Kate says this movie had to be included in our list, but in all honesty, I wasn't totally looking forward to it. I teach college students, most of whom are smart and kind hard workers; a few of whom irritate me to no end because they are, well, Ferris Bueller: self-entitled preppies who don't believe they will or should ever suffer consequences. To me, Ferris Bueller is practically a sociopath, a guy who lies without remorse/change in affect. Maybe I read too much John Douglas (probably), but I find this rather chilling.
However, as an example of its kind, this John Hughes' film is a work-of-art. The pacing is almost flawless. The encapsulation of a certain type of teenage dream is nearly perfect. And parts of it are very funny: "They could be fascist anarchists. It still wouldn't change the fact I don't own a car." The secretary with multiple pencils in her hair. The boring teachers who illustrate more how high school felt than what it was actually like.
The real theme of the movie, I think, is the need for people--Jeanie, Rooney--to stop caring what Ferris does or what he gets away with, to stop obsessing over his utter lack of responsibility, to get on with their lives. So, he probably will grow up to be a fry cook! (or an embezzler who works for Enron). Eh, so what. Let it go.
The main character arc in the movie, on the other hand, belongs to Cameron. And Cameron's character arc raises an interesting point. I must have seen the movie a dozen times when I was a teen (it was THE movie people saw in my age bracket). The ending, when Cameron gets angry at his father and destroys the car, always surprised me. Where did that come from? There was no set-up to explain Cameron's inexplicable behavior.
Watching the movie now, I realized that Cameron's bad relationship with this father, while never shown, is established through dialog. However, here's the snag: most of the information about Cameron comes from Ferris Bueller, and, even at the tender age of 15, I didn't consider Ferris a credible source. Hence, Cameron's behavior always surprised me because it wasn't based on anything I could judge for myself.
The point here is, despite the many, many times I saw the movie at a teen, it had almost zero impact on my mental/emotional life. People's worries in the 80's about John Hughes' movies and their impact on the teenage population were rather unnecessary. What John Hughes did do (very well) was to mirror what teenagers already thought or wanted to think about themselves (good luck stopping that!). But I wouldn't credit John Hughes as a creator of culture--and in all fairness, I don't think he saw himself that way.
Mike says that anyone who reads this blog regularly knows that I have a lot of love and nostalgia for this movie. As I've mentioned a few times, this movie became as expected as 7-up and soup on those days I was home sick from school. Sure, I didn't understand all of it, and sure, I was sick, but it was fun, I think, to live vicariously through Ferris and truly explore and claim that freedom that comes with being home during school hours.
As a film, Ferris delivers on several levels, so many in fact, that I think the viewer can really choose what they want to take from it. For some, it could be a zany teenage comedy. For others, a film about the fun times of youth, or even a coming of age story... for some of the characters at least.
The casting and acting are all solid, and the choice of Mathew Broderick (our second film on the list starring him, by the way) was beyond perfect. It was almost as if the film was built around him. And, given Broderick's popularity of the time, that could have very well been true! As a kid, and even now, Mia Sarah's performance and presence was so refined, so royal, almost, that she would almost seem out of place. But, who else would Ferris love, but a virtual princess? The aura of wisdom and patience, though touched with youth, really works with Broderick's playfulness and charisma.
The film never drags, never falters, and is almost deceptive in the way it wanders yet heads decisively for the conclusion.
One thing I find fascinating about the film is that Ferris, in his decision to have a day off and shirk responsibility, drags several people along for the ride, even those opposed to him. While Ferris obviously takes his girlfriend and best friend along (the girlfriend, I'm convinced, was the chaperone, and Cameron had something to learn), his sister and Rooney, through their decision to hold Ferris accountable (despite their complete lack of power or authority to do so) find and seize the same self-empowerment that Ferris wields.
They break the rules themselves, blaming Ferris along the way. Jeanie shows us the peace of letting go and worrying about yourself. Rooney shows us what happens when you continue to let others guide your actions. And Cameron, well, I think he shows that we need courage to stand on our own.
As for the moral of the film, I meant what I said before: I think one can really take what they want from it. As a kid, I think it was plain good fun. As a college student, it was almost holy writ, a dogma for enjoying life between the drudgery. And now, as a parent, I find it a wonderful reminder of the empowerment and freedom of youth, and a reminder to not get too caught up in the serious things of life. Sometimes, you need a day off.
Friday, October 21, 2011
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There is an interesting theory floating around the internet that Ferris is a figment of Cameron's imagination. Like many, perhaps most, my first reaction was to laugh, but the more I think about it, the more this theory makes sense.
This is an awesome theory! In folklore, we've been discussing how inner conflicts get externalized into outer symbols (Freudian theory, woo-hoo). Cameron is the ego. Ferris and his girlfriend represent the id while Cameron's thoughts of his father plus Rooney and Jeanie represent the superego. Cameron has to struggle between these various internal desires, needs, wishes to find himself, who he actually wants to be. It totally fits! And the movie actually makes more sense to me.
The story could also be a monomyth (hero is marked for greatness despite his doubts, hero collects followers, hero crosses a threshold, hero undergoes tests, hero undergoes a final confrontation, hero returns changed). That's what we are studying tomorrow.
I like the Freudian application best though. It fits so perfectly.
So I've been thinking about this whole "figment of Cameron's imagination" idea, which I've translated as Ferris=Cameron's Id, and I'm now going to do what I warn my students against doing and totally take a literary analysis way too far.
At the end of the movie, Cameron says to Ferris, "I could have said, 'No' when you wanted to take the car." That line always used to bug me; my feeling was, "So, if Cameron can do this, why not show him doing it?!" That is, if Cameron is supposed to find the strength to stand up for himself, why does he never stand up to Ferris?
But if Ferris is Cameron's Id-- something Cameron has to incorporate into his psyche, not someone he needs to stand up to (like his father)--then having this conversation occur at the end of the movie makes sense.
Like any good Id, Ferris's reaction to Cameron is disbelief: ah, you can't resist me. Without animus, Cameron says, "It is possible to say, 'No' to Ferris Bueller." He isn't rejecting his Id (or repressing it--ahhh); he is deciding exactly how much it will affect him.
Granted, I've now totally over-analyze that last scene, but I think it is more than likely that although Hughes may not have been thinking like this when he wrote the script/directed the movie, the movie by its nature had to tackle all three elements of Freud's philosophy. If you create a movie about an "Id," there have to be balancing forces to make the movie work.
(In all honesty, I think most good movies/books are written like this: the writer sets out to accomplish a particular vision, pulling in meaning on the way. The literary analysts then come along and get all excited about the author's "deep, profound meaning!" But the original process was largely unconscious.)
so I just wrote a huge response to this, but due to a computer glitch I lost it all, and I have no desire to rewrite it all.
It's a fun theory, but I have trouble accepting it because the film provides so much evidence for the existence of Ferris. It would be easier to prove that Cameron, in fact, is the imaginary friend.
If so, The Movie would then be about Ferris giving himself completely over to Id after defeating both Ego and Superego.
I suppose my mind just can't accept it, because it's a little like telling me that the Deathstar was a figment of Chewie's imagination.
A thing can exist and still be a symbol!
Okay, yeah, that gets a little metaphysical.
I think it's really about the search for the character-with-the-arc. I recently had a student tell me that Rowlings intended Neville Longbottom to be the real hero of the Harry Potter books. I highly doubt that, but it points to a need to find the character with the most purpose. Neville undergoes the greatest change from the beginning to the end of the series. Apparently, identifying this character is something humans crave!
(Which would make this type of interpretation a Jungian, rather than a Freudian thing. Hmmm. Guess myth hedges out psychology in the long run!)
if we go Jungian, everything slides into place a little easier, I think. Once we identify Ferris as the Trickster, we could claim that Cameron is the hero on a journey of self discovery and growth, who learn and grows through the trickster's manipulations.
The world around ferris would also continue to make sense, since the trickster also teaches lesson to Jeanie. Rooney, though it is a bit of a stretch, could be the Shadow, hunting Ferris rather than Cameron because of the change he knows the trickster can cause.
As the girlfriend is often the voice of calm reason (though she does enjoy the ride), she could easily be the anima part of Cameron, which would explain very well the few wonderful, almost intimate talks that sloan and Cameron have about Ferris.
it would make sense to me for Cameron's anima to be dating ferris, as Cameron's love and admiration for Ferris as his best friend could then shown and expressed in multiple, acceptable ways, for both the audience and cameron himself.
The Tricksters love for that part of cameron could be what leads him to help cameron on his quest of self discovery.
I do like the idea of Ferris as trickster (my problem with him is he is just so unrelatable to me; I need to see him as a role rather than as a person).
I hesitated over including the girlfriend with Ferris as "Id" since she does comfort Cameron and holds rational dialog with him. If we go completely mythical, Ferris could be Eros (who is often a rather destructive figure) and the girlfriend could be Psyche, who gives Eros soul/heart. Eros and Psyche together bring compassion/inspiration into Cameron's life.
We could so totally write a book! Take that, Harold Bloom!
You know, the ferris as Id part didn't give me pause. It was the imaginary ferris that bothered me. But you are right a character can be real and still represent the id. Falstaff does this very well.
I'm actually really starting to like the idea of Sloan and Cameron being two sides of the same personality. I've always felt her part was great, but just a little needless. Buy she really does have some great moments alone with cam and ferris.
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