THOSE AREN'T PILLOWS! Remembering Planes, Trains & Automobiles

Given the chaotic nature of this year and the social discord that resulted in the wake of this month's presidential election, it seems that what we all need is a bit of levity and humor. In my house, this film was a staple of every Thanksgiving dinner. My family would wear out the same old quotes and repeat genuine laughs for the thirtieth time together.  So here's a review of the greatest Thanksgiving comedy of all time, just one year short of its thirtieth anniversary..

Planes, Trains & Automobiles was teen drama bard John Hughes' attempt to break his own mold of making films focused on the lives of outsider teens, a niche he'd carved with '80s staples such as Sixteen Candles and The Breakfast Club. With Planes, Trains & Automobiles, he refocused his absurdist deadpan talents to adults. Instead of high school kings, queens and peasants however, Planes pairs uptight yuppie Neal Page (Steve Martin) with the lower-middle class lovable goofball Del Griffith (John Candy). Like his earlier teen films, the film reveals some genuine social commentary beneath a basic Murphy's Law buddy comedy about two people trying to get home for the holidays without killing each other.

Planes, Trains and Automobiles doesn't aspire to be a deep film by any means, instead straddling a fine line between low and high-brow comedy. There aren't many lewd sex jokes or gross-out moments, yet a man can be seen being lifted by his testicles and an entire conversation is carried out about whether or not one of the characters "plays with his balls" a lot. There's a good amount of slapstick humor, but much of the film's humor is derived from the tension between straight-man Neal and the clumsy antics of Del, who is the main source of Neal's catastrophes over their journey together. It's one of those rare films that manages to balance a silly tone with sharp writing.

While it's a goofy comedy at heart, the film also has a surprisingly touching side that tames the funniest moments with a sobriety made all the more tragic with the loss of John Candy less than a decade after the film's release. The audience comes to sympathize with Del Griffith as much as Neal Page grew to resent him in the first half of the film. Nevertheless, the chemistry of Martin and Candy makes their friendship all the more genuine and warranted by the film's end. Like Hughes' earlier films, upper class characters like Neal are portrayed as stiff, cold and pretentious. Blue collar everyman Del is accordingly uncultured, oafish and easygoing. Yet each character learns from the other by the film's end, with Neal learning to be more easygoing and open-minded, and Del learning to mind his overbearing nature.

It feels silly to write so much about a film with no inherent message. This endearing piece of Thanksgiving popcorn fodder was meant for little more than pure entertainment. I do wonder if it will have the same effect on people who didn't experience it at a young age. A large part of the film's charm is undoubtedly its legacy as the ultimate Thanksgiving comedy. Its relatively mild, slow-paced humor seems like it would be completely lost on the smartphone generation. For those who were lucky enough to grow up watching this film as I did, it serves as a nostalgic reminder of a more innocent time. Can you imagine a comedy today earning an R-Rating due to just one (very memorable) F-word laden scene? Still, I can think of few films which prelude the Home Alone season better. Everyone should watch this film at least once.