Yes, I did add Ferris to my baby names list. I’m not prepared nor motivated in defending that. As general knowledge in the “80’s teeny bopper” genre, it’s not hard to dismiss Ferris Bueller’s Day Off into easy praise and admiration. Let me tell you this..there is so much more. For me, “more” is finding my legitimate soul incarnate within the “Twist and Shout” sequence. I solemnly swear I could write an entirely separate but equally thorough essay of just how much it means to me. I’ll get to that...eventually.
Ferris. His name is in the title. It’s HIS day off. This review isn’t about him, but his trifurcating adversaries instead. As follows:
Jeanie. Ferris’s blood relative. Other than Sloane, she is the driving female force in this film, and is quite frankly given a lot more skin in the runtime than Sloane anyways. There is also Grace, she’s a relentless gossip, and I adore her, but I digress. It’s true, she has the car, and some sunglasses I’m oddly obsessed over, but this poor girl has chosen to torture her self-image by proxy of her brother’s toxic integrity. Down a spiral of misunderstood adults one by one, I see her victimization as a serious complex Hughes might’ve done passively but that I see deeply. Her grace from beginning to end is mesmerizing to see flourish.
Rooney. No amount of “dean of students” titles could keep me from being immediately disrespectful to this adult man. That being said, this man goes through it. Who knows how much money he blew on an unfair 80’s principal budget suit, and he’s in pieces by the end of this film. Only redeeming quality he’s got are those flip-up aviators. I’m unashamed to say I looked them up for self styling reasons.
Cameron. Easily the most heartbreaking character created by my generation. I find more and more people identifying alongside niche characters, Mr. Frye more often than not upholding that role. Growing up and being..sad..I have had moments of Cameron-ness. The manipulation of others for their own self benefit, jealous of their carefree path they will inevitably track, while I don’t even recognize my own actions, finding myself lifelessly staring at lifeful things. A pointillist girl with a barely tangible face echoes my failure to perceive my own appearance, darkening the red rings around my eyes, and I have suddenly poured out something way deeper than anticipated. You’re welcome.
It’s a day in the life of the 80’s youth, empowered to freedom and a nonchalant crisis of the future to come. For the day, they had a Ferrari, they had pancreas, and they danced with the whole city of Chicago. John Hughes..danke schoen.
ps: truly didn't think i was gonna post more than my "HUMAN" post today, but i'm also gonna be transferring some of my fav reviews from film classes/Letterboxd rants for you guys. stay tuned and happy friyay, y'all.
MO
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