THE UNPRODUCED WORK OF JOHN HUGHES PART 1: "TICKETS" (1996)

“TICKETS”
WRITTEN BY JOHN HUGHES
DRAFT JULY 26, 1996

I never thought that I would actually see this day.

Dear readers, I am so excited at this time because I have just finished reading a screenplay written by John Hughes. Now, I am certain that you are wondering why a John Hughes screenplay would cause me to be inspired to compose a new posting for your reading pleasure. Well, simply stated, the screenplay in question happens not to be one that provided the basis for any of the films of which we are all so familiar. No. This screenplay happens to be one that was, and still remains, unproduced!!!

Reading an unproduced John Hughes screenplay is akin to hearing unreleased and bootlegged music from one of my favorite artists…say, someone like Prince, who is so prolific and has amassed an amount of music so large that the public will most likely never, ever hear all of it. John Hughes’ status as an extremely prolific writer has been long documented and it seems that he quite possibly wrote a considerable amount of material that would, for practical reasons, never see the light of day. Frankly, I still have no idea of how much Hughes wrote throughout his life but based upon accounts revealed in Writer David Kamp’s outstanding profile on the passing and legacy of John Hughes, published a year ago in Vanity Fair magazine, Hughes was a writer until the day he died...literally. He apparently carried a small Moleskine notebook with him everywhere and reportedly had one on his person when he passed away from a fatal heart attack while taking a leisurely walk on the early morning streets of Manhattan in August 2009.

As discussed in that article’s interviews with Hughes’ two sons, James and John III, the family discovered over 300 Moleskine notebooks along with filled computer discs of material in his offices. Since this period, where some re-evaluation of his work and much deserved appreciation (like his posthumous honor at the 2010 Academy Awards) has been noted, there have been some rumblings about any old screenplays he wrote that may make for strong cinematic entertainment now. At first, it was looking like a comedy entitled “The Grigsbys Go Broke,” would actually be produced but currently, it seems as if those plans have fallen through. Beyond that, here and there on the internet, some scraps of information have been discovered regarding Hughes’ unproduced work. Through some, let’s say…technological means, very recently I obtained a copy of Hughes’ screenplay for a film entitled “Tickets,” the story of a small group of people sitting in line on a brutally frigid Chicago winters night as they wait to obtain free tickets for a band’s farewell concert when the ticket booth opens the following morning.

For the purposes of this written piece for Savage Cinema, I have not given a star rating as it is a screenplay and I feel it to be unfair to really compare this written work at exactly the same level as one of Hughes’ completed films. If John Hughes were to have made “Tickets,” who knows exactly how much would have changed, been added, deleted and modified as he worked with whomever he cast into these roles. Hughes once remarked that a script is essentially a blueprint, but as so many of his actors have made testaments towards over the years, Hughes’ blueprints were uncommonly strong. As for “Tickets,” I read the entire 120-page screenplay rapidly and entirely during the 24 hours after having received it. While all of the John Hughes trademarks were present from his special brand of literate comedy, some Chaplin-esque slapstick, the story’s time span of one evening and the convention of having a small band of characters lumped together and engaged in all manner of conversation, “Tickets” did surprise me by presenting a much darker, tougher, meaner, and considerably sadder affair than his classic films. It was a provocative read and one that truly made me ponder what might have been.

“Tickets” begins shortly after 9 P.M. on a brutally cold night on the Northside of Chicago. Hughes sets the stage in front of what he describes as a “union auditorium built in the twenties, abandoned in the fifties, revived in the eighties as a live music venue.” As the nearby L tracks habitually squeak and squeal, we first meet 30 year old TOM BROOKES, as he sets up his spot on line, complete with an aluminum chaise lounge, cooler and trusty Discman. Tom will soon be joined by the young and diminutive LESLIE HAYES, who arrives with her own chair, toolbox of supplies and is dressed in enormously mountainous clothing for warmth as well as to hide her physique and age.

The shy ASA MARWICK and the more aggressive and athletic OMAR AUGUSTINE, two 17-year-old boys from the wealthy Northern suburb of Winnetka, amble upon the scene complete in fashionably matching ski wear, toiletries, lantern, blankets and a small grill. The older beyond his years Vietnam veteran Hughes describes as a “middle aged, ex-flower child” named MR. 66 (as in the year 1966) is next to arrive and promptly commanders Tom’s chaise lounge, cooler and food, as Tom has momentarily stepped away from his space in line to find some cement blocks to brace his dilapidating chair. Other minor characters, including two unnamed couples, a police officer and the unctuously wealthy Lexus driving MAX CEDRIC and his girlfriend WALLIS CHAMBERS float in and out of the story as well.

Throughout the night, friendships will be formed and broken, prejudices and personal sensibilities will be tested and even one life will be lost as all of these characrets brave and battle the coldness of the weather and even moreso, themselves.

At first, it is easy to make comparisons between “Tickets” and Hughes’ monumental classic “The Breakfast Club” (1985) and during the first third or so of “Tickets,” certain similarities pop out at you. In addition to the story’s conceit and structure, the character of Leslie Hayes, at first, seems to function as a more updated version of Ally Sheedy’s “basket case” character while Mr. 66 functions as the film’s primary antagonist like Judd Nelson’s John Bender. Yet, as the story continues those similarities end as the story plunges into deeper and darker thematic waters and also, Leslie and Mr. 66, respectively take on some surprising, and in the case of Mr. 66, some undeniably tragic turns.

As I previously stated, “Tickets” definitely contained some surprises and what surprised me most was the sense of profound sadness that permeated the piece and still lingers when I think of it now. John Hughes’ films from the 1980’s and 1990’s depicted a world, while truthful, purposefully existed and functioned as modern day fables and wish fulfillment fantasies. It was the world as Hughes saw it but also, it was the world he wished that it could be.

“Tickets,” on the other hand, feels like a film that presents the world a bit more like it really is. Now I am not suggesting that John Hughes wrote something of the equivalent as the most wrenching drama but for what we know of John Hughes’ work, I was staggered to see him reach this far while also remaining familiar. In fact, “Tickets” merges itself very closely with two extremely little known films wich arrived near the very end of Hughes’ film career, the barely released 1998 drama “Reach The Rock” (written and produced by Hughes and directed by William Ryan) and 2001’s “New Port South” (produced by Hughes, written by Hughes’ son James and directed by Kyle Cooper).

“Tickets,” while having many moments of humor, and passages of Hughes’ trademark slapstick and peerless dialogue, is a story about profound endings as it depicts the end of a friendship, the end of a band, then end of a theater and Hughes even goes as far as to end the life of one his story’s primary characters. The story features crippling regrets, enveloping cynicism and brutal failures as well. The name of the band is never mentioned, therefore suggesting that there is much more at stake than a farewell concert. In fact, the screenplay is not even about concert tickets. As Omar states to Asa at the story’s outset, “Tickets are the raison d'etre for a social experience.”

And what a social experience it is as Hughes creates a microcosm of society on this long winter’s night from extremely wealthy to two characters that are homeless. The character of Omar is notable as it features a non-Caucasian character (he’s Persian) in one of the primary roles. Although this draft is dated July 26, 1996, it contains snatches of dialogue and attitudes that are astoundingly up to the minute in regards to issues of class warfare and socio-economic politics. The battle between the 99% and the 1% is waged, sometimes ferociously, through Hughes’ stinging dialogue.

I think it is fitting Hughes set this story in the bitter winter of an equally bitter world as the story deals with the re-gentrification of a neighborhood into something much more homogenized and lacking of characters, color and soul. Beyond that, it is a world where integrity and compassion is in short supply and empty hearted big money trumps humanity itself. More than any other of his released films, Hughes may be suggesting, more overtly, that despite our differences (age, ethnic, economic status), we are all huddled together in a cold, dark world and no matter how desperately we try to ignore our closeness through cynical apathy, we just can’t or else our collective humanity will painfully suffer. This aspect is presented mostly through the character of Tom Brookes, who wants nothing more than to be left in solitude upon his island of a chaise lounge and is often shown frustratingly attempting to sleep as the other characters argue. As he states, after yet another intense encounter with Mr. 66, “I'm a thirty year old who sits on line for free tickets. That's where I begin and where I end. I'm not a member of the Society of Pavement People.” Yet, for some inexplicable reason, Tom reluctantly but continually rises to the aid of others, whether covering for three underage companions from the police, calming a drunken and increasingly belligerent Mr. 66 and even fighting a wealthy blueblood in order to protect his ticket line companions.

But Hughes also suggests a sense of decidedly hard fought hope combined with personal determination and resilience. A lovely passage during a lengthy quiet courtship of sorts from Leslie to Asa contains some of the screenplay’s finest dialogue as the two discuss the feelings that exist at four in the morning as well as the potential trajectories of their respective lives. As the fullness of Leslie’s intensely sad life comes into complete revelation, she offers this admonition to her new friend in regards to her overall Fate, which is, “To a live a long, long time, leave a lot of happy kids, and die clean.”

Now, not everything works in “Tickets.” There is another character simply known as THE BOX. It is a character that resides inside of a refrigerator box, speaks no dialogue and is always unseen, aside from the flap of the box opening and closing. While this is good for a few sight gags and clever reaction shots, I cannot fathom what tis character served to the story as a whole. I could easily see the complete expulsion of this character and it would not change the tone of “Tickets” whatsoever.

The character of Omar is another missed opportunity as he carries such weight for so long and then, Hughes just has him exit the story and there’s essentially not much more to him. Mostly, the success or failure of Mr. 66, and one hallucinatory sequence in particular, would really depend upon who was cast in the role and how strongly the material was interpreted visually. Mr. 66 alters from dangerously comedic to tragic on a dime and it seems that there just needed to be a little something more to make the transitions more fluid and convincing.

But, those flaws aside, “Tickets’ struck me as being a decidedly more honest work than John Hughes was releasing at that time during his career. It could be concluded that Hughes, who wrote this film around the same period as he was toiling away writing and producing entertaining but completely vanilla and to a degree, uninspired remakes of classic Disney movies, desired a return to his creative spirit. Frankly, “Tickets” reads as the kind of film that made so many millions of viewers fall in love with him in the first place.

I often wondered what is career would have been like if “She’s Having A Baby” (1988) was a large box office hit. Would he have made the terrific but albatross of “Home Alone” (1990) at all? Would the trajectory of his career been altered? Would he have remained in Hollywood longer or would he have exited as he did regardless? All questions to which we will absolutely never know the answers but I do have a strong feeling that a film like “Tickets” is where Hughes’ creative heart rested most proudly.

John Hughes once stated that it was the through the making of “The Breakfast Club” where he realized how much he enjoyed working on a film that possessed a serious core and that the experience of making a film like that was something he had been chasing ever since he completed that film. “Tickets” seems to be an honest attempt to try and produce a work that is entertaining and meaningful. “Tickets” is a film I would so proudly pay a ticket to see.

And you know, if I were able, it is a film that I would be proud to bring to life in Hughes’ honor.