{"id":8385,"date":"2017-11-20T13:27:30","date_gmt":"2017-11-20T18:27:30","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/crookedmarquee.com\/stage8\/?p=8385"},"modified":"2018-06-28T13:33:21","modified_gmt":"2018-06-28T17:33:21","slug":"planes-trains-audience-identification","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/crookedmarquee.com\/stage8\/planes-trains-audience-identification\/","title":{"rendered":"Planes, Trains &#038; Audience Identification"},"content":{"rendered":"<p class=\"p1\">\n<p class=\"p1\"><span class=\"s1\">Confession time: Despite coming of age in the \u201980s and landing in the heart of the target audience for John Hughes\u2019 teen comedies, I never identified with the teenage characters in them \u2014 or aspired to be like them, really. Part of this has to do with being gay in the suburbs, an environment where \u201cout and proud\u201d wasn\u2019t even remotely an option and conformity felt like a straitjacket. As much as I was an academically adept social misfit, though, I still couldn\u2019t see myself in the characters played by Hughes\u2019 go-to geek, Anthony Michael Hall. (When Hall subsequently bulked up, it became clear he\u2019d secretly been a jock in disguise all along.) The closest I ever came to feeling some kinship with one of Hughes\u2019 youthful creations was tightly wound worry wart Cameron Frye in <i>Ferris Bueller\u2019s Day Off<\/i>, and he\u2019s about as asexual as they come.<\/span><\/p>\n<p class=\"p1\"><span class=\"s1\">This is not to suggest I felt compelled to throw in my lot with the parents and other authority figures in <i>Sixteen Candles<\/i>, <i>The Breakfast Club<\/i>, <i>Weird Science<\/i>, or <i>Ferris Bueller<\/i>, since they ran the gamut from totally clueless to wary but still capable of being bamboozled by people who aren\u2019t old enough to vote. In order to begin seeing the adults in Hughes\u2019 work as human beings in their own right, it\u2019s necessary to look past the quartet of films that made his reputation to the only one on his CV headlined by two middle-aged men, <i>Planes, Trains &amp; Automobiles<\/i>, which recently marked its 30<\/span><span class=\"s2\"><sup>th<\/sup><\/span><span class=\"s1\"> anniversary with the requisite Blu-ray upgrade.<\/span><\/p>\n<p class=\"p1\"><span class=\"s1\">With no teenagers in sight, the audience for <i>PT&amp;A <\/i>is asked to identify with Steve Martin\u2019s Neal Page, a marketing man on business in New York City who just wants to fly to his tastefully appointed home in the Chicago suburbs to be with his family for Thanksgiving. Neither Hughes nor Martin make it easy for the viewer to completely align themselves with Neal, though, since he\u2019s a prickly customer, quick to lob cutting remarks instead of adopting a conciliatory tone. Then again, he <i>is<\/i> traveling around the holidays, which was stressful even before the TSA stepped in to make air travel more unpleasant, so his testiness with the unhelpful customer service reps he encounters is understandable.<\/span><\/p>\n<p class=\"p1\"><span class=\"s1\">It\u2019s even possible to share Neal\u2019s initial disdain for John Candy\u2019s aggressively upbeat shower-ring salesman Del Griffith, who unwittingly trips him up right at the start of his journey. As much of an over-sharer as Del turns out to be, though, he\u2019s also a good man to have in your corner when the chips are down, a point of view Neal is slow to come around to. No matter what fate throws at them \u2014 and Hughes makes sure fate has a lot of ammo \u2014 Del has a fix for both of them that works out better than what Neal comes up with on his own.<\/span><\/p>\n<p class=\"p1\"><span class=\"s1\">A seasoned traveler who all but lives on the road, Del accurately predicts they won\u2019t be landing at O\u2019Hare, which has been snowed in, and upon their arrival in Wichita correctly surmises their flight will be canceled and arranges accommodations for the night. When the train they board the next day breaks down near Jefferson City, Del knows their best option to get to St. Louis is by bus, even as he warns Neal his \u201cmood\u2019s probably not going to improve much.\u201d When Neal\u2019s rental car turns out to be missing, Del offers to share his. And when it\u2019s time to spend another night in a motel, it\u2019s Del who breaks out the array of snacks and miniature liquor bottles. Then, when his burnt-out husk of a rental car is impounded on the final leg of their journey, Del gets them a lift in the back of the tractor trailer that delivers them to Chicago and an El station that can finally get Neal home.<\/span><\/p>\n<p class=\"p1\"><span class=\"s1\">Utilizing the sturdy road-trip format that served him in good stead in his screenplay for <i>National Lampoon\u2019s Vacation<\/i> four years earlier, Hughes makes getting from Wichita to Chicago by land seem like a challenge on the order of the return of Odysseus to Ithaca. Along the way, our heroes encounter several familiar faces from Hughes\u2019 films, both past and future, starting with Lyman Ward (Ferris Bueller\u2019s oblivious father) as Neal\u2019s fellow marketing executive who has a more laid-back attitude about holiday travel. Also from <i>Ferris<\/i>, erstwhile economics teacher Ben Stein pops up as the airline representative who laconically announces the flight cancellation that throws Neal\u2019s already-precarious plans into a tailspin, and Edie McClurg is the bubbly rental-car clerk who is on the receiving end of his profanity-laden rant when he reaches the end of his tether. (The number of times Neal spits the F-word at Ed Rooney\u2019s secretary in the space of one minute: 18.) And looking ahead to his next film, the semi-autobiographical <i>She\u2019s Having a Baby<\/i>, Hughes cast Kevin Bacon in a wordless cameo as the eagle-eyed New Yorker who beats Neal to a taxi, the first form of transportation denied him.<\/span><\/p>\n<p><a href=\"https:\/\/crookedmarquee.com\/stage8\/wp-content\/uploads\/2017\/11\/screen_film.jpg\"><img loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" class=\"aligncenter size-full wp-image-8387\" src=\"https:\/\/crookedmarquee.com\/stage8\/wp-content\/uploads\/2017\/11\/screen_film.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"750\" height=\"424\" srcset=\"https:\/\/crookedmarquee.com\/stage8\/wp-content\/uploads\/2017\/11\/screen_film.jpg 750w, https:\/\/crookedmarquee.com\/stage8\/wp-content\/uploads\/2017\/11\/screen_film-300x170.jpg 300w\" sizes=\"auto, (max-width: 750px) 100vw, 750px\" \/><\/a><\/p>\n<p class=\"p1\"><span class=\"s1\">The heart of the picture, however, is the interplay between Neal and Del as they bounce off and blow up at each other. As heated as things sometimes get between them, there\u2019s always a reconciliation just around the corner. Their burgeoning camaraderie is put to the test their first night together, though, when they have to share a room that only has one bed. The prospect of sleeping side-by-side so alarms them they try to avoid the topic, but the elephant in the room rears its trunk when Del innocently asks, \u201cYou wanna take a shower?\u201d and Neal instantly cries out \u201cNo!\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n<p class=\"p1\"><span class=\"s1\">This moment of panic subsides, replaced by annoyance as Neal finds out how much of a slob his unwelcome traveling companion is, but it has its sequel the following morning when \u2014 in what is arguably the film\u2019s most famous scene \u2014 he wakes up in Del\u2019s arms and they progressively find out how intertwined they are. \u201cWhy did you kiss my ear?\u201d Neal groggily asks. \u201cWhy are you holding my hand?\u201d Del shoots back, alarmed. \u201cWhere\u2019s your other hand?\u201d Neal counters, narrowing his eyes. \u201cBetween two pillows,\u201d Del replies. Now, when I was younger, I had no problem with the 15-second freak-out that follows Neal\u2019s \u201cThose aren\u2019t pillows!\u201d line, and I\u2019m not particularly troubled by it today. If these guys are so insecure in their masculinity that they have to assert it by invoking football after accidentally being physically intimate with each other, then the joke\u2019s on them, not the gays they\u2019re desperate not to be mistaken for.<\/span><\/p>\n<p class=\"p1\"><span class=\"s1\">Then again, by the time they\u2019re trying to check into a motel the next night, they\u2019ve been through so much together that when Neal pleads with the desk clerk, \u201cHave mercy. I\u2019ve been wearing the same underwear since Tuesday,\u201d and Del chimes in with \u201cI can vouch for that,\u201d neither of them bats an eye or is remotely worried about what this stranger might think of them. That\u2019s progress.<\/span><\/p>\n<p class=\"p1\"><span class=\"s1\">As dated as it sometimes is (the score is a huge tell), <i>Planes, Trains &amp; Automobiles<\/i> remains the Hughes-directed film that holds up best for me. (Confession #2: I\u2019ve never seen <i>Curly Sue<\/i>. Maybe it\u2019s his masterpiece. I doubt I\u2019ll ever know.) Like Neal Page, I\u2019ll be hitting the road to spend Thanksgiving with my family, but unlike him, I don\u2019t even consider flying anywhere unless it\u2019s an emergency. And as much I like to think I\u2019m as generous and gregarious as Del Griffith (without sharing his less-salutary qualities), I see more of myself in the short-tempered Neal, who more often than not is his own worst enemy. Having worked in customer service, though, I know better than to harangue the employees on the front lines of monolithic, bottom-line-oriented corporations, especially around the holidays. Remember, travelers. They\u2019d probably rather be home with their families, too.<\/span><\/p>\n<hr \/>\n<p><em><a href=\"https:\/\/twitter.com\/Hooded_Werewolf\" target=\"_blank\" rel=\"noopener\">Craig J. Clark<\/a> lives in Bloomington, Ind., can say the F-word way more than 18 times in a minute.<\/em><\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"<p>Confession time: Despite coming of age in the \u201980s and landing in the heart of the target audience for John [&hellip;]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":463,"featured_media":8388,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"inline_featured_image":false,"footnotes":""},"categories":[1399,1381],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-8385","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-looking-back","category-movies"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/crookedmarquee.com\/stage8\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/8385","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/crookedmarquee.com\/stage8\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/crookedmarquee.com\/stage8\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/crookedmarquee.com\/stage8\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/463"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/crookedmarquee.com\/stage8\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=8385"}],"version-history":[{"count":0,"href":"https:\/\/crookedmarquee.com\/stage8\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/8385\/revisions"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/crookedmarquee.com\/stage8\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media\/8388"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/crookedmarquee.com\/stage8\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=8385"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/crookedmarquee.com\/stage8\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=8385"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/crookedmarquee.com\/stage8\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=8385"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}