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The story opens in Manhattan a few days before Thanksgiving, when John Candy grabs a taxi that Steve Martin thought was his. The two men meet again at a departure lounge in LaGuardia, where their flight to Chicago has been delayed by bad weather. Martin immediately recognizes the other man as the SOB who got his cab, and inevitably, when they finally board the plane, he finds himself bumped out of first class and wedged into a center seat next to the ample Candy. The flight eventually takes off only to be diverted to Wichita, where Candy has enough connections through the shower-ring business to get them a room--one room with one bed.
This is the begining of a two-day nightmare for the fastidious Martin, who at one point screams at Candy that he snores and smokes, his socks smell, and his jokes aren't funny. During Martin's long outburst, the camera holds on Candy's face, and we see that he is hurt, not offended. He only wants to please, to make friends, and, as usual, he has tried to hard.
Back at the Wichita airport the next morning, Martin tries to dump Candy, but fate has linked them together. Through a series of horrible misadventures on trains, buses, semi-trailer trucks, and automobiles, they end up on a highway somewhere in southern Illinois, trying to explain to a state trooper why they are driving a car that has not only crashed but burned.
The movie's a terrific comedy, but it's more than that, because eventually director John Hughes gives the Martin and Candy characters some genuine depth. We begin to understand the dynamics of their relationship and to see that although they may be opposites, they have more in common than they know. This is a funny movie, but also a surprisingly warm and sweet one.