'National Lampoon’s Vacation' is almost a national treasure
Ultimately, I think the reason the film resonates is because of a tangible sense of family nostalgia: a little pang in the chest from that silly but sweet “Holiday Road” song, and that ghastly green station wagon navigating America’s truly beautiful landscapes (and super tacky roadside attractions) from large lake to shining sea.
I remembered “National Lampoon’s Vacation” as being fairly hilarious when it debuted in 1983. Back then, it had newness going for it, director Harold Ramis was on a roll (“Ghostbusters”), and Randy Quaid created a backwoods cultural “icon” with his hilariously skeevy cousin Eddie. There was supermodel Christie Brinkley in a red Ferrari, a hit song by superstar rock band Fleetwood Mac’s Lindsey Buckingham (“Holiday Road”), and the Americana-nostalgia topic of the ubiquitous 1960s–70s middle-to-lower class, whole-family-crammed-into-a-gas-guzzling-station-wagon summer road-trip vacation.
Rewatching it for this review, as I somewhat sadly anticipated, I was mostly bored (I might have grown up a little in 40 years), but I was looking for reasons why this movie has become a bit of an American cult classic. I’ll get to those later. “National Lampoon’s Vacation” is back in theaters, and Warner Bros. has released the film in 4K for the 40th anniversary celebration.
Story
Clark Griswold (Chevy Chase) is an every-dad whose fond childhood memories of family vacations spur him to bequeath his family just such an experience. Paying lip service to such wisdom nuggets like “nothing worth doing is easy” in response to his wife Ellen’s (Beverly D’Angelo) mild warnings of potential disaster, he purchases the ugliest puke-green ‘70s station wagon imaginable and sets out from Chicago for Walley World, a California amusement park, with children (Dana Barron, Anthony Michael Hall) in tow.
Family songs are sung with enthusiasm! Paper maps are consulted, there being no such thing as GPS. (I remember the paper map. You were either a good navigator or you had no talent for deciphering the little blue, red, and green squiggly lines. GPS increased my enjoyment of life 1,000-fold).
But as anyone who’s ever gone on such a vacation knows, they’re subject to immediate-onset chaos, and Clark Griswold’s attempt at a vacation becomes a Sisyphean mission to conquer every mishap and Murphy’s Law manifestation that stands in the way.
Such as ending up in an inner city neighborhood and asking for directions while his hubcaps, er, rims, get stolen; showing off for his family and annoying a local bartender to the point of getting shot-gunned; being so incredibly shallow that he cheats on his gorgeous blond wife by flirting with a different gorgeous blonde, on and off, for at least 700 miles, which triggers his own midlife crisis.
Cousin Eddie
Then there’s the stop-off in rural Kansas to visit Clark’s cousin Eddie and the rest of his extended-family-from-hell, and trotting out, deliciously, every possible stereotype of the things that make us Americans squirm regarding this topic.
Such as Eddie’s cringe gifting of shiny, white dress shoes (“Aw, you shouldn’t have!”), worm-farming as a pastime for boys (not to mention stacks of girly magazines), cough-inferred incest-cough, and also country cousin Vicki’s (a young Jane Krakowski) rebuttal to her suburban cousin Audrey calling her “uncool” for being a farmer—a shoebox full of potent, farm-grown weed. The gifted white shoes were the least cousin Eddie could do, after trying to mooch $52,000 from Clark.
Further adventures: losing Ellen’s bag and credit cards; losing Aunt Edna’s vicious dog due to Clark inadvertently dragging it behind the car; and the loss of Aunt Edna herself, who needs to be strapped to the roof of the car pending a proper burial.
Aged Well?
Harold Ramis’s “Vacation” hasn’t really aged that much, other than GPS and better-looking cars, because the family vacation has only so many permutations and combinations of possible story lines. We’re still happily telling vacation stories, such as the recent Netflix series “White Lotus.”
What’s changed about the movie for me, is me: I have zero tolerance for smarmy Clark not appreciating his dang-near-perfect wife, who gives him everything he wants up until she catches him skinny-dipping in the the motel pool with the Ferrari girl. Yes, I know it’s a comedy! Back then I was like, “Aw yeah! Naked Christie Brinkley in a pool!” Now I’m like, “Clark, you massive idiot.”
While it might be a stretch to call “National Lampoon’s Vacation” a national treasure, it’s good to note that it was a box office success despite mixed critic reviews. It was, after all, backed by a boatload of talent in director Ramis and writer John Hughes (“Ferris Bueller’s Day Off” and a long string of hit movies).
Ultimately, I think the reason it still resonates is because what ties it all together is a tangible sense of family nostalgia, a little pang in the chest from that silly but sweet “Holiday Road” song, and that ghastly green station wagon navigating America’s truly beautiful landscapes (and truly tacky roadside attractions) from sea to shining sea. (Chicago’s Lake Michigan is big enough to be kind of a sea.)
One scene in particular sums up the magic of this movie for me. The family, all fast asleep, drift in their long, green land-boat with the parking brake off, snoring, heads lolling, off the highway ramp, through stoplights, over curbs, through leafy-green nighttime suburban backyards, narrowly missing traffic accidents—and wake up just in time to screech to a halt right in front of their motel.
If that isn’t a metaphor for humans navigating life while safe in the palm of a higher plan, I don’t know what is. I think that dreamy sequence is the essence of why we still like this movie so much, and so magical that John Hughes wrote a different version of it for the ending of “Ferris Bueller’s Day Off.“ You remember the one. Where Ferris, racing to beat his parents’ return, hightails it through leafy estates and winding subdivisions, past a family picnic and a backyard grill, past two sunbathing lovelies (with a slow retracing of steps for a politician-type introduction), past girls giggling on a porch, through a stranger’s living room and kitchen (“Smells delicious!”) to a jungle gym with a trampoline for a climactic bound into his own backyard. These types of montages would appear to be Hughes’s favorite way of celebrating all-American suburbia, and Harold Ramis clearly said ”Amen.”
“National Lampoon’s Vacation” spawned a franchise of six movies, and Cousin Eddie embedded himself forever in American pop culture in “National Lampoon’s Christmas Vacation,” in the ineffable scene where he delivers the choicest two-word response in cinematic history, while standing in the snow in a short bathrobe and earflap hat, cleaning his trailer’s restroom. I jest, of course. But that scene is funny.
‘National Lampoon’s Vacation’
Director: Harold Ramis
Starring: Randy Quaid, Christie Brinkley, Chevy Chase, Beverly D’Angelo, Dana Barron, Anthony Michael Hall, John Candy, Eugene Levy, Jane Krakowski
MPAA Rating: R
Running Time: 1 hour, 37 minutes
Release Date: July 29, 1983
Rating: 3.5 out of 5 stars
Mark Jackson
Film Critic
Mark Jackson is the chief film critic for the Epoch Times. In addition to film, he enjoys martial arts, motorcycles, rock-climbing, qigong, and human rights activism. Jackson earned a bachelor's degree in philosophy from Williams College, followed by 20 years' experience as a New York professional actor. He narrated The Epoch Times audiobook "How the Specter of Communism is Ruling Our World," available on iTunes, Audible, and YouTube. Mark is a Rotten Tomatoes-approved film critic.