Movie Review: Planes, Trains and Automobiles (1987)

★★★★★

Planes, Trains, and Automobiles is hilarious and weirdly heartwarming. Steve Martin and John Candy are a dream team.

Robbie G.

Oregon

Some comedies make you laugh but fade from memory. Others stick with you because, under the jokes, they hit something genuine. Planes, Trains and Automobiles is one of those rare films that manages both.

As a reviewer for BoxReview.com, I think it’s one of John Hughes’ best works and not just because of the quotable lines or the wild travel mishaps. It’s because, by the time the credits roll, you actually care about these characters and what they’ve been through.

The Premise: Two Travelers, One Disaster After Another

Neal Page (Steve Martin) is an uptight marketing executive trying to get from New York to Chicago for Thanksgiving. Del Griffith (John Candy) is a chatty, overly friendly shower curtain ring salesman headed the same way.

When a snowstorm cancels their flight, Neal reluctantly teams up with Del for a series of increasingly disastrous travel attempts involving planes, trains, buses, trucks, and even a burnt-out rental car, all while their personalities clash at every turn.

Steve Martin’s Neal Page: The Slow Boil

Martin plays Neal with a controlled frustration that makes his eventual blow-ups all the more satisfying. He’s polite at first, then sarcastic, then outright furious, but never so much that you stop rooting for him.

What’s less talked about is how Neal changes over the film. At the start, he sees Del as an obstacle; by the end, he sees him as a person. That arc is subtle but essential to why the ending hits so hard.

John Candy’s Del Griffith: The Secret Heart of the Film

Candy’s Del is a masterclass in balancing comedy and pathos. On the surface, he’s an avalanche of bad habits: he’s messy, loud, and oblivious to social cues. But Candy plays him with such warmth that you can’t help but like him even when he’s driving Neal crazy.

What’s often overlooked is how much pain Candy lets slip through the cracks. Del’s little asides about “being alone” take on new meaning by the final scene, making the comedy richer in retrospect.

John Hughes’ Direction: Chaos and Compassion

Hughes was known for teen comedies, but here he proves just as adept at adult characters. He stages the slapstick exploding cars, backwards driving, train breakdowns with precision, but always keeps the focus on the people, not just the gags.

One underappreciated element is how Hughes paces the quieter moments. After a big laugh, he’ll let the camera linger on a face or a pause, giving the film emotional weight that pure farce wouldn’t have.

The Comedy: Situational, Physical, and Verbal

Planes, Trains, and Automobiles throws every kind of humor at the audience:

• Situational comedy: Being stuck in the same bed as a stranger, losing your rental car in the snow.

• Physical comedy: Candy’s coat getting caught in a cab door, Martin’s frozen expressions in bad situations.

• Verbal comedy: Neal’s legendary “you’re going the wrong way!” moment and his rant at the rental car counter (earning the film its R rating for one perfectly delivered F-bomb storm).

Because Hughes mixes these styles, the laughs never feel repetitive.

Underappreciated Element: The Supporting Characters

Most reviews focus on Martin and Candy, but the supporting roles add texture: Edie McClurg’s overly cheerful rental car agent, Kevin Bacon’s silent cab competitor, Michael McKean’s overly cautious state trooper. These quick appearances add to the sense that the whole world is conspiring against Neal and Del.

The Soundtrack and Tone

The soundtrack mixes 80s pop with folksy and bluesy tracks, giving the film a slightly offbeat feel that matches its blend of humor and heart. Ira Newborn’s score sneaks in tender piano pieces during the quieter scenes, reinforcing that this isn’t just a madcap road movie.

The Ending: Why It Still Hits Hard

Without spoiling too much for first-time viewers, the ending recontextualizes Del entirely. All the frustrations, the mishaps, the overbearing chatter suddenly mean something different.

Hughes doesn’t milk this reveal for melodrama. It’s understated, letting the audience piece together the truth along with Neal. That restraint is what makes the last few minutes so powerful; you don’t feel manipulated, you just feel.

Why Planes, Trains, and Automobiles Still Works Today

Holiday travel chaos? Still relatable. Odd-couple comedy? Still timeless. But what really keeps this film alive decades later is its humanity. Hughes, Martin, and Candy create two characters who start as caricatures and end as friends you’re genuinely glad to see make it home.

It’s also one of the few Thanksgiving movies that’s not about family drama; it’s about the journey to get there, and the unexpected connections you make along the way.

Final Thoughts

Planes, Trains and Automobiles is proof that a road trip movie can be more than just a string of wacky events. It can be funny, warm, and a little bittersweet, all in the same breath.

If you’ve never seen it, it’s the perfect holiday watch, especially if you’re stuck in an airport. And if you have seen it, you know that by the time Neal and Del part ways, you’re smiling through a lump in your throat.