Rizki’s review published on Letterboxd:
Ferris Bueller’s Day Off somehow made me realize I’m getting older and more bitter, because I should have enjoyed my youth as much as I enjoyed the film. I kept nodding at certain lines and found myself looking for moments to be emotionally touched.
I loved the Sears Tower scene — how everything seems small and insignificant when you gain a bit of perspective. It’s a metaphor for life that speaks for itself. But it’s the Art Institute interlude that really got to me. I don’t know if it was the stillness, the music, or the way Cameron (Alan Ruck) kept staring at the painting’s endless details, down to the grainy dots. Sometimes, you can look too closely at things and still miss the essential.
It’s for moving strokes like that that the past is ed and revered. Even in a film intended to be fun, you can find moments of sheer contemplation — moments that consecrate John Hughes as the youth’s voice of wisdom. If directors treated youth with even one-tenth of the respect Hughes had, the quality of teen films would multiply tenfold. Parents, teachers, and deans are portrayed as dream-killers — always trying to stop you from having a good time or being yourself.
It might seem superficial at first glance, but that “superficiality” is integral to the spirit of youth. It’s this capacity to challenge and confront the adult world that, ironically, ensures kids like Ferris (Matthew Broderick) won’t have any trouble becoming adults. And the more submissive you are to the rules of parents or teachers — like Cameron, or even Ferris’ sister to an extent — the less likely you are to truly become yourself. And that’s the truth.
Ferris Bueller’s Day Off is less a road trip through Chicago — although Hughes aimed to capture the spirit of the city — and more a journey through the lives of three teenagers who don’t have clear plans for the future, but know they’re approaching their final year of school and need to prepare for adulthood. Ferris shouldn’t be skipping school — one more truancy and he’s expelled. His girlfriend isn’t at the same risk, but her ing the day off requires the help of Cameron, a sickly, awkward teen estranged from his father.
More than that, it requires his father’s prized possession: a 1961 red Ferrari, perhaps the only thing he values more than his son. The trip can’t happen without the car, and the film uses it brilliantly to symbolize Cameron’s personality and his Freudian arc — making him, even before Jeannie (Jennifer Grey), the most sympathetic character.
Jeannie is consumed by jealousy — frustrated that Ferris is so popular and always seems to get away with everything. She epitomizes the inner crisis of teens who struggle to appreciate their own worth, like Cameron. But unlike Cameron’s ive depression, Jeannie actively chooses to live in the shadow of someone “better,” and tries to sabotage Ferris’ plans. Yet, just like Cameron, the day becomes an opportunity for her to confront the truth and begin growing into a better version of herself — with the unexpected help of a wise punk, played by a young Charlie Sheen. Jeannie learns to focus on herself and let go of envy, just as Cameron learns to stand up to his father and embrace his own feelings.
It’s fascinating that the main character doesn’t undergo any change or coming-of-age transformation — he’s the one who already possesses the truth and even breaks the fourth wall to deliver his message directly. The day off isn’t so much about skipping school as it is about breaking away from routine — taking a moment to reflect on your life and consider how to change things for the better. A visit to a restaurant, a museum, a ball game, a German parade, or even a simple conversation can make a difference. The film may be packaged like a typical ’80s comedy, but there’s nothing typical about the way it reveals profound truths about life.
A thought just occurred to me after watching the film, and it seems to align with Ferris’s philosophy: we’re either nostalgic or sorrowful about the past, or too worried and anxious about the future. We have valid reasons for that, of course — but it often gets to the point where the only time that can truly be enjoyed is the present. Everything is really about the present. As Ferris says, “life moves pretty fast,” and that’s what happens while we’re busy making plans. In Ferris Bueller’s Day Off, there are many looming threats — parents, Dean Rooney, Cameron’s father — but none of them stop the characters from seizing that one day off.
And the teenage years are a microcosm of that one day in your life that truly moves pretty fast. Everyone in the film ends up having the time of their lives — Ferris, Sloane, Cameron, Jeannie, even the two parking attendants — except for Dean Rooney.
