Surprised I somehow made it to 45 without having seen this considering that films written or directed by John Hughes are seminal texts for Generation X but here I am.
This feels like a forerunner to films of the 90s about young men adrift. I can see in its bones Billy Madison’s lethargy and dreaminess. I can feel Mallrats’ repurposing of a monument to capitalism to tell a story about inertia and purposelessness. The key difference here is the romance of the whole thing. Later films about young Gen X men delivered on the generation’s mantra of disaffect. We didn’t give a shit and didn’t mind who knew it.
Writer John Hughes and director Bryan Gordon walk a tightrope with lead Jim Dodge (Frank Whaley). Jim fills his days with fantasy; when we meet him he’s spinning a tale about being part of the FBI’s Midwest Mob Squad. In short order we see him get fired from the animal hospital where he works, fake his way through defining sashimi, and spin an elaborate lie to some ten year olds about a combination spy/business tycoon. But most importantly we see him dream. At a gas station Josie McClellan (Jennifer Connelly) pulls up in a red convertible and we see Jim is taken with her. He sees Josie with the kind of otherworldly energy that he tries to project to the ten year olds. To him she’s a figure of wonder and beauty.
Jim’s father puts his foot down and tells him he has to get a job. This leads to an application to Target. We’ll get back to that. Meanwhile, Hughes’ script smartly refuses to let Josie exist just as a brass ring for Jim. In an early scene at her home we establish a loneliness to Josie and undercurrent of anger. Later, she’ll articulate it as a sense that even at 21 she feels like life has passed her by, a remarkable diagnosis of the malaise of Generation X.
When we next meet Jim and Josie life’s drawn them to Target. Jim is working his first night as night clean-up boy and Josie is trying work up the courage to get caught shoplifting in an effort to humiliate her abusive father. After the store closes it’s locked by the head custodian and in every sense Jim and Josie find their way to each other. This is where Donald McAlpine’s cinematography shines. He gives the space a mythic, romantic beauty. Stripped of its capitalist utility the space is now giant bursts of color, gorgeous flickering lights, pleasing repeating patterns and that blessed rectangular walkway around the perimeter of the store that allows for those beautiful dolley shots during the roller skating sequences.
Director Bryan Gordon infuses so many objects and locations in store with a magical quality. With a microwave Jim play acts at adulthood to make “hobo chicken.” He and Josie sit in lawn chairs while he smokes a cigar, offering the explanation that he “likes one after a nice meal.” Fish tanks and camping equipment seem as wondrous as cobblestone riverside streets in a Jacques Demy film when Jim and Josie find each other romantically and sexually.
The film’s third act feels rushed, a result of studio notes or a cramped shooting schedule. The weird byproduct is that when the thieves and their background free jazz show up it feels like they stepped in from a different movie but the byproduct of that is Jim and Josie can use the thieves car to escape their own movie. Without the thieves car what would the end be in a John Hughes movie be? Jim and Josie realize they’re from “different worlds” and he ends up on a bus for St. Louis and she leaves town in her red sports car? (A reminder that despite having a car Josie tells Jim they’ll need a car.) It’s because it’s not just a car. It’s a portal to better place for themselves and each other. That it ends with them poolside in Hollywood is acknowledgment that the film knows this wish fulfillment and fantasy. But as a generation was about to slide into affected disinterest of everything what’s wrong with a little fantasy? Fantasy is hope, whether it’s at the end of yellow brick roads or beneath the fluorescent lights of Target.