Pretty In Pink

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Pretty In Pink Page 21

by Jonathan Bernstein


  “Johnny, Are You Queer,” Josie Cotton (Valley Girl)

  Shrill, piercing, entirely plastic and absolutely intoxicating. Cotton warbled her stupid pogomatic-pop L.A. radio hit at the senior prom. Local gay activists retorted with the equally cheesy, “Josie, Are You a Bitch?”

  “Weird Science,” Oingo Boingo (Weird Science)

  Consider the dichotomy of Danny Elfman. By day, he receives fat checks and approbation as the composer of eccentric and individual scores for movies as diverse as Pee Wee’s Big Adventure, Batman, Midnight Run and Mission: Impossible. By night, he’s a longtime member of determinedly quirky ska-funk pranksters, Oingo Boingo. This theme to the Hughes misfire contains their trademark funny voices and stupid hooks, and as such acts as an accurate summation as to why success has continued to elude them.

  “Rebel Yell,” Billy Idol (Sixteen Candles)

  Subliminally, a Billy Idol song is playing throughout the entirety of every teen movie. But the work of this British epitome of growing old gracefully was never more appropriately visualized than as accompaniment to the scene where Anthony Michael Hall tears across Chicago in a car for which he has no license and a zonked prom queen lying across his lap, moving her mouth towards his crotch. Like Billy said, “More! More! More!”

  “Invincible,” Pat Benatar (The Legend Of Billie Jean)

  Ridgemont High boasted at least three girls cultivating the Pat Benatar look. In these lean years for tough chicks, you had to take your role models where you could. Thus, when the decision was made to cast Helen Slater as a feisty rebel, there was only one person who could set simmering female rage to music. Despite its title, “Invincible” marked the turning point in Pat’s career. This was where she turned her back on the weedy guitar attack that made her name and went for something a little hipper. And that’s why this defiant anthem has a strange little Talking Heads–like break in the middle of it.

  “Pretty in Pink,” Psychedelic Furs (Pretty in Pink)

  These Bowie-damaged Brits specialized in sneering stories of sexual ambiguity, identity crisis and jaded hipsters in decline. Which explains why they were the perfect inspiration for a heartfelt story of true love transcending class differences. All the same, the song sounds fabulous as a backdrop to Molly Ringwald’s early-morning assembling of her thrift-store armory.

  “Hazy Shade of Winter,” Bangles (Less Than Zero)

  Here’s one of those instances where the movie sank like a stone and the sound track stayed aloft. Rick Rubin put together a stellar selection of nuggets slyly designed to counterpoint the onscreen ennui. Biggest hit of the batch was the Bangles’ thrashy rendition of a Simon & Garfunkel folk drone.

  “People Are Strange,” Echo & The Bunnymen (The Lost Boys)

  Courtney Love’s favorite group do a note-for-note version of The Doors’ original, produced by Ray Manzarek. It provides a shivery intimation that All Is Not Well, then the movie proceeds to bludgeon you about the skull.

  “Don’t You (Forget About Me),” Simple Minds (The Breakfast Club)

  MTV is given credit for acting as a conduit whereby European synth bands denied access to All-American airwaves could sneak into suburban living rooms. It seems to me John Hughes played an equal part in spicing up the playlists. The most extreme example of his influence is Simple Minds. These Scottish Bowie boys (once a punk band known as Johnny & the Self Abusers) had hauled themselves up the ladder as far as cult status. Hughes’ appreciation for their atmospherics got them the theme-tune gig. They hooked up with Billy Idol’s producer, Keith Forsey, who oversaw their rendition of a moody tune originally intended for the vocal stylings of the Sneering One. “Will you stand above me, look my way, never love me…?” crooned Minds’ singer Jim Kerr, echoing the questions in the hearts of moviegoers who wondered what would happen to The Breakfast Club come Monday morning. The result was an American number one.

  “If You Leave,” O.M.D. (Pretty in Pink)

  John Hughes breaks another previously marginalized Brit act. Orchestral Manouevres in the Dark was a Liverpool synth act with a catalog of beautifully crafted hits. For their sound track shot, they banged out a ballad in an afternoon. In “If You Leave,” singer Andy McLuskey does such an anguished job of providing the lovelorn, pleading voice of Andrew McCarthy’s inner richie that the song was allowed to play out in its entirety (a rarity in the days of sound tracks stockpiled with songs that played for three seconds on screen) and beyond, stretching across the emotion-soaked final scenes like a rainbow.

  “Crazy For You,” Madonna (Vision Quest)

  Madonna actually appeared in the movie performing this torrid ballad and a crashing piece of drivel called “Gambler.” If you compare her appearance—tubby, squawking, dressed like a clown—with that of lead femme Linda Fiorentino—sleek, simmering, charismatic, hardbodied—you might have imagined that the actress would proceed immediately to sex symboldom and the singer would go back to the Tiki Lounge. Instead, “Crazy For You” went to number one and Linda Fiorentino went on to Gotcha!

  “On The Radio,” Donna Summer (Foxes)

  Amid the smashups and smeared mascara of this nymphette melodrama, Donna’s big disco ballad floats like a guardian angel.

  “Stay Gold,” Stevie Wonder (The Outsiders)

  “Stay gold” whispered Ponyboy to Johnny, and right at the end of the movie, just when you thought you could take no more schmaltz, when you thought Coppola’s glop vat was dry, along came Stevie Wonder to push you over the edge.

  “In Your Eyes,” Peter Gabriel (Say Anything)

  Who can forget the image of Lloyd Dobler holding his boombox aloft, wooing back Diane Court with the song that articulated his devotion? “Without a word, without my pride…”

  “Endless Love,” Diana Ross & Lionel Richie (Endless Love)

  A major make-out staple, regardless of the fact it comes from a film where teen infatuation leads to madness, despair and death.

  “Just Once,” Quincy Jones featuring James Ingram (Last American Virgin)

  Last American Virgin had a bitchin’ soundtrack—Human League, U2, Cars, etc.—but in its many moments of extreme misery, this pining ballad would sob into earshot.

  “Flashdance … What a Feeling,” Irene Cara (Flashdance)

  After she wailed “Fame! I’m gonna live forever!” and touched the desire in the hearts of stagestruck little girls of all ages and sexes, Irene Cara batted another one clean out of the park. “I can have it all, now I’m dancing for my life.” Colossal performance. Whatever happened to her?

  “St. Elmo’s Fire (Man in Motion),” John Parr (St. Elmo’s Fire)

  Although David Foster’s instrumental theme from this movie has gone on to become a Muzak standard, this big-hearted sing-along soared to number one, thus assuring that clips from St. Elmo’s Fire were still appearing on MTV long after the movie had been booted out of theaters.

  “Nothing’s Gonna Stop Us Now,” Starship (Mannequin)

  Desperate to stay afloat in the eighties, many long-serving groups conceded control of their careers, handing the reins to producers and outside songwriting teams. Heart, Cheap Trick and the shifting aggregate (currently) known as Starship were the major beneficiaries of enforced commercialization. Chirpy and trite, “Nothing’s Gonna Stop Us Now” was a soft-drink ad in search of a product to endorse. It was a worldwide chart topper, clearing a path for the useless Andrew McCarthy movie it themed.

  “Let’s Hear It for the Boy,” Deniece Williams (Footloose)

  Which song would you to choose to remember this movie by? The Kenny Loggins title tune with all the silver glitter? Or the one where Kevin Bacon teaches Chris Penn to dance? Me too.

  “Old Time Rock ’n’ Roll,” Bob Seger (Risky Business)

  Here’s a song so bound up with a particular set of images that as soon as that thumping piano intro rolls out, even the most sober and Christian-minded among us have no recourse but hit that couch and start humpin’!

  “Oh Yeah,” Yello (Ferris Buel
ler’s Day Off)

  Never a hit, this slice of Swiss-made tomfoolery with its varispeed vocal effects and driving percussion was first used by John Hughes to illustrate the mouthwatering must-haveness of Cameron’s dad’s Ferrari. Since then, it has become synonymous with avarice. Every time a movie, TV show or commercial wants to underline the jaw-dropping impact of a hot babe or sleek auto, that synth-drum starts popping and that deep voice rumbles, “Oh yeah…”

  “Soul Man,” Sam Moore and Lou Reed (Soul Man)

  Total crap, but worthy of inclusion as a prime example of that disease common to sound tracks: the Inappropriate Duet. The wish list of partners to join Sam Moore in this remake of his old chestnut included Sting and Annie Lennox. Imagine how far down that list they came, before one sound track executive turned to another and said, “You call Lou…”

  “Johnny B. Goode,” Judas Priest (Johnny Be Good)

  These metal dudes spent some uncomfortable time in court, accused of corrupting young minds with the evil ideas contained in the backward-masked messages on their albums. That the band got off scot-free is no indication of their innocence, it simply shows that the prosecution wasn’t on its game enough to play the jury this monstrosity.

  “Who Made Who,” AC/DC (Maximum Overdrive)

  Stephen King never returned to the director’s chair after the failure of Maximum Overdrive. My theory is that he didn’t retire smarting from his wounds, but that he had achieved the ambition of having a movie scored by AC/DC. In fact, the eternal headbangers did a sound enough job to make you wish for a better framework for their cacophony.

  “Infatuation,” Rod Stewart (The Sure Thing)

  Unlistenable on record or on the radio, this prime example of Rod’s glaring misuse of his talent is utilized perfectly by Rob Reiner in the title sequence of his teen romance. As Rod barks and drools like a lascivious old pervo, the camera takes its time navigating the sunkissed vista of Nicollette Sheridan. Sex without love is no good, the movie tells us, and the sound of Rod working himself up into a lather over footage of Sheridan’s midriff is enough to induce young voters to call for legislation permitting the automatic execution of any man over forty.

  “All the Right Moves,” Quarterflash (All The Right Moves)

  Perfect song for a movie whose palette was all dark grey, muddy brown and piss-green.

  “Together in Electric Dreams,” Phil Oakey and Giorgio Moroder (Electric Dreams)

  The biggest hit from a teen science movie was “The Power of Love,” by Huey Lewis and the News (from Back to the Future), but Huey is a dark episode in all our pasts, and I wouldn’t be doing anyone any good by bringing him up. Instead, from an obscure computer-age ménage à trois—boy (Lenny Von Dohlen) loves girl (Virginia Madsen) but computer (voiced by Bud Cort) loves her, too!—allow me to recommend this gorgeous pairing of bubblegum electro-elders, producer Giorgio Moroder and deadpan Human League front-cyborg Phil Oakey.

  “Stand By Me,” Ben E. King (Stand By Me)

  The downside of this revived smash was the video with the cast dopily handling each other. I mean, it was okay in the movie …

  “Somebody’s Baby,” Jackson Browne (Fast Times at Ridgemont High)

  Not only did this peppy hit act as a lovely introduction to Jennifer Jason Leigh’s character, Stacy, but it provided shocking proof that the West Coast mope was capable of penning a decent pop tune.

  10

  The Next Generation

  Neurotics, Psychotics, Weirdos, Underachievers and Would-be Teen Idols

  “Shit, some of these punks got no fucking respect,” seethed Charlie Sheen a while back, when the subject of the manner of men who had replaced him and his ilk as new kids on the block was raised. The Chucklehead’s fury was understandable. He displayed the same insecurities we all feel when faced with intimations of mortality. One minute you’re the man of the moment. Then the moment passes. Your untapped potential is all tapped out and the stampede of lackeys and strumpets that once headed your way now leaves you choking in the dust as some other happy scamp becomes the recipient of fawning, envy and expert handjobs. No one stays the wild one forever. Let’s not forget that, even by the mideighties, a chasm had opened up between the Brats and their target market. When he made The Breakfast Club, Judd Nelson was already 26 and most of his colleagues weren’t too far behind. For these actors, their tenure in the teen trenches was going to be brief. Rehab, wrinkles and the previously baffling concept of the cable movie loomed large.

  Ready to retire their ailing forefathers and take over courting the under-18 audience was a whole platoon of callow, unblemished young fresh fellows (Winona Ryder and Martha Plimpton excepted, it was a boy’s club) who seemed to be called either Josh or Corey. Among their number were kids from show-business families (Josh Brolin, Sean Astin), kids with funny names (River Phoenix, Keanu Reeves), kids with sensitive sides (Ethan Hawke, Robert Sean Leonard), kids who became movie stars (Christian Slater, Johnny Depp), kids who didn’t (Patrick Dempsey, Kirk Cameron), kids called Josh (Josh Charles, Josh Hamilton, Josh Richman) and of course, kids called Corey (Corey Haim, Corey Feldman, Corey Parker).

  The majority of these actors differed from their predecessors in that they had aspirations towards participating in works of value and they attempted to refrain from grabbing top billing in every witless piece of shit that rolled their way. They were inclined to gravitate towards material that would afford them limitless opportunities to cry, brood and look good next to an established star. They largely eschewed what we, over the last several chapters, have come to understand as Classic Eighties Teen Movie Fare, hoping instead to carry themselves as serious artists. Luckily, light relief was ever present in the knockabout forms of Coreys Haim and Feldman. But even these two freaks, had they a whit of self-awareness, could raise themselves up on their hind legs and state proudly, “Look, we’re objects of pity and derision, our careers hang in tatters. But before it all went haywire, before madness clouded our minds, we both of us gave moving performances in films of note. Got any spare change?” Tinseltown temptation took its toll on several of their contemporaries, but in the few years they rode high, anointed as Hollywood’s New Breed, most of the new school could make similar claims.

  * * *

  Charlie Sheen, the self-same party boy who opened up this chapter calling for the head of Keanu Reeves (“Bertolucci looks at him and he thinks ‘That’s my guy’?” marveled Charlie) found himself in the position of playing sympathetic protector to one of the new kids in Lucas (1986), a movie which is cute, cloying and hell on the tear ducts. Corey Haim is writer/director David Seltzer’s diminutive, bespectacled, whip-smart, passive-aggressive, lovelorn, bug-fancying title character. Even if he hadn’t been accelerated in a school where athletes are worshipped as gods, Lucas would still be perceived as an oddball outsider. With his huge glasses, backpack full of crap, love of locusts, appreciation of classical music and ability to improvise lies about his parentage, he’s a walking Kick Me sign. Like Molly Ringwald’s character in Pretty in Pink, Lucas is an eccentric out of time. In the nineties, he’d have been a Beck figure, a weirdo waif with a sharp tongue. But ten years before, he was lonely in a land of giants, either publicly humiliated by thuggish jocks or treated like a pet monkey.

  Everything changes during the summer vacation when he meets Maggie (Kerri Green), a demure redhead who’s new in town and stuck in the same social solitary confinement as Lucas. Grateful for a friendly face whose immediate impulse isn’t to push him head first into a toilet bowl, Lucas aims the full blast of his personality at Maggie. They become inseparable over the rest of the vacation; she happily immerses herself in his world of emerging butterflies and diatribes against the shallowness of their football-and-cheerleading-dominated culture. Lucas is so across-the-board strange that Maggie doesn’t question his refusal to let her visit his sprawling home or even call him. He makes a reference to his screwed-up workaholic parents and she and we both figure we’re in John Hughes territory and somew
here down the line, these remote parents will pay for ignoring such a precious son. Sitting back to back in a sewer underneath an outdoor classical recital, Lucas, lost both in the sweep of the strings and the depth of his feeling for this titian-locked angel, sighs, “I just wish school would never start.”

  His bliss is to be short-lived and the reason for his wish becomes uncomfortably clear as, on the first day at assembly, a guffawing football squad deity slings Lucas over his shoulder and deposits him on stage to be mocked by the whole school. Only Cappy, the appropriately named captain of the team (Chuck Sheen), sticks up for the little feller. Lucas is humiliated because Maggie was witness to the living hell that is his day-to-day life. She, though, is understanding and sympathetic and so, though he’s too enamored of Maggie to realize it, is a shy little girl called Rina (Winona Ryder) who loves Lucas from afar. Although Lucas has bespectacled eyes only for Maggie, she’s hung up on Cappy who, as luck would have it, is more than a little stifled by his relationship with snitty cheerleader queen Elise (Courtney Thorne-Smith). Cappy is the victim of an unfortunate blender accident during Home Ec. When the teacher asks if anyone would like to show the hunky football captain to the school laundry so he can soak his stained sweater, Maggie’s hand flies up so fast, she looks like she’s sieg heiling. In the sweet, sexy scene that follows Maggie is so disoriented by her proximity to Cappy’s bare, buff torso she almost slides off her seat. For his part, he’s charmed by her lack of guile and a rambling anecdote about the plane journey where someone threw up on her shoes. She starts to shiver and he wraps a towel round her shoulders; they’re so close and so aware of, though unable to articulate or act on their mutual attraction that Cappy has to puncture the tension by kicking a bunch of footballs around the laundry room.

  Even if you’re unable to empathize with Lucas’ love of winged insects or string quartets, you ought to be able to muster up a twinge over the fact that he doesn’t see it coming. He’s still floating on winged feet when he’s around Maggie, unaware that her attention is entirely devoted elsewhere. When she blows off an after-school tadpole hunt to go to cheerleader tryouts, he ought to get an inkling something’s up, but it takes the abortive double date he attempts to arrange between Maggie and him and Cappy and the bitter, suspicious Elise to show him the big picture. On the night of the date, Lucas shows up at Maggie’s looking tragic in an outsize tux. Maggie doesn’t want to go, not just because she’s mortified to be seen with him, but because Cappy broke up with Elise and she feels she has to, you know, be there for him. Suddenly, Lucas gets it. He hurls wounded spite at his betrayers but they gaze back at him with eyes that are all tenderness and pity. (Don’t you hate that?) Maggie tries to make Lucas see the light. “We were only ever friends.” He rages against the process of natural selection that has sentenced him to a life as a less-favored member of the species. “Do you know how wonderful you are?” she says, attempting to salve his wounds. (Don’t you hate that?) “Yeah,” he replies venomously, “but it doesn’t turn you on, does it?” Then, in a hopeless, here-goes-nothing gesture, he tries to kiss her, and after she pulls away, screams at her to leave him alone.

 

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