The essence of Sen. Kennedy’s political power was crystallized by Sen. Lamar Alexander of Tennessee, one of many Republicans who worked with the late senator to forge compromises on bills. Alexander called Sen. Kennedy “at once the most partisan and the most constructive United States senator. He could preach the party line as well as bridge differences better than any Democrat.”
This quote in the Washington Post obituary for Teddy Kennedy seems to illuminate the essence of a man who was an idealist and a pragmatist, a man who battled enormous public and private challenges. His example will continue to inspire all who believe that the dream will never die.
Fallen Hollywood luminary, name-dropper, world-class party-goer, best-selling author, and force for justice Dominick Dunne died of cancer yesterday at age 83. He was the brother of screenwriter John Gregory Dunne (the subject of The Year of Magical Thinking by his widow, Joan Didion). He was the father of actor/writer/director Griffin Dunne and Alex Dunne. And he was the father of Dominique Dunne, who played the oldest daughter in Poltergeist. She was murdered in 1982 by an ex-boyfriend whose inadequate sentence caused Dunne to devote the rest of his life to pursuing justice as a writer and activist.
Dunne was the best-selling author of novels based on real-life incidents of society scandal that were often adapted for glossy made-for-television productions like An Inconvenient Woman and The Two Mrs. Grenvilles. And he wrote non-fiction accounts of real-life scandal for Vanity Fair.
I heard him speak once and he was filled with bubbly and sometimes wicked anecdotes about the rich and famous. But he was also an enormously appealing presence, completely sincere in his essential decency. That comes through in a wonderful story he told for The Moth called “My Bunkmate Was In For Murder.” It is the tale of his arrest for possession of marijuana, which, since it was found on him at the airport coming back from another country made it a very serious offence. His rescue by from a most unexpected friend for a most unexpected reason makes it a perfect way to remember him.
John Hughes, writer-director of some of the most successful and influential films of the 1980’s and 90’s, died yesterday at age 59. Fellow Chicagoan Roger Ebert has a thoughtful tribute, calling Hughes “the creator of the modern American teenager film.” Ebert said:
He took teenagers seriously, and his films are distinctive for showing them as individuals with real hopes, ambitions, problems and behavior.
“Kids are smart enough to know that most teenage movies are just exploiting them,” he told me on the set of “The Breakfast Club.” “They’ll respond to a film about teenagers as people. movies are about the beauty of just growing up. I think teenage girls are especially ready for this kind of movie, after being grossed out by all the sex and violence in most teenage movies. People forget that when you’re 16, you’re probably more serious than you’ll ever be again. You think seriously about the big questions.”
I would add that he showed teenagers with real abilities and understanding as well, and that was what made his characters so believably multi-dimensional. Whether an exaggerated farce like Ferris Bueller’s Day Off or a more realistic love story like Pretty in Pink, his teenage characters were self-aware and capable, often more capable than the adults around them. Even the child in Home Alone managed to take care of himself and outsmart the bad guys. So did the star of the underrated Baby’s Day Out, even though he could not walk or talk.
Apart from some Depression-era fare, movies for and about young people tended to depict them as cheerful, all-American entertainers (Mickey Rooney and Judy Garland in the 1940s) or moody, troubled and mumbling (James Dean in the 1950s).
Mr. Hughes struck an entirely new direction when he arrived in Hollywood in the early 1980s after a career that included stints as an advertising writer and a joke writer for National Lampoon. He created films that were distinguished by the very ordinariness in which he captured teenage life: the mini-dramas over class distinctions, peer pressure, serious (and often unrequited) crushes and classroom detention. He set most of his films in suburban Chicago, where he grew up and which he considered “a place of realities” in contrast with the glamour of Los Angeles.
In his films, Mr. Hughes reversed the long-standing view of caring parents and their clueless offspring to create an entirely new caricature of savvy teens and self-involved and hopelessly uncool authority figures, whether parents, principals or receptionists. Mr. Hughes’s young protagonists spoke in perceptive ways peppered with the latest slang, and despite all their differences, they were unified by their need to survive without any help from their elders.
Dana Stevens of Slate has a fine tribute to Hughes but the most touching memories come from Alison Byrne Fields, who wrote to him as a teenage fan of “The Breakfast Club,” and then wrote to him again to object to the form letter response to the first one. They corresponded for two years. He encouraged her and made it clear how important it was to him to hear from exactly the audience he wanted to reach. They spoke by phone once some years later.
John told me about why he left Hollywood just a few years earlier. He was terrified of the impact it was having on his sons; he was scared it was going to cause them to lose perspective on what was important and what happiness meant. And he told me a sad story about how, a big reason behind his decision to give it all up was that “they” (Hollywood) had “killed” his friend, John Candy, by greedily working him too hard.
He also told me he was glad I had gotten in touch and that he was proud of me for what I was doing with my life. He told me, again, how important my letters had been to him all those years ago, how he often used the argument “I’m doing this for Alison” to justify decisions in meetings.
Hughes was gifted as a creator of believable and accessible characters and as a writer of endlessly quotable dialog. And he was a righteous dude.
I grew up in the Chicago suburbs and always enjoyed the familiar locations and references in the Hughes movies. “The Breakfast Club” was inspired by detention at my high school (which met not on Saturday but before school, which is how it got its name). I enjoy “Ferris Bueller’s Day Off” and am fond of “Pretty in Pink” (though I still think Andie should end up with Duckie and Iona is my favorite character) and think that Dutch is one of Hughes’ most neglected films. I’d love to hear about your favorite Hughes movies, quotes, and moments.
Mr. Schulberg was the son of a legendary Hollywood producer whose fortunes rose and fell dramatically. As a result, he once said he was intrigued by “how suddenly go up, and how quickly they go down.”
He used his insider knowledge of Hollywood politics to write his first novel, “What Makes Sammy Run?” in 1941. A grotesque account of vice being rewarded, the book was widely praised (though not in Hollywood) and made him a star author at 27.
Vivid, crackling dialogue was his hallmark in about 10 other books and a handful of riveting films. He wrote the memorable speech that included the line “I coulda been a contender,” spoken by actor Marlon Brando in “On the Waterfront” (1954)…
Mr. Schulberg’s next project, “A Face in the Crowd” (1957), skewered the television industry and became a lasting favorite of critics and moviemakers. The film, again directed by Kazan, featured Andy Griffith in what many regard as his best role. Griffith played “Lonesome” Rhodes, a cracker-barrel prophet who self-destructs after he lands a national television show. “Face” was an underrated gem, a perceptive look at the future of television and politics.
This scene from “On the Waterfront” is one of the best-remembered in the history of film:
As well as I remember those misty images of Neil Armstrong coming out of the lunar module to put the first footstep on the moon, I remember the look on Walter Cronkite’s face as he reported it.
Cronkite died today at age 92.
No one born after 1980 can understand the influence of Walter Cronkite on the generation that came of age in the 1950’s and 60’s because there is simply no one to compare him to. In those days there were only three choices for network news coverage, and Cronkite, voted “the most trusted man in America,” was on CBS, which prided itself on meeting the highest standard for quality broadcast journalism — and never insisted that the news division make money. In the 1960’s, when we had to wait every night to find out from television news broadcasts what had happened that day, it was Cronkite who explained it all to us — the assassinations of John and Robert Kennedy and the Reverend Martin Luther King, Jr., Vietnam, Kent State, Watergate.
But there was no story that he loved more than the space program. He was always completely professional but it was easy to see he was as excited and proud as we were. His integrity and curiosity inspired us all and his legacy should be a powerful reminder of the importance of the quality of journalism he pioneered and exemplified.
by his widow, Joan Didion). He was the father of actor/writer/director Griffin Dunne and Alex Dunne. And he was the father of Dominique Dunne, who played the oldest daughter in 
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or a more realistic love story like 
, his teenage characters were self-aware and capable, often more capable than the adults around them. Even the child in 
managed to take care of himself and outsmart the bad guys. So did the star of the underrated 
, even though he could not walk or talk. 
is one of Hughes’ most neglected films. I’d love to hear about your favorite Hughes movies, quotes, and moments.