing process and his skills as a creative collaborator with his actors. Hughes’ prolific speed and endless creativity is also recanted and one tale in particular was especially mind-blowing for me. Howard Deutch remarks, still with amazement in his eyes and voice, of the time he went to Hughes’ office to obtain some rewrites for “Some Kind Of Wonderful,” the film Deutch would soon be directing for Hughes. As Hughes wrote into the night, Deutch fell asleep upon the couch, awakening hours later to hear Hughes explain that he didn’t work on the rewrites at all but would Deutch please take a look at what he did work on.

It was the first 50 pages of “Ferris Bueller’s Day Off.”

With that story and seeing Deutch’s reaction, I just loved witnessing Deutch’s self-description as being Sallieri to Hughes’ Mozart. Yet, it is a comparison given without bitterness, just an awe of a man’s unusual giftedness with his craft

In addition to the shared stories about John Hughes and the surprise that his films have endured for over 20 years, Sadowski also takes ample time to explore why films of Hughes’ quality just are not being made today. Yes, Hollywood has changed profoundly over the years, not allowing for any artistic risks and making decision solely based upon the bottom line. The film questions if an individualistic talent like Hughes would even survive these days as there seems to be no place for truth and heart when it comes to just making money. Yet during the 1980s, John Hughes miraculously showed that you were able to do both as he wrote from his heart and teenagers came in droves. And aside from some good films here and there, including Director Will Gluck’s excellent “Easy A” from last year, where is that truth and heart now?

I thoroughly enjoyed the footage in “Don’t You Forget About Me” that was devoted to interviewing modern day teenagers, so long removed from Hughes’ heyday, who have somehow connected deeply with his work and are stumped to discover any current equivalents. John Hughes respected his audience passionately and these days, that same love and respect is a shameful rarity. The contempt Hollywood has for teenagers is deplorable as the powers-that-be must think teenagers to be too stupid to realize what they have noticed immediately: everything is filtered through a plastic sheen of prefabricated cool with magazine model ready 20 year olds playing kids. It all rings false and no one is buying the fantasy.

What these kids see in the Hughes oeuvre is exactly what I saw when they were originally released: themselves. The characters of Samantha Baker, Cameron Frye, the five members of The Breakfast Club and so on, remain reflections of the kids they know and the kids they happen to be and that level of recognition has endeared Hughes’ work to a new generation. As one teenager who found a new connection with his own father through watching “Sixteen Candles” (1984), explained succinctly, “I’ve never had sex with a pie but I have skipped school a few times.”

Several terrific sequences in “Don’t You Forget About Me,” center upon Sadowski and his traveling companions trading stories about what John Hughes has meant to them individually. One of my favorite observations referenced Hughes’ romanticism, as Sadowski stated, “I think I even learned to kiss from watching John Hughes’ films.”

Beyond those moments are the great ones where Sadowski and his team arrive in Chicago, check out the sights immortalized on film in “Ferris Bueller’s Day Off” and then, their subsequent trek into the Northern Illinois suburbs. It is during this section where I felt my kinship with these filmmakers to be at its strongest as they make inquiries (much like I did during my Ticket Master days) amongst the townspeople as to their knowledge of Hughes and his whereabouts, as they hope that he will possibly grant them an interview for their documentary. The urgency I felt as I watched these four people discuss and debate exactly how they will approach John Hughes’ house was extremely palpable. What would they say should someone answer the door? Should they all go or just send the female in the group to the door? Should they draft a letter and provide Hughes with a cut of their film or not? Every question feels as if it could get them into Hughes’ inner sanctum or keep them forever locked out and that tension provides “Don’t You Forget About Me” with a weighty sense of hope, as their potential success would speak for all of us.

So, did Sadowski and friends get to interview John Hughes? Well…I’d never spoil that for you, dear readers, as you would have to seek this film for yourselves to find out. “Don’t You Forget About Me” is a terrific post-script to the career of John Hughes and yet, if I had to offer even one criticism, I will preface it by stating it comes from a place of being a fan and not from a place of critiquing film quality. For a film that encompasses so much material, why does “Don’t You Forget About Me” run a scant 73 minutes?! Sadowski and his team obviously had more than enough material, including all of that incredible interview footage, so why didn’t they use more of it and at least stretch the film out to 90 or even 100 minutes? In many ways, “Don’t You Forget About Me” is over before it even starts and when it ended, I just wanted more as the experience didn’t feel complete enough for my tastes.

Despite that criticism, “Don’t You Forget About Me” is surprisingly profound. As the film was being edited at the time of Hughes’ death, collected material obtains a certain poignancy. As Sadowski and his friends wonder if Hughes even knew of how celebrated he truly was, by fans all over the world, you can see how they are all just itching for the chance to show John Hughes the film they have made thus far. A film that would most certainly validate everything he ever did artistically as well as the fans for embracing his work so deeply.

“You usually don’t get a tribute like this until you’re dead!” exclaims Kari Hollend. So sad and yet, so true especially as there has been a career re-evaluation of John Hughes’ work that was mostly analyzed dismissively at the time of the original releases. But Sadowski and his team know better as they present so handsomely with their documentary. Whenever people are touched that deeply by the artistry of one, all of those people cannot be wrong can they?

I also hope that while he was with us, John Hughes knew how much his work was adored far ad wide. That he was appreciated, treasured, and valued. That his characters spoke for us so tenderly, perceptively and humorously. And we all know, now more than ever, that there will never be another filmmaker quite like him.

At the outset of this review, I said that the journey within this film is one I wished that I had taken. But now, as I write, I am realizing that not only have I taken that journey, I think that I am still taking that journey.


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