John Hughes died the other day.
I'm not espescially mournful, because I never really understood how people could genuinely mourn the death of a celebrity (i just don't think they're "real people"), but I've got to say that most of the films this man had an involvment with - from Pretty in Pink and Breakfast Club to Uncle Buck and Home Alone - have had an effect on me in one way or another. From my undying, sometimes self destructive infatuation with all things red headed, to the music I listen to and to my preoccupation with nostalgic iconography.
The guy really captured an era at its best and because of that there's really no way I, or many people really can look at the 80s without some sense of glittery eyed nostalgia. There's a lot to be said for that.
Teen films now days really don't come close in regards to encapsulating an era like Hughes did, I don't think anyone is going to look back at films like American Pie or Road Trip or whatever as great signifiers of a generation, everything about the majority of teen rom coms made within the last ten or so years has already aged so poorly and just seems dated, fashionless and uncool.
Our children will not be talking about how beautiful Mellisa Joan Hart was in You Drive Me Crazy, nor will they be trawling vintage shops of the future looking for a pair of baggy canary yellow khakis just like the ones that Freddy Prinz Jnr wore in She's All That.
Hughes had a real timeless quality to his film making, something thats hard to find in mainstream film these days. Few films made for mass consumption are able to recreate the kind of charm and sincerity his films brimmed with.
Having said all that bullshit, the guy wrote Maid in Manhattan, Behtoven's Third, Home Alone 3 and Drillbit Taylor (he did that under a different name actually) so much like goo'sd ol' Wacko Jacko its best if you pretend he already died five or six years ago.
here's hoping that bill murray, michael j fox, joe dante, prince or hot chip don't die any time soon.