As a teenager, I was along for the John Hughes ride. His slang-filled, self-consciously hip adolescent movies coincided in near perfect chronology with my high school years (’83-’87). Like most people, I think “Sixteen Candles” and “The Breakfast Club” have survived the years in the best shape. (Fave “Candles” quote: “Unbelievable. You make someone a bride’s maid, and they shit all over you”). Even when the John Hughes formula went from self-parody (“Pretty in Pink,” “Ferris Bueller’s Day Off”) to putrefaction (the icky “Some Kind of Wonderful,” whose teen vernacular is so dense it’s sometimes indecipherable), we were there in the audience to snicker and snort like … well, like the obnoxious, aren’t-we-cynical teens he was portraying. He had our attention. Thanks for the memories, John.
