Cult Phenomena
"Does Barry Manilow know that you raid his wardrobe?"
So my sister has finally seen the holy trinity of the Brat Pack movies (Sixteen Candles, The Breakfast Club, Pretty in Pink). Turns out she's not a fan. I insisted she needs to watch them again. I think she was disappointed because she was expecting something different than what they ended up being. I understand, because I remember watching The Breakfast Club for the first time and wondering what all the fuss had been about. Mind you, I was 15 and naive, not to mention the t.v. we watched it on was a bit wonky and distorted the outer images (top and bottom) in such a way that Brian, Andrew, Allison, Claire, and Bender (i.e., the brain, the athlete, the basket case, the princess, and the criminal, respectively) looked most times either pin-headed with bulging legs or affected with elephantitis of the brain and teeny pipsqueak bodies. Needless to say, I couldn't help but laugh until I cried every time this happened, and always as if it were the first time. In fact, I'm not sure we even made it halfway through the movie before deciding it was something of a letdown and turning it off. Thus, my first encounter with the seminal classic was less than favorable.
However, me and my need to familiarize myself with everything significant about the '80s, I made myself sit through the movie in its entirety on my own just a few months later. And while it was still not what I had expected to be in the first place, I think knowing not to expect what I had initially expected helped me to see why the movie is such a classic. It's so perfect, and ridiculous, and it has incredibly awesome (and oh-so-quotable) lines. This follows for the other two aforementioned movies. They all have a slightly different style and tone, but contain many similar elements, among those being a coming-of-age story, a relatively standard message about people and growing up (the films are often criticized for being essentially fluff, which is true to a point, but it's relateable if somewhat exaggerated material for a teen), and a handful of adolescent stereotypes. If that sounds like a formula for a pretty cheesy film, you'd be right. But it's stylish cheese. And I tell you, it's well-aged. You just have to know how to approach it. Like I told my sister, the movies only get better with time; every time you watch one, you'll realize how brilliant it truly is (come on, they have to be good cheese, otherwise they wouldn't have the cult following they've acquired in the last twenty-five years).
Okay, that's the end of my expostulation on John Hughes' teen eighties classics. But while I'm on the subject of cult followings, let me bring up a more recent occurrence of cult fandom: Glee. I've seen the show, possibly more than once, and maybe even every episode with the exception of the pilot, maybe not, but regardless, I don't consider myself a Gleek by any means. Because while I want to watch the show to see what they do with the music, it's also full of ridiculous plot points, acting that often leaves one wanting, and is notably lacking in the department of character development (an important department in Hollywood; it's located next to City Hall, so take that as an indication), all of which I have a hard time feeding my head as convincing and worthwhile. That said, I know there are a lot of Gleeks out there, possibly even among the 2.31415 readers I have. If you are a Gleek and you want to get your hands on a bright red Glee hoodie, all you have to do is go here. Scroll toward the bottom of the post to find directions on how to win the sweatshirt. Or, if you don't care about winning a sweatshirt, but want to help a talented individual achieve her dream, simply go here instead and vote as many times as you like.
Well, now that I've spent far too much time extolling the virtues of somewhat formulaic if entertaining and culturally valuable movies, and then trampling on a fun if poorly constructed show, I think I ought to go to sleep.
Goodnight, then.
So my sister has finally seen the holy trinity of the Brat Pack movies (Sixteen Candles, The Breakfast Club, Pretty in Pink). Turns out she's not a fan. I insisted she needs to watch them again. I think she was disappointed because she was expecting something different than what they ended up being. I understand, because I remember watching The Breakfast Club for the first time and wondering what all the fuss had been about. Mind you, I was 15 and naive, not to mention the t.v. we watched it on was a bit wonky and distorted the outer images (top and bottom) in such a way that Brian, Andrew, Allison, Claire, and Bender (i.e., the brain, the athlete, the basket case, the princess, and the criminal, respectively) looked most times either pin-headed with bulging legs or affected with elephantitis of the brain and teeny pipsqueak bodies. Needless to say, I couldn't help but laugh until I cried every time this happened, and always as if it were the first time. In fact, I'm not sure we even made it halfway through the movie before deciding it was something of a letdown and turning it off. Thus, my first encounter with the seminal classic was less than favorable.
However, me and my need to familiarize myself with everything significant about the '80s, I made myself sit through the movie in its entirety on my own just a few months later. And while it was still not what I had expected to be in the first place, I think knowing not to expect what I had initially expected helped me to see why the movie is such a classic. It's so perfect, and ridiculous, and it has incredibly awesome (and oh-so-quotable) lines. This follows for the other two aforementioned movies. They all have a slightly different style and tone, but contain many similar elements, among those being a coming-of-age story, a relatively standard message about people and growing up (the films are often criticized for being essentially fluff, which is true to a point, but it's relateable if somewhat exaggerated material for a teen), and a handful of adolescent stereotypes. If that sounds like a formula for a pretty cheesy film, you'd be right. But it's stylish cheese. And I tell you, it's well-aged. You just have to know how to approach it. Like I told my sister, the movies only get better with time; every time you watch one, you'll realize how brilliant it truly is (come on, they have to be good cheese, otherwise they wouldn't have the cult following they've acquired in the last twenty-five years).
Okay, that's the end of my expostulation on John Hughes' teen eighties classics. But while I'm on the subject of cult followings, let me bring up a more recent occurrence of cult fandom: Glee. I've seen the show, possibly more than once, and maybe even every episode with the exception of the pilot, maybe not, but regardless, I don't consider myself a Gleek by any means. Because while I want to watch the show to see what they do with the music, it's also full of ridiculous plot points, acting that often leaves one wanting, and is notably lacking in the department of character development (an important department in Hollywood; it's located next to City Hall, so take that as an indication), all of which I have a hard time feeding my head as convincing and worthwhile. That said, I know there are a lot of Gleeks out there, possibly even among the 2.31415 readers I have. If you are a Gleek and you want to get your hands on a bright red Glee hoodie, all you have to do is go here. Scroll toward the bottom of the post to find directions on how to win the sweatshirt. Or, if you don't care about winning a sweatshirt, but want to help a talented individual achieve her dream, simply go here instead and vote as many times as you like.
Well, now that I've spent far too much time extolling the virtues of somewhat formulaic if entertaining and culturally valuable movies, and then trampling on a fun if poorly constructed show, I think I ought to go to sleep.
Goodnight, then.