Election is essentially about the battle of wills between McAllister and one of his students, Tracy Flick (Reese Witherspoon, devilishly good), an overachiever whose pearly smile thinly veils a thousand insecurities. She's running unopposed for president of Carver High; McAllister co-ordinates the student government.

McAllister's best and maybe only friend Dave, a fellow teacher, was recently fired for carrying on an affair with Tracy. On the surface, McAllister resents her for this alone (Dave's marriage subsequently crumbled and he left town), but deep down, he, too, lusts for her, and fears she'll lead him into temptation. (Aside: Is Tracy's last name an intentional combination of the words "flea" and "tic"?) He decides, however unethically (or is that immorally?), to antagonize Tracy by providing her some competition.

McAllister finds a second candidate in the form of dim Paul Metzler (Chris Klein), a popular jock whose skiing injury has kept him off the football field. (Paul's slogan: "Paul Metzler? You Betz-ler!") Meanwhile, Paul's lesbian sister, Tammy (Campbell), broken-hearted by her straight girlfriend's decision to date Paul, also joins the race. She forges the most successful campaign of the three by promising, before the entire school, to dismantle the student council if she wins, "so we'll never have to sit through another one of these stupid assemblies again!"

The film is a sexualized Rushmore--each of its main characters has an overactive libido. (More on that in a moment.) Tracy Flick, like Max Fischer before her, views secondary school as a scaled-down version of the real world. She is relentless in her quest for success, and so self-involved that she is peripherally blind, or at least unsympathetic, to those around her. (Tracy grew up poor, and she characterizes anyone who fails to see her greatness as an upper-class snob out to get her.) The filmmakers aren't kind to her (the L.A. Times' Kenneth Turan called Election "merciless"), but we do get a redeeming glimpse, late in the story, of Tracy's homelife: her mother's happiness is unfairly, even abusively, dependent on Tracy's success.

Frank dialogue (often delivered as part of ironic narration) peppers the cutting screenplay by Alexander Payne and Jim Taylor. Perhaps McAllister wouldn't be so horny for Tracy if he hadn't once been told that "her pussy gets so wet you wouldn't believe it." Dave has planted the seed, and that's why the thought of spending extended periods of time with Tracy, should she triumph in the election, invades his sleep. (Then again, as the song goes, it's a thin line between love and hate.) Carnal desires motivate Tammy's actions, too, and Paul, well, he's a bundle of sexual energy. (Klein, with his innocent face, generous eyes and cautious speech gets hearty laughs whenever he casually delivers the word "penis".) The dirtier jokes in Election catch us off guard because they're so well crafted and delivered and timed, not because they aim to shock--how many R-rated nineties comedies involving teenagers can you say that about?

I champion this movie for showing us people who exist in life but rarely on screen (what a great twist on the Brat Pack formula: the jock is a nice guy, the geek is a bitch, and the teacher is adored by his students and peers!), and for being cheeky, and for its successful use of multiple voice overs (it's tough to tell a story from more than one person's point of view), and for giving Matthew Broderick the best role he's had since Ferris Bueller's Day Off. However, despite that they share a high school setting and the same lead actor, Election and Bueller in no way resemble each other. To speculate that Ferris Bueller would grow up to become a Jim McAllister is to forget the details of that memorable spring day when the former played hooky. (That would be akin to a parolled prisoner applying for a warden's job.)

Easily the best of John Hughes' teen comedies, Ferris Bueller's Day Off runs with the simple premise of a kid faking sick to get out of another boring day at school. With his parents tucked away at work and (bitter) sister Jeanie safely ensonced in class, invincible Ferris convinces his friends, hypochondriacal Cameron Frye (Ruck) and gorgeous Sloane Peterson (Sara), to join him on a day of sight-seeing in downtown Chicago. It's a last ditch effort on Ferris' part to unwind the perpetually uptight Cameron, as well as a final blow-out for the three before graduation separates them.

The film is a jubilant blend of teen fantasy (Ferris is so notorious that news of his "flu" makes the afternoon paper, and "SAVE FERRIS" is painted on a local watertower), revenge tale (exactly two people hate Ferris--Jeanie and Ed Rooney, the dean of students--both of whom are determined to expose his fraudulence before Mr. and Mrs. Bueller), city tour, and social commentary: Cameron's father misplaces affection for his family upon material things, which is why Cameron feels fear, not guilt, when he gives Ferris the keys to his dad's Ferrari.

Ferris Bueller's Day Off is so effectively made that each time I watch it is a fresh experience. During my most recent viewing, upon seeing Ferris in a beret, I began to draw comparisons between Hughes' film and those of the French New Wave filmmakers. Frequent non-sequiturs abound, such as Ferris' impromptu clarinet solo, and the whole movie bears the casual scent of improvisation. (An existential montage set in an art gallery would surely bring a smile to the face of Two or Three Things I Know About Her helmer Jean-Luc Godard.) Hughes, too, is fetishistic about his Chicago locations--just as the likes of Truffaut were able to capture a France we'd never seen before, so does Hughes present his hometown in a more cherishable light than what we're used to in motion pictures.

The narrative is ultimately propelled forward by Paul Hirsch's brilliant editing--though the film stops and looks around once in awhile, as its main protagonist so wisely suggests, it never feels as if Hughes is noodling aimlessly. (Please don't take the above as a recommendation to see Two or Three Things I Know About Her--it's easy to admire but strangely disaffected.) Moreover, its characters have an agenda--Ferris's day off will hardly prove a waste of time for any of them. Or you.

Election and Ferris Bueller's Day Off DVDs were sent as a twosome to reviewers, and they're almost identical in terms of audio and video quality. Both are transferred in letterbox format at 2.35:1 (16x9 enhanced), each boasts outstanding colour, and neither suffers from compression artifacts. Election's contrast is slightly off-balance--intense whites appear overexposed (which wasn't the case in cinemas), and print nicks rear their head during optical effects, as they do in the prologue to Bueller as well. Ungenerous chapter encoding (a paltry 14) and a hair too much edge enhancement are the Bueller disc's only other significant flaws.

This is the first time the Super35-shot Bueller has been available on video in its theatrical aspect ratio--the previous LaserDisc (which I owned and was quite happy with) displayed the full negative image, about 1.85:1. For those of you who have suffered with a pan-and-scan VHS cassette all these years, the first thing you'll notice about this DVD is how much better composed Tak Fujimoto's cinematography appears.

You're less likely to hear the improvements in Bueller's audio. The Dolby Digital 5.1 remaster has stronger bass response and dynamic range, but the surround channels only cook during the German Day parade. I was immediately disappointed that Yello's "Oh Yeah" didn't get the joint jumpin'--the LFE channel is underused throughout. However, I applaud Paramount for once again going that extra mile--no other studio has made such a commitment to readying soundtracks for the digital era. (A Dolby Surround track is also included.) Election isn't demo material, either, but it does sound notably smoother than Fox's similarly-mixed Never Been Kissed disc. The discrete channnels come into play for the graduation scene, but this is a dialogue-heavy movie and as such it sounds fine.

Election and Ferris Bueller's Day Off also contain commentary tracks from their respective auteurs. Payne is well spoken and insightful, though he breaks too often to watch a given scene. Hughes is less animated though equally forthcoming. If he spends perhaps a bit too much time reiterating what we're seeing on screen, his anecdotes partly make up for it. (We learn that "SAVE FERRIS" remained on that Chicago water tower for many months after shooting had stopped!) Both men unfortunately make mention of deleted scenes that are nowhere to be found in either package. And, curiously, neither disc contains a trailer. In the case of Bueller, which has been spread out across dual-layers, this is especially frustrating. (There just had to be room.) I'd rather have the commentaries, of course, but the omission of previews sets a Paramount precedent.-Bill Chambers