Jesus, we're going to have to rename this site Tabloid Obits. Now John Hughes, the mysterious Chicago-based filmmaking auteur of a very midwestern brand of classic comedy (from writing National Lampoon's Vacation to writing and producing Home Alone to writing and directing Ferris Bueller's Day Off), has dropped dead at 59. This latest passing brings to mind a passage in the tabloid Bible (so says Maury Povich), Tabloid Baby, in which our young protagonist and his older pal Rafael Abramovitz take a meeting with Hollywood superagent Bernie Brillstein. It is 1993, the same year that Hughes took his leave from the public eye.
From Chapter 21, Suicides, Murders and Executions:
Ushered past the picture of “Client of The Month” Garry Shandling and posters for movies like The Blues Brothers, Ghostbusters and Wayne’s World in the reception room, we met Brillstein, a big bear with white hair and a goatee, settled behind a big desk in a big corner office with big views straight out to the big ocean. At either corner of the desk, a round fishbowl containing a live fish faced us and our obligatory black coffees.
“I know you, I know your work,” Brillstein said to Raf, and settling back he looked at me and wagged a finger. “And you, you look exactly like John Hughes.”
I wracked my brain to think who John Hughes was. John Cusack, Andrew McCarthy— was he a Brat Packer?
“A young John Hughes. It’s amazing.”
I thought some more. Then I realized who he was talking about. John Hughes, the guy who produced Home Alone. A fat guy with owly glasses. Great.
Find more on John Hughes at The Chicago Tribune.
From Chapter 21, Suicides, Murders and Executions:
Ushered past the picture of “Client of The Month” Garry Shandling and posters for movies like The Blues Brothers, Ghostbusters and Wayne’s World in the reception room, we met Brillstein, a big bear with white hair and a goatee, settled behind a big desk in a big corner office with big views straight out to the big ocean. At either corner of the desk, a round fishbowl containing a live fish faced us and our obligatory black coffees.
“I know you, I know your work,” Brillstein said to Raf, and settling back he looked at me and wagged a finger. “And you, you look exactly like John Hughes.”
I wracked my brain to think who John Hughes was. John Cusack, Andrew McCarthy— was he a Brat Packer?
“A young John Hughes. It’s amazing.”
I thought some more. Then I realized who he was talking about. John Hughes, the guy who produced Home Alone. A fat guy with owly glasses. Great.
***
Find more on John Hughes at The Chicago Tribune.
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