Review of “Planes, Trains and Automobiles”

Review of “Planes(plān), Trains and Automobiles(ˈôdəmōˌbēl)”

By Roger Ebert

“Planes, Trains and Automobiles” is founded on the essential natures of its actors. It is perfectly cast and soundly constructed, and all else flows naturally. Steve Martin and John Candy don’t play characters; they embody(əmˈbädē) themselves. That’s why the comedy(ˈkämədē), which begins securely(səˈkyo͝orlē) planted in the twin(twin) genres(ˈZHänrə) of the road movie and the buddy(ˈbədē) picture, is able to reveal(rəˈvēl) so much heart and truth.

Some movies are obviously(ˈäbvēəslē) great. Others gradually(ˈgrajo͞oəlē) thrust(THrəst) their greatness upon us. When “Planes, Trains and Automobiles” was released in 1987, I enjoyed it immensely(iˈmenslē), gave it a favorable review and moved on. But the movie continued to live in my memory. Like certain other popular entertainments (“It’s a Wonderful Life,” “E.T. The Extra-Terrestrial(-ˈresCHəl,təˈrestrēəl),” “Casablanca(ˌkasəˈblaNGkə,ˌkäsəˈbläNGkə)”) it not only contained a universal theme(THēm), but also matched it with the right actors and story, so that it shrugged(SHrəg) off the other movies of its kind and stood above them in a kind of perfection. This is the only movie our family watches as a custom, most every Thanksgiving.

The story is familiar(fəˈmilyər). Steve Martin plays Neal(nēl), a Chicago(-ˈkägō,SHiˈkôgō) advertising man, sleek(slēk) in impeccable(imˈpekəbəl) blues and grays(grā), smooth-shaven(ˈSHāvən), recently barbered(ˈbärbər), reeking(rēk) of self-confidence, prosperity(präˈsperədē) and anal(ˈānl)-retentiveness(rəˈten(t)ivnəs). John Candy plays Del, a traveling salesman(ˈsālzmən) from Chicago who sells shower curtain(ˈkərtn) rings (“the best in the world”). He is very tall, very large, and covered in layers of mismatched shirts, sweaters(ˈswedər), vests, sport coats and parkas(ˈpärkə). His bristly(ˈbrislē) little mustache(məˈstaSH,ˈməsˌtaSH) looks like it was stuck on crooked(ˈkro͝okəd) just before his entrance(enˈtrans,ˈentrəns); his bow(bou,bō) tie(tī) is also askew(əˈskyo͞o).

Both of these men are in Manhattan(manˈhatn,mən-) two days before Thanksgiving, and both want to get home for the holidays. Fate(fāt) joins their destinies(ˈdestinē). Together they will endure(enˈd(y)o͝or) every indignity(inˈdiɡnədē) that modern travel can inflict(inˈflikt) on its victims(ˈviktəm). What will torture(ˈtôrCHər) them even more is being trapped in each other’s company. Del wants only to please. Neal wants only to be left alone.

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https://www.rogerebert.com/reviews/great-movie-planes-trains-and-automobiles-1987