R.I.P. John Hughes | Buzz Blog
We need your help.

Newspapers and media companies nationwide are closing or suffering mass layoffs since the coronavirus impacted all of us starting in March. City Weekly's entire existence is directly tied to people getting together in groups--in clubs, restaurants, and at concerts and events--which are the industries most affected by new coronavirus regulations.

Our industry is not healthy. Yet, City Weekly has continued publishing thanks to the generosity of readers like you. Utah needs independent journalism more than ever, and we're asking for your continued support of our editorial voice. We are fighting for you and all the people and businesses hardest hit by this pandemic.

You can help by making a one-time or recurring donation on PressBackers.com, which directs you to our Galena Fund 501(c)(3) non-profit, a resource dedicated to help fund local journalism. It is never too late. It is never too little. Thank you. DONATE

R.I.P. John Hughes



Sixteen Candles. The Breakfast Club. Weird Science. Ferris Bueller's Day Off. Twenty-five years ago, John Hughes pretty much defined the cinematic high-school experience for Gen-X-ers. --- It was unique enough that he generally told those stories with actual teenagers as his lead actors, and it was downright revolutionary that he used as his two muses -- Anthony Michael Hall and Molly Ringwald -- a pair of kids who weren't exactly what you'd call "conventionally attractive."

Hughes died yesterday of a heart attack at the age of 59, and it's telling that his passing has garnered this much attention despite the fact that he hasn't directed a film in 18 years. Even when he shifted from teen stories to his sentimental paeans to family (Planes, Trains & Automobiles; She's Having a Baby; writing and producing Home Alone), Hughes remained locked in an entire generation's mind as a guy who seemed interested in telling the stories of teen angst in a recognizable voice. Maybe as a filmmaker he never grew out of that gawky adolescent phase, but he was one of the few filmmakers whose name became a kind of shorthand adjective, easily defining a point of view.

"Don't you forget about me?" We won't, John. We won't.