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While some of the jokes and content of his films have come against modern scrutiny, it’s undeniable that John Hughes‘ musings on teenagerdom and the joys and pains of growing up have aged into timeless universals. Wading through the 80s’ mucky comedic raunch has its rewards in the form of deeply understanding narratives that care about the people on the threshold of adulthood. Hughes’ slapstick “throw popcorn at the screen” humor is the draw, but what keeps fans coming back to his films for comfort is his classical, beautifully truthful look into life. Here are the 7 best John Hughes movies, both as a writer and a director.
Sixteen Candles (1984)
Modern viewers’ discussion of Sixteen Candles mostly limits itself to making sure that anyone hearing it knows the viewer noticed all of its problematic elements. Yet Samantha, Molly Ringwald’s first John Hughes character, is the engine on this scratched and dented Rolls-Royce. With incredible sensitivity, she comes across as a well-rounded portrayal of a teenager, working through the ills of suburban coming of age. The plot is thin but eventful; when Samantha’s parents forget her sixteenth birthday, she is determined to have a good time and get the sweet sixteen life of her dreams despite them. Along the way, her interactions with The Geek (Anthony Michael Hall) hint at the themes Hughes would crystalize later in his filmography of acceptance among teen social groups.
From Hughes’ first time in the director’s chair, it is already immediately obvious who the director is going to be as a filmmaker. Here he develops the quotable one-liners, sweet love story, thoughts on growing up, and bonkers humor (including many musical cues from The Twilight Zone and other media). All with a classical directing style that keeps his films as timeless as they are frozen in the 80s. In its best moments, Sixteen Candles reminds its pimple-picking viewers that growing up is a magical feeling, and it stands apart from his other work by embracing maturity with open arms rather than highlighting the sadness of age.
She’s Having a Baby (1988)
A late period underrated gem in John Hughes’ filmography, She’s Having a Baby takes a look at what happens to a Brat Packian when they marry their high school love and have to grow into a parent of their own. If Kevin McCallister grew into Ferris Bueller, his next stop is Kevin Bacon’s character, Jake, before landing as Chevy Chase’s vacation-weary dad. Before his wedding, Jake pleads with his best friend, Davis (Alec Baldwin in one of his best suits and performances ever), to tell him if he thinks the couple will be happy in their life together. “Yeah, you’ll be happy,” Davis announces, “You just won’t know it, that’s all.”
From this moment on, the movie ties itself to that perfect promise, that description of what even good marriages can be in their earliest years. This portrait of domestic life may come across cheesy to some, as the eye-rolling Election-esque fantasy sequences spoil dramatic scenes while less runtime is spent establishing the core romance. But there’s some real truth here that resonates well. The first and last acts, culminating in a married life montage set to Kate Bush, are startlingly real and honest. She’s Having a Baby showcases the best of Hughes’ musings on family, and how to find fulfillment in being a part of one rather than in rebellion against it.
Pretty in Pink (1986)
From here on out, Hughes has undeniable classics; great pictures that showcase everything that makes him appealing with a minimum number of faults. While Hughes did not direct Pretty in Pink, it is no exception (outside of James Spader‘s entitled brat of a character that doesn’t like hearing the word “no” being a personification of rape culture). An adorable piece, the film follows Molly Ringwald in full hipster mode as her character, Andie, navigates the divide between her working-class classmates and the snobbier rich kids. Through this, a love triangle emerges between Andie, her best friend Duckie (Jon Cryer), and the preppy Blane (Andrew McCarthy).
An old-fashioned story about star-crossed lovers, Pretty in Pink’s greatest choice is capturing fairy tale beauty. Howard Deutch returns to this list, directing with a twinkle in the camera’s lens that makes a high school gym feel like Neverland. There is a modernism in a Cinderella story about a girl who makes her own dress, even if the ending feels a little simplistic. In this world of hairspray and vinyl records spinning from the ceiling, a simple story of overcoming “wrong side of the track” classism fits nicely.
Planes, Trains and Automobiles (1987)
With a title that wages war on the Oxford comma, Planes, Trains and Automobiles is the peak of John Hughes’ comedic sensibilities. Waylaid on his way home for Thanksgiving, Neal (Steve Martin) encounters a jolly new friend (John Candy, commanding the audience to laugh or cry at will) that mellows his uptight rudeness as he tries to get home. Writing and directing scene after scene of comedy gold, from silly one-liners to terrific physical comedy, Hughes discovers a muse in Martin, who perfectly uses his parody of a stiff, white-collar family man as a strong foil.
The film also contains the perfect role for Candy that adds just enough heart to his character that the audience doesn’t hate him through his apologetic-without-being-a-pushover demeanor. Hughes writes an iconic speech for Candy that reminds Martin’s character he is a real person with feelings, rather than just a comedic archetype. This is what makes the film capital G Great; these are real people, trapped in a cartoonish situation until they themselves become nearly, but not quite, as cartoonish. You’d be hard-pressed to find a film with more charm keeping its engine running, and unlike the film’s many titular vehicles, this one just keeps hitting higher gears to the very end.
Home Alone (1990)
While some like to focus on this being Chris Columbus’ third film as a director, Hughes’ fingerprints as a writer are undeniable, from the often-outrageous physical humor to his protagonist’s character arc from scaredy cat to confident master of entrapment. Kevin McCallister (Macaulay Culkin) hates his family, who, during the Christmas rush to leave for vacation, have left him, you guessed it, Home Alone. He’ll have to learn to grow up before Christmas Eve when a couple of thieves (Joe Pesci flexing underutilized comedic muscles alongside Daniel Stern) plan to rob his home.
Hughes’ childish antics have never been more laugh-out-loud silly as his protagonist defends his house from the bumbling intruders. Childish though it may sound, Home Alone supplies heart in the form of Kevin’s mother (an underrated performance from Catherine O’Hara) as she tries to return to him. Kevin’s Scrooge-like realization that he should embrace having a family mirrors the vices many have around the holidays about spending time with annoying relatives, and his genuine arc towards loving them reminds him that he was always happy; he just didn’t know it.
Ferris Bueller’s Day Off (1986)
Oh yeah! From Weird Science to Planes, Trains and Automobiles, Hughes has made clear a very core philosophy in his movies; if you want to mature into success, you have to leave insecurity at the door. Ferris Bueller, the suave, cool, unflappable titular protagonist of Ferris Bueller’s Day Off owns this philosophy, and transforms his best friend Cameron (Alan Ruck) into a living example of it. A teen with the confidence of a politician, Ferris decides one day to take off the day from school and make it one to remember for Cameron, and for his girlfriend, Sloane (Mia Sara). Unlike most of Hughes’ other high school movies, Matthew Broderick’s Ferris is the coolest cat, the opposite of an outcast. Through his antics, Hughes tells his teen audience they can beat the system if they just have the guts to let go of the little things, to stand up to authority. A love letter to Chicago (this writer’s hometown) and playing hooky, the movie is a monument to remembering to relax and enjoy your life for what it is.
The Breakfast Club (1985)
Don’t you forget about The Breakfast Club! But how could you? The story of five kids from different corners of high school coming together for an afternoon of rowdy detention, heart to heart discussion, inhaled substances, and, oddly enough, no breakfast, has become a mythic classic. Like most of Hughes’ filmography, there are some elements that don’t hold up to modern eyes, and many would agree that the romantic entanglements of the movie are, at best, its worst elements. But there’s nothing that captures that teenage moment quite like it. The Breakfast Club bottles that teenage feeling of being simultaneously invincible and powerless against the authority and society that has already decided who you are just as you were trying to figure it out yourself.
Hughes filmmaking as both writer and director is at its peak, creating quotable lines and poster-worthy moments that have stuck with audiences since the film’s release in 1985. As long as there are teenagers, as long as there are those who feel society places them in a box, as long as every comedy TV show from The Simpsons to Community keeps on parodying the dance sequence, The Breakfast Club will be fondly remembered as a movie that, like Hughes himself, gave a generation a voice.
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