Review: Planes, Trains and Automobiles (1987)

 Planes, Trains and Automobiles (1987)

Rated R

Score: 4 out of 5

Planes, Trains and Automobiles is a movie that has stood the test of time because everybody who's ever traveled during the holidays can relate to the plight of at least one of its protagonists. The film that proved that John Hughes was more than just a teen comedy guy, it's a film that's been homaged and spoofed so many times that some of its jokes will inevitably feel old-hat watching it now. And yet, none of those movies that tried to do their own twists on this one's story have what makes this film stand out to this day, the outstanding chemistry and comic performances from Steve Martin and John Candy as two mismatched guys from very different walks of life who, thanks to a series of transport-related mishaps, are forced to team up in order to make it home for the holidays. It's a film that's filled from start to finish with hilarious comic set pieces rooted in a mix of slapstick and character dynamics, and it does so without having a mean-spirited bone in its body, a fact that gives it the room it needs to get rather dark and poignant towards the end as certain things are recontextualized in a much more tragic manner. Barring one great scene that singlehandedly earns this movie its R rating, this is one of the more wholesome '80s comedies I've ever seen, something that makes it a true classic for the holiday season that I'd imagine going down even better on a rewatch.

Two days before Thanksgiving, Neil Page, an advertising executive in New York whose family lives in Chicago, wants to get back home to celebrate the holiday with his wife and kids. Unfortunately, after a blizzard shuts down Chicago's airports, the flight is diverted to Wichita, Kansas, where Neil's only chance of getting back rests in the hands of Del Griffith, a portly, jovial, and rather annoying traveling salesman who Neil sat next to on the plane and who managed to secure a motel room to spend the night at. Neil doesn't like Del one bit, he's only putting up with him because the man, for all his faults, was kind enough to let him join him at the motel, and their personalities clash immediately: Neil thinks Del is a degenerate slob, while Del thinks Neil is a judgmental prick. Shared misery, however, has a way of bringing together even polar opposites, as Neil and Del learn as they put up with filthy motel rooms, terrible passenger rail service, the blistering cold of a Midwestern November, rental car companies that just don't care, and last but certainly not least, each other.

Watching this movie unfold, I couldn't help but think of Identity Thief, a really bad Jason Bateman/Melissa McCarthy movie from 2012 that I'd mostly forgotten about until now. I hated that movie then, seeing McCarthy's character as a monster and Bateman's as a wet noodle, and looking back, I hate it even more now, because it's clear that that movie really wanted to be this and yet committed the fatal sin that this movie studiously avoided. The thing about Neil and Del is that, while each of them thinks that the other is an asshole, we the audience don't, because we get to see both of their perspectives in such a manner that their enmity towards one another feels partly but not entirely justified. Steve Martin's Neil is the straight man in every sense of the word, an old-fashioned, buttoned-up businessman who has zero patience for Del's antics but isn't presented as just a stick-up-his-ass killjoy. He really does have a family to get back to, he promised them that he'd be with them for Thanksgiving dinner, and the thought that getting sucked into Del's maelstrom of mayhem might force him to break that promise constantly gnaws at him throughout the film and pushes him right up to the edge. As for John Candy's Del, he may be trashy and crude, but without spoiling anything, there is a serious tragedy behind his cheerful funnyman shtick, the film heavily implying from quite early on that his behavior is a result of his failure to cope with that tragedy. Neither of them really gets where the other is coming from, and for both men, a large part of their growth and character development comes from learning the other's perspective. By the time the movie's over, both Neil and Del managed to grow on me as much as they did each other, two wonderful, well-rounded, and very funny characters who learn to recognize their personal faults and develop a sense of empathy for one another.

Steve Martin makes a great straight man as Neil, a guy whose suit, jacket, and old-fashioned hat immediately let you know what kind of rich jerk he is before he's slowly worn down by the worst road trip ever, one that eventually pushes him right over the edge in one of the film's funniest moments. Del is, of course, a big part of his misery, with the late, great John Candy playing him as a force of nature who wanders right into Neil's path and immediately becomes his crucible. Candy gets the big, showy comedy part here, but he also has to carry a lot of the film's genuine dramatic heft, and as he does so, he reveals himself to be the film's MVP not just in terms of comedy but also in the layers he hides behind Del's corny, goofball Midwestern slob persona. He did not feel like a caricature, of either the person he presents himself as nor the person he turns out to actually be; rather, he feels like somebody on a one-way trip to a hell of his own making whose seemingly idiotic acts over the course of the film slowly reveal themselves to be signs of a man who has simply stopped caring and needs genuine help. It's a subtext that the film eventually confronts head-on as it becomes clear to Neil just how broken Del really is, and that he's the only one in a position to even try to help him, which is what elevates this film from simply a good '80s comedy to near-greatness in my book. It would've been all too easy for a more mean-spirited film to laugh at either Del or Neil and portray one of them as the bad guy for the other to overcome, and I'm sure that that version of this movie would probably be more laugh-out-loud funny in some ways. But Hughes' script cares too much about the both of them to do that, instead focusing more on fleshing out their relationship and mining the humor from their interactions and their mutual suffering, not one of them going out of his way to torture the other just to be an asshole. I actually liked Neil and Del, and I wanted to see the both of them succeed and put their differences aside.

If this movie does have any problems, they mostly come due to the passage of time undercutting the impact of some of the jokes. This movie is plenty funny when it goes big and broad, such as during the highway scene, the car rental exchange, and "those aren't pillows", but after more than thirty years of movies that have gone bigger and broader, the shock can sometimes lose its impact. This is a movie that constantly had me at least chuckling, and certainly laughing when it needed me to, but some of the humor can feel simply stale thanks to so many other comedies doing variations on its jokes. The image of a dorky, "Minnesota nice" ticket clerk dropping the F-bomb doesn't come off as so shocking and unreal today when other comedies have taken the joke so much further since. You will probably laugh your ass off at plenty of scenes in this film, but for me at least, this wasn't the kind of movie that knocks you in the gut and leaves you rolling for ninety minutes.

The Bottom Line

Planes, Trains and Automobiles is a movie that still holds up remarkably well today, its solid anchoring in its two lead characters and actors more than making up for any jokes that might feel worn out today. If you like '80s comedy but are looking for something a bit more wholesome that's nonetheless not wholly sugar-coated, this is easily a standout.