There are film directors that we revere. Hitchcock, John Ford, Billy Wilder, Sergio Leone, Scorsese, Elia Kazan, Howard Hawks, Kubrick, Speilberg, Joel and Ethan Coen. They (and others) made films that will be studied until the end of time.

Then there are another breed of directors. Are their films considered classics? No. Are they going to be shown in NYU film classes. Of course not. But ... if you are flipping around the dial on a rainy Sunday afternoon and you come across Vacation are you going to stop and watch? You're damn right.

John Hughes was one of those directors. He died today. Sure, you aren't going to find Raging Bull or Double Indemnity in his filmography, but who doesn't love The Great Outdoors? Or Uncle Buck? Or Home Alone? You're telling me you didn't chuckle when the geek got the hot girl's panties? "Those aren't pillows!" I'm not giving any context to that quote and some of you are laughing.

It didn't make much sense when Ferris Bueller joined a parade and the entire city of Chicago began a choreographed dance number, but it made us smile.



Sometimes that is all we need. A solid smile. So long John. Tell Mr. Candy we say hello and we miss him. Thanks.