The Glorious Old-School Gadgets of Ferris Bueller’s Day Off




No director captured the angst and everyday indignities of an average teenager’s world like John Hughes. Granted, as a child of the ’80s, I’m probably a little biased. But consider the man’s work for a moment: Between 1984 and 1987, Hughes cranked out six teen films—the majority of which are still considered benchmarks of the genre.


As plenty of critics have noted, much of the late filmmaker’s success is probably tied to the way he portrayed teens. Rather than mindless, horny sex fiends, the characters in a John Hughes film are sensitive, vulnerable horny sex fiends. You know, believable teens. But the man behind The Breakfast Club, Pretty in Pink, and Weird Science didn’t just have empathy for his subjects and a good ear for dialogue. He was also a scholar of adolescent archetypes, and knew how to embellish to great effect. And nowhere is this better demonstrated than in 1986’s Ferris Bueller’s Day Off.


Part buddy movie, part coming-of age story, this classic school-skipping tale is markedly different than the rest of Hughes’s teenage oeuvre. That’s because Ferris is the opposite of a typical teenager. He’s preternaturally cool, self-assured, comfortable around girls, and wise beyond his years. As Grace reminds Mr. Rooney, “The sportos, the motorheads, geeks, sluts, bloods, wastoids, dweebies, dickheads—they all adore him. They think he’s a righteous dude.”


Fittingly, this righteous dude’s bedroom is equally excellent. In fact, of all the teenage rooms in cinema history, Ferris’s might be the most impressive. Hughes supposedly designed it himself, modeling it after his own high-school angst cave.


Of all the teenage rooms in cinema history, Ferris’s might be the most impressive.


Hit the pause button during any bedroom sequence and you’ll find a delicious mise-en-scène. Every frame is stuffed with, well, awesome stuff. Audiophile-worthy stack and speakers? Check. Legendary guitar and amp? Of course. Television and camera with a closed-circuit video feed? Uh, sure. And it’s all rounded out with posters and knick-knacks that speak to Bueller’s impeccable musical tastes, creativity, and technical know how.


The lust-worthy gear isn’t just limited to Bueller’s bedroom: Cameron’s modernist bedroom isn’t lacking in the toy department either. And that ’61 Ferrari GT 250—which in most scenes was actually just a modified MG sports car—isn’t half bad either. There are so many desirable objects in the movie that it’s only fitting it helped popularize what is still the default song for gadget lust and other states of covetous consumerism: Yello’s “Oh Yeah.”


Rewatching Ferris Bueller’s Day Off today, I’ll admit that some of the film’s magic has worn off. To a 36-year-old, Ferris seems considerably more manipulative, selfish, and douchey then he did to the 14-year-old me. On the other hand, as someone whose job it is to look at and evaluate gadgets all day, I do have a new appreciation (and nostalgic yearning) for all the amazing stuff peppered throughout Hughes’s film.


It almost begs to be cataloged—and so we did just that. It’s not a comprehensive list (I couldn’t find, for instance, the model of the fancy speakerphone in Cameron’s room), but it’s close. As Ferris might say: The movie moves pretty fast. If you don’t stop and look around at all the sweet-ass gadgets, you could miss them.



1 comment:

  1. How about the telephone in Cameron Frye's bedroom?
    It's been two decades I'm looking for it, virtually since I've got access to the internet.
    Nobody has never even mentioned it online.
    At the scene he's lying on the bed and answer the phone…

    ReplyDelete