'UNCLE BUCK': JOHN HUGHES' VALENTINE TO TEENHOOD
By CHRIS WILLMAN
In "Uncle Buck" (citywide), writer-director John Hughes
has devised a plot with which to fuse his two genres of
choice: the clashing-family-members comedy and the
tortured-teen pic.
John Candy, the titular behemoth, is the eccentric relative
from blue-collar hell that no one loves (yet); when he's
called in to baby-sit his stuffed-shirt brother's three
progeny for a few days, the younger tykes take a back seat
while Buck establishes an adversarial, then intimate,
relationship with his troubled 15-year-old niece. At heart,
it's really another one of Hughes' undisguised valentines to
teenhood.
The overriding philosophy of most of the Hughes canon is
simple: Kids are good, grown-ups aren't. But there's a little
more to it than that. Corollary No. 1: Grown-ups can be good
if they act like kids -- hence the spontaneous charm of Uncle
Buck, who feeds beer and pretzels to the family dog and who
vacuums his own girth after a spirited session of raw Frosted
Flakes consumption.
Corollary No. 2: Kids can be bad if they act like adults --
hence the initial villainy of his niece Tia (Jean Kelly,
seemingly reprising Jennifer Grey's snotty sister character
in "Ferris Bueller's Day Off"), who initially attacks her
keeper as an unsophisticated boob and who is trying to prove
her maturity through premature sexual behavior. Uncle Buck
takes up the formidable challenge of protecting her
virginity, mostly through threatening her no-good boyfriend
with hatchets and power drills.
Herein lies the biggest chasm between Hughes and other
teen-film makers: Much as he puts impetuous adolescence on a
pedestal, he tends to see sex as a threat to the young, not
as a release or rite of passage. Sex is what accelerates
their procession into the world of adult relationships with
all the accompanying lies and rationalizations and masks.
Hughes may stick Tone Loc's rap hit about engaging in the
"Wild Thing" on the sound track, but he really wants his kids
to just say no.
The problem with this is that we know from the outset --
especially if we're familiar with Hughes' work -- just how
tidily all this will turn out. He can be surprisingly daring
in introducing bits and pieces of tense domestic turmoil into
his comedies, and this one is no exception. (Lou Lombardo,
Tony Lombardo and Peck Prior did the editing, which nicely
mixes tight comedic gag timing with an unusually relaxed,
dramatic narrative pace.) But Hughes is usually too busy
steering toward a neat, happy ending to let the intimations
of nuclear family breakdowns have any real emotional sway.
Finally, "Uncle Buck" (MPAA-rated PG) has a medium-level
Hughes script, only about half as good as "Planes, Trains and
Automobiles," about 50 times as good as "The Great Outdoors."
Before things go all awry in the final stretch, which has
Buck patching things up with long-suffering gal pal Amy
Madigan as well as with his family, there are some hysterical
bits along the way. Not the least of these is the sight of a
closed-eyed Candy scratching the family dog on the stomach
and jerking his own leg in an involuntary sympathetic
response, or asking his nervous sister-in-law as she leaves
whether there's a plunger in the house, or 8-year-old
Macaulay Culkin's deadpan Joe Friday imitation.
To get to the chuckles, most of which are well-executed, you
have to wade through some of Hughes' favorite stereotypes,
like the positively evil vice principal at the little girl's
elementary school who calls Buck's niece "a dreamer, a silly
heart." Much has been made of the autobiographical aspects of
Hughes' "She's Having a Baby," but bits of this would seem
even more so: Candy -- who has never been more likable -- is
absolutely the director's stand-in as he rails against this
nasty authority figure, saying, "You so much scowl at my
niece or any other kid in this school and I'll come looking
for you." Like Buck's nieces and nephews, the young of
America have a cinematic champion and protector.
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