Since I watched the Brats documentary recently, Hulu keeps serving up Brat Pack movies for my viewing pleasure.
So I bit. On two. St. Elmo’s Fire and About Last Night.
I think I can safely say I don’t need to see them ever again. I can understand clearly why they appealed to me when they first came out. I was in my mid-20s and, like these characters, also trying to find my way.
I had quit college, only to return later and finish, but by then I was already working in journalism and wanted to stay there, complete with degree. It didn’t happen for me in the traditional four years. More like 10. My active social life was a priority in my early 20s – ladies’ night here, cover band there. Sprinkle in some Club Meds.
Yeeha.
However, watching these movies now made me squirm at parts. Retain freedom? Settle down? Drink until you can’t stand? Keep your wits about you? Sleep around? Stay monogamous? Whew. Around and around we go.
I feel no need to go back. These storylines kind of irritate me now.
With that said, there are still movies from my young adult days that resonate. The most famous (arguably) of the Brat Pack flicks is, to me, by far the best and most classic one – The Breakfast Club. There is almost no time when I won’t stop to watch that if it’s on.
The genius of John Hughes has held up here. In some ways it’s the most relatable. The “types” in high school, clashing at a Saturday detention. The “why” behind who they are. Snobby sophisticate Claire. Rebel guy Bender. Jock dude Andy. Wimpy brain Brian. Odd girl Allison. A perfectly cast writing masterpiece.
I just watched Demi Moore’s Debbie give it another shot with Rob Lowe’s Dan in About Last Night and haven’t given another thought to whether or not they work out in the end. As for Judd Nelson’s Alec in St. Elmo’s Fire, does he keep it in his pants long enough to get Ally Sheedy’s Leslie back? Andrew McCarthy’s Kevin might be pining for the answer, but I’m not that invested. What-ever.
But the characters in The Breakfast Club? I’m still rooting for all of them. I wanted those bonds they formed to last beyond detention. To change them in some way. I liked that they found out something about who they are beyond the labels that had been foisted on them. The were forced to ask questions. Why had I fallen into this behavior? This clique? How was my perception of other people wrong? How has that shifted? Widened?
None of the other flicks compare in this way. I love its emotional intelligence.
This isn’t to say I don’t enjoy an occasional return to Animal House with its raw bawdiness or Ferris Bueller’s Day Off for showing us what it’s like to seize the day. Shake it up, baby.
But Bender raising his fist to Don’t You Forget About Me? I haven’t. I really hope he made a nice life for himself.
[Editorial Note: This is my 18th installment in a series I began in order to give my writing some flow after being in a healing phase from knee surgeries for a year (2023-24).]
