Here’s the first celebrity death in a long time that has truly hit me hard: John Hughes, writer, director, producer, is dead at 59 of a heart attack.
The films he was involved in reads like a greatest hits of the 1980s list: Ferris Bueller’s Day Off, Home Alone, Trains, Planes and Automobiles, She’s Having a Baby, Pretty In Pink, Some Kind of Wonderful, Weird Science, National Lampoon’s Vacation, The Breakfast Club…and Career Opportunities, a lesser hit with a fantastic poster.
Rest In Peace, Mr. Hughes.
UPDATED: I’m not alone in my sentiments that this hurts far worse than the recent death of the self-mutilated child molester that we had to be told was influential.
Big Hollywood: “The Frank Capra of Generation X has Died“, a well-written tribute that puts my meager words to shame.
Carl Kozlowski: “Don’t You Forget About Him”
John Hughes’ movies were the true voice of my generation. I think the last person whose death hurt this badly was Jim Henson, also taken way too early.