Planes, Trains and Automobiles Succeeds on Emotional Pull and Merit
Laura Flippin's latest blog post:
According to a post completed by Roger Ebert, the success of Planes, Trains and Automobiles relies on two very strong components that are carried throughout the entirety of the film. The writing, so artfully completed by John Hughes, allows for a story to be told that is not trite, despite the potential for cliché written all over the road movie genre of the film. The acting of Steve Martin and John Candy, Ebert argues, is hardly acting at all, as the two work together to truly portray their own sense of selves that brings a realty to the screen that is rarely seen in the buddy comedy genre. These two factors combined create a film that rises above two popular genres to stand out and draw in the audience.
The story begins as Neal—portrayed by Martin, and Del—played by Candy, are both in Manhattan two days prior to Thanksgiving. They desire nothing more than to return home to Chicago in time for the holiday. However, fate appears to be anywhere but on their side, as every problem possible through modern travel comes their way. Neal is a clean-cut, organized, anal-retentive and confident ad man who struggles with the chaos that is continually thrust upon him in their travels. Del, on the other hand, is chaos incarnate, as his mismatched clothes, distraught mustache and askew bow tie serve as physical representations of his difference in priorities from Neal.
Almost instantly the two start to clash. Del appears to have been born with an inherent sense of empathy, as he perpetually opens himself up and offers help to Neal in every possible way. Each time, he is met with distrust and disdain, as Neal continually attempts to separate himself from Del in his travels, despite the hand he is lending in assistance. Each time, Neal fails, as fate continues to tie the journey of these two men together. This prompts an endearing quality to Del, who only gets his feelings hurt repeatedly as his offered help gets denied. Neal is a man of self-reliance, who wants nothing more than to control his travels; Del is there to help him pick up the pieces every time that becomes impossible, whether Neal acknowledges it or not.
The end is where Hughes swings in his biggest emotional pull, as we see Neal finally learn the lesson that he was intended for the whole time—he must no longer judge people based on appearances alone or, even worse, by his own selfish standards. Through this empathetic and applicable lesson, Planes, Trains and Automobiles tells the audience something we all could use a little more of—kindness and appreciation are the greatest gifts to give or receive.
from Laura Flippin Movie Reviews http://ift.tt/1gUiu0S