Ferris Bueller’s Day Off (1986)

Of all the films that John Hughes wrote, produced, or directed, perhaps none of them are remembered as fondly as Ferris Bueller’s Day Off (though The Breakfast Club certainly has its own following). His chronicling of a day in the life of a free-wheeling teenager determined to take in life before it passes him by speaks to a societal and cultural yearning for freedom while never going overboard with its humorous or dramatic elements. It’s not perfect and parts of it haven’t aged as well as others but there is a purity to this film that time and cynicism have not tarnished.

Rather than spend the day in school, senior Ferris Bueller (Matthew Broderick) hacks his school’s computer system to give his attendance record one more absence to take advantage of and still graduate. He drafts his best friend Cameron (Alan Ruck) to help spring Ferris’s girlfriend Sloane (Mia Sara) from school so the three can spend a day taking in all that downtown Chicago has to offer. Not everyone falls for the much beloved Ferris’s tricks though, as his sister Jeanie (Jennifer Grey) tries to expose her brother’s lies and the school principal (Jeffry Jones) seeks to finally catch his nemesis breaking the rules.

I think this film is the best piece of work by John Hughes because it is one of his most restrained films (despite its indulgence in all kinds of antics). There are certain elements that let you know if you are watching an 80s era John Hughes film. Is it a kind of coming-of-age film? Are most of the young people in it smart, aware, and blessed with plenty of witty dialogue? Is at least one of the young characters working through difficult parental relations issues? If all of these three ingredients are present, along with a catchy soundtrack, then you are probably watching a John Hughes film.

The interesting difference about this film is that Ferris doesn’t go through any formative changes. He’s the same person at the end of the film that he was at the beginning. He ends up with a better relationship with his sister and his friend Cameron but that’s because those two characters are the ones who change over the course of the film. His sister comes to terms with her disdain for Ferris on her own and Cameron decides to stand up for himself after minimal coaching from Ferris. What’s unusual is that these changes happen on the periphery; Cameron’s by a partial meltdown and Jeanie’s via a deep conversation with a punk in a police station. Usually, Hughes’s main character (or the main ensemble cast) goes through some kind of transition that slows the film down and adds a smarmy aw-shucks moment that is somewhat out of place with everything else.

Thanks to his sister’s turnaround though, Ferris manages to avoid taking responsibility for his actions, allowing his wink-and-a-nod lifestyle to continue into whatever future awaits him. Unlike most young adults, we never see Ferris facing the reality that he has to grow up, which makes us question if we can live in a similar spirited way. Does it give us hope that such an existence is possible as an adult? The message of the film is, to quote Ferris, “Life moves pretty fast. If you don’t stop and look around once in a while, you might miss it.” To have that spoken to us by a character makes us wonder if we have been missing it. That’s a powerful takeaway from a teen comedy and one that has been exploited by inferior teen comedies ever since.

I think one of the things that help hold this film together is the decision to break the fourth wall. If Ferris was not allowed to talk to us and fill us in on his take on the things and people around him, he would not come across as a genuine person. Left in the confines of a strict third-person perspective, audiences would view Ferris as an obnoxious slacker who thinks he is enlightened and somehow superior to everyone else. Because Ferris is allowed to interact with us, and does so in such a welcoming and honest manner, audiences bond with him and get emotionally invested in what some would otherwise find to be an unlikeable character.

Matthew Broderick is another key ingredient to this film’s success. Broderick has a very every-man look to him that suits the needs of the character. If Ferris doesn’t look just right, the audience won’t buy in. Broderick looks like the kind of teenager who could float between groups. He’s not too attractive, too weird looking, too nerdy, too pompous, too muscular, or too skinny. But Broderick doesn’t just look the part; he acts the part perfectly. He somehow combines the sarcasm of a teenager, the wisdom of adulthood, and the warmth of a good friend into one person. If you’ve seen even just a few teen comedies, you know that this balance is rare.

I could be wrong in thinking this film is timeless. What does the current generation (aka high school and college students) think of this film? When I was a senior in college, this movie was still popular among freshmen but is that still the case? Sure, kids will probably enjoy the idea of taking a day off to do whatever they want, but will they appreciate more than just the concept of this film?

In this post-Occupy Wall Street era that we live in, can a spoiled, rich, know-it-all white kid from the posh suburbs serve as a protagonist and become a cultural icon? I doubt it and that leads me to believe that Ferris Bueller’s Day Off will lose a healthy percentage of its popularity with each successive generation. Most of that drop-off will be due to the fact that kids don’t pay attention to weekend movies on TV anymore and are growing up with little to no appreciation of what came before the cultural influences they view to be important.

Fortunately, there will always be a minority in each generation willing to look back at what influenced the present. Those lucky few will discover Ferris Bueller’s Day Off and be thankful that they did.

RATING: 4 out of 5

The Lion King (1994)

Save for a pit stop into the European-esque setting of Beauty and the Beast, Disney continues its use of exotic locales for its animated films. Set in the wilderness of the African grasslands, The Lion King features a tonal shift back towards the dramatic while still maintaining much of the flash and sizzle that early entries to the Disney Renaissance brought to the table. The end result may not go down as smooth for some but this film is undeniable as a spectacle to behold.

A multitude of animals from the Pride Lands gathers to celebrate the birth of a new prince, a lion cub named Simba. The rambunctious cub is watched with glee by many but disdained by his uncle, Scar. The devious villain executes a plot that leaves Simba’s father dead while convincing the young prince that it is his fault. Simba avoids death at the hand of Scar’s minions but runs away in self-imposed exile, full of grief over his father’s death. As Simba grows up, he must confront his fears, question what he came to accept as the truth, and return to his homeland to face his uncle once more.

Disney really shoots for the stars here. The Lion King features some heavyweight dramatic elements, a top-notch crew handling the soundtrack, and some of the best animal animation since Bambi. It all pays off pretty well, but seeing it for the first time in many years leaves me thinking this film is just a wee bit overrated.

Much of the animation is glorious. The colors and textures weaved throughout the foreground and background environments expertly present the African plains. The filmmakers gave Disney’s crew of animators a tall task in creating animal characters that actually move like the real animals do. While I am sure that there are a handful of inaccuracies and inconsistencies here and there, the attention to detail is evident and maintained my suspension of disbelief.

As with other Disney movies of the era, the few instances of CGI-traditional animation fusion (including parts of the signature wildebeest stampede) just don’t do it for me. After mentioning this a few reviews in a row, I have to wonder if this comes from modern CGI animation spoiling us with its realism or if I would have actually noticed and complained about this hybrid style had I been an adult seeing it when it initially came out. Special effects never look as good at home as they do on a large theater screen. That is just a fact.

The music and songs of The Lion King are the stuff of legend. As with Aladdin, there are actually only five songs in the original version of the film (they added a new ditty to the special edition version that I watched but I’m able to look past it). Unlike its predecessor, four of the five songs are terrific and continue to be popular to this day. It’s hard to imagine anything less with such talent involved (Elton John- music, Tim Rice-lyrics, Hans Zimmer- conductor). Only Scar’s tune, “Be Prepared,” lacks staying power, but how many villain songs actually have much popularity with the kids anyway?

Believe it or not, I find the most fault with the characters and the story of this film. Once again, Disney’s dastardly villain is effeminate. Why does Scar, who looks and occasionally acts fierce, have to slink around like the female lions and utter whiny sarcasm with a British accent? Scar and Jafar seem cut from the same cloth- powerful villains watered down with what could be mistaken for stereotypical homosexual qualities and mannerisms. To top it off, his musical number is full of Nazi imagery (goose-stepping hyenas anyone?), which makes the characters as a whole feel somehow disjointed and confusing.

Speaking of the hyenas, I found them to be very creepy; I imagine many small children being terrified of them then and now. They aren’t the only supporting characters that get it wrong for me either. Timon and Pumba, joyfully raucous as they are, flood their scenes with non-contextual humor that doesn’t fit with either the African setting or the serious tone of the rest of the film. Had The Lion King gone for broke with the funny throughout (a la Aladdin), their antics wouldn’t have been as detrimental to my overall rating. When the rest of your film smacks heavily of Hamlet, it’s nice to have some comic relief. But these two go a little overboard at times, as if their existence is to entertain and engage those kids who might be bored with the rest of the film’s adult overtones.

There is a lot going on in this film, which sometimes can be disastrous. Fortunately for Disney and audiences alike, The Lion King walks its tightrope with deft precision. Several pitfalls and traps lie throughout its 88-minute runtime, but it never gets too carried away in its seriousness or its silliness. I can’t fault anyone for thinking this is one of Disney’s greatest films but I will certainly disagree with them. It functions well enough as an epic animated spectacle but, if you look closely, you can see where the gloss and glamour run a little thin.

RATING: 3.75 out of 5