Just because: "Uh, what country do you think this is?"

And then...

Burning Questions - Ferris Bueller's Day Off - Part 2

Midway through Ferris Bueller's Day Off, Ed Rooney, in the pursuit of Ferris, walks into a pizza parlor/arcade. His eyes light up as he spots (from behind) someone he assumes is Ferris; it instead turns out to be a comely young lady with a haircut similar to Ferris's, wearing the same jacket that we'd seen young Mr. Bueller wear through the course of the film.

But what really led Ed to believe that was Ferris? To that point, the only time in the film he had seen Ferris was when he showed up to school driving Cameron's father's Ferrari, disguised as George Peterson. How did Rooney know what Ferris was wearing?

I hear you, smarty pants. Right now, you're saying "Rooney really hated Ferris, and must have known that Ferris wore that jacket a lot."

Really? First of all, the principal of a 1000+ student high school knows the wardrobe of his students so well that he's going to mistake some female in a random leather jacket for one of his students? Now, I could buy all that if it wasn't for this: am I really supposed to believe that a teenager as dynamic and stylish as Ferris would wear the same jacket day in and day out, so much that his principal would recognize (practically) anyone else wearing said jacket as him?

I say bullsh*t to that.

And then...

Burning Questions - Ferris Bueller's Day Off

Midway through Ferris Bueller's Day Off, Ferris, Sloane and Cameron go to Chez Quis, a snooty French restaurant that came complete with a snooty maitre d'. Faced with the possibility of being shut down and out of a table, Ferris quickly scanned the reservation list and took the reservation of "Froman - 3" as their own, leading to an excellent sequence in which he fakes a call to the cops as part of the ruse. They get their table.

But what happened to the Sausage King of Chicago that day? It's not as though Ferris was looking at a list of cancelled reservations - were he, the suspicions of the maitre d' would have been raised even further. As it was, Ferris and gang had to have spent at least an hour at Chez Quis; at a restaurant like that, I'm sure there were multiple courses to be had and lengthy waits in between.

So did Abe (and his unknown guests) just never show up? If so, why not? Was the Froman party in a car crash, or perhaps was Abe the one that was truly ill that day? If they did show up, surely all Abe would have needed to do was show his ID (though a man known as "the Sausage King" would likely be offended to even be asked such a thing) to end Ferris' game and get the high schoolers kicked out of the restaurant.

I wonder what a difference that would have made in the snooty maitre d's life...

So I ask you - what happened to Abe?

And then...

Fletch's Favored Five: Renaissance Films

I figure its high time I class up this joint, and what better way to do so than to honor some films that have gone beyond their appreciation of film stock and enriched our lives with that more respected medium - painting. Keep in mind, I'm no art expert, and I don't know much, but I know what I like...

While recently re-watching The Royal Tenenbaums, I was able to fall in love again with the Miguel Calderon painting to your right (and its complement - not shown) that is prominent in one of my favorite scenes. I'd rather not spoil it, so if you haven't seen the film - shame on you, first of all, as it's one of the best of the last 15 years - do so immediately and pay particular attention to a scene between Luke and Owen Wilson that takes place in Owen's characters' apartment.

Some other objects of my affection:

Much as I'm busying classing up the joint, John Hughes did so some twenty years ago with Ferris Bueller's Day Off. In what some might classify as merely being a teen comedy about a smartass slacker, Hughes not only had his trio of high schoolers taking in the stock exchange and fine dining at Chez Quis, but in what is one of the more memorable scenes, had them visit the Chicago Museum of Art, where Cameron famously gets lost in Seurat's "Sunday Afternoon."


Though the above entries are certainly hard to miss in their respective films, none are irreplaceable, and have no bearing to the plot. They most likely could have been replaced with another work of art with the audience not losing out on much. However, Magritte's "The Son of Man" gets a more prominent showcase in 1999's The Thomas Crown Affair, becoming a plot point central to the film's finale.


Amongst the many memorable sights to be seen in the Harry Potter series, the talking (and seeing, and apparently feeling) paintings that adorn the walls of the many stairwells and the dormitories has got to be one of the most creative and interesting. Though featured in some small part or another in all of the films thus far, they are given a more robust look in Prisoner of Azkaban, as the matronly woman who looks over the Gryffindor house is given quite a scare by the threat of one Sirius Black.


The work of artist Michael Sowa is featured in 2001's Amelie, and some are given speaking (or at least moving) parts as well. In what is often described as a "whimsical" film (though I find that description dismissive), seeing the artwork move and talk isn't all that unexpected, and Sowa's form lends itself perfectly to the tone of the movie.

Got more? You know what to do...

And then...