"Stay away from ginger ale and tequila!"

Prom night is the lens through which the fantasies, hopes and dreams of middle-class suburban American teens are filtered. You know, like white slavery, gunplay, drugs, grand theft auto, assault, armed robbery...the usual. THE NIGHT BEFORE (1988) presents a highly unusual take on the quotidian prom-night experience regularly portrayed by films. In other words, this is not your average after-school special. In fact, this film is so peculiar and offbeat, that while the story itself is a little bit primitive, the overall effect is so hypnotic that you just can’t tear yourself away. I feel justified in giving away some plot details, since the tagline outlines most of the story and the promo poster itself has the audacity to reveal the central visual gag of the whole movie.

The movie opens with a groaning Winston, clad in a dirty tuxedo and rolling in the garbage in an unidentified back alley. He has a massive headache, has no idea where he is, and worst of all, he can’t remember anything that happened. It is clear that something did happen, something major. Unfortunately, everyone around him is very unhelpful. He wanders around the unfamiliar neighborhood, groping for answers, and stumbles upon some confusing clues: a parking ticket, a wad of cash in his inside pocket, the name Tito. Memories return in painful flashes, serving as clever narrative segues which gradually reveal the backstory to the audience.

Winston is a loveable naïf, so hopelessly geeky that his sole social accomplishment is serving as the president of the high school astronomy club. Through an amazing twist of fate, he is taking the most popular girl to the prom after she lost a bet with her friends. Tara is a glamorous sophisticate, the captain of the cheerleading squad and a teen model. She is horrified when she realizes that Winston refuses to recognize their arrangement as anything less than a regular date. He brings her flowers, keeps rambling on about what a great time they’re going to have, and promises her gun-toting cop father to have her back by midnight. This proves to be impossible when they get lost on the way to the prom. Winston unwittingly magnetizes his car’s compass (pretty stupid for an astronomy enthusiast) and they end up in the bad part of town.

Tara is outraged and demands that Winston fork over enough cash to pay for her taxi ride home. But she is unprepared to cope with the disastrous ramifications of Winston’s indefatigable optimism and earnest belief in the goodness of strangers. “90% of people are murdered by somebody they know,” he reassures Tara. “Do you know anybody here?” Despite this winning attitude, Winston makes a series of fatal errors in judgment, plunging the young pair into the squalid depths of the Los Angeles underworld. Their first misstep is entering the nearest building to look for a phone to call for help. The couple finds themselves in a scuzzy dance club, filled with an assortment of bizarre and dangerous characters.

The club’s band is played by the wonderful p-funk group Bootsy Collins' Rubber Band. Look for Bootsy himself playing an amazingly cool star-shaped bass guitar. The funk soundtrack is a slice of authentic 80’s counterculture and a welcome change from the familiar new wave hits. Winston props up his flagging courage with a gulp of alcohol from a random glass, which turns out to be spiked. Luckily, Winston is a fun drunk. Inspired by the music, he riles up the band to a fever pitch, takes Tara for a spin on the dance floor, and busts some highly impressive moves to the delightful song “Baby Boy.” He caps off his performance by collapsing on a table full of drinks. He tells Tara, “If I start acting stupid, tell me, okay?” By now, it's clear that he’s way past that point. Remember, he’s wandering around downtown with no car, no wallet, no date, and no memory of what happened last night after leaving the club.

Miraculously, he finds his car, only to have it stolen right out from under his nose by a quick and enterprising car thief. If this wasn’t worrying enough, it seems that everyone he encounters knows that a man named Tito is planning to “have it out with him” at dawn on Beacon Street. How do they know? Because the word on the street is that Winston is marked for his doom as “that dude in the white coat and pink carnation.” After extensive investigation and assorted misadventures, he discovers that he sold Tara “by mistake” into prostitution to an infamous pimp named Tito. The race is on to find Tara before the johns and the cops get to her first.

The script is hilarious, full of endless comical non-sequiturs and deux-ex-machinas. However, despite the exceedingly sordid subject matter, the film never really escapes G-rated territory and the boundaries of good taste. Lori Loughlin as Tara is gorgeous and charming, but it is Keanu Reeves’ performance as Winston that is truly a tour-de-force. For me, the touchstone of an excellent performance by a leading man is when I fervently wish that he was a real person so I could date him. Winston is so guileless, so genuine, so courageous, that I was truly sorry he was only fictional.

THE NIGHT BEFORE is different than the typical 80’s movie. Through the classic fish-out-of-water device, the film addresses prejudices of all kinds, from adolescent intolerance of nerds, to more serious forms of discrimination against the homeless and ethnic minorities. I love this film because it depicts an aspect of the decade which isn’t very glamorous, but it does so with such creativity, quirkiness, and good humor that it is stands alone in the history of 80’s films as something really special. When the end credits roll, it’s a wonder they even felt the need to include the disclaimer that “the characters and events depicted in this photoplay are fictitious.” For goodness sake, I certainly hope so! 4/5 stars.

HERE IS THE SCENE WHERE WINSTON AND TARA DANCE:

“Of course size matters! This is the 80's!"

Who wants to see a movie named after a popular brand of synthetic grass? Notwithstanding the poorly spelled title, TUFF TURF (1985) is a sleeper classic well worth a second look. The main appeal is the pleasure of seeing James Spader playing a good guy for once. After being typecast as the demonic prom-night villain, I was surprised to see how well he looks as the gallant, dashing leading man. His character's development is quite satisfying to observe. In the opening sequence, we discover that despite his pretty face, James Spader is a scary badass. He shoots massive cockroaches crawling around his room with cap guns, rides his bike around the schoolyard security guard in annoying circles, and rocks the leather-jacket-with-popped-collar like nobody's business. However, we later learn that he can also look strangely alluring sporting his Princess Di fringe cut, that he can lip-synch like an angel, and that he will let nothing come between him and his girl. The perfect man? I think so!

When Morgan's father loses his job in Connecticut, he must forget his cushy prepster lifestyle and adjust to a ghetto school in San Fernando. He tries to mind his own business, but Nick the local goon pisses him off by stealing his precious bike and getting it crushed by a car. Time for revenge! Morgan decides to mess with Nick by putting the moves on his pretty girlfriend Frankie. She has really long hair which looks awesome when she dances. However, her clothes are scandalous even by 80's standards. It's a wonder she can walk down the street without getting arrested. Anyway, when Morgan first cuts in at a dance club Frankie tries to resist, but he doesn’t take no for an answer. He wrangles her into his car and the mismatched pair fake their way into a lame country-club party. As an added bonus, Morgan's buddy Jimmy is played by a cute young Robert Downey Jr. with beestung pout and emo mascara. He really is adorable and funny as he dazzles the square girls at the country club.

There is an oddly moving scene where Morgan seats Frankie on a grand piano and sings her a ridiculous and nonsensical song called "I Walk The Night," whatever that means. Henceforth Frankie is smashed on him good and hard and doesn't like her old boyfriend anymore. They later dance in a club with scary psychedelic decor and a band of questionable coolness called Jack Mack & The Heart Attack. I wish I was kidding. They proceed to assail our ears with heinous lounge-lizard pseudo-jazz. Thankfully, this weak portion of the sountrack is more than balanced out by Marianne Faithfull's classically dark and passionate track, "Love Hates."

Frankie table-dances and cage-dances. Did I mention she's dressed like a streetwalker? And that this seems to be like the third dance they went to in the same night? That's okay though, because Morgan and Frankie are really cute and happy together and they are so in love. But then Nick and his homeboys find out about it and beat the crap out of Morgan in the locker room. This is just the beginning of the downward spiral of extreme danger, violence, and crime resulting from Frankie’s indiscretions, leading to the inevitable grand showdown between Morgan and Nick.

Their vendetta culminates with the longest, most outrageous knock 'em down, drag 'em out fight sequence I have ever seen on film. I mean this is one for the history books. It clocks in at almost 7 minutes but somehow it felt much longer, I guess because so much stuff happens. Morgan fights Nick and his whole gang of thugs in an abandoned warehouse almost single-handedly and pulverizes them. What makes it funny is that just when you thought Nick was finished, he gets up and comes back for more. By the end he actually climbs up Morgan's pants in agony, inch by inch, as Morgan coldly looks down at him before laying him flat with one last mega-punch. It's too hilarious and almost exhausting to watch.

This film does not break any new ground, but it has no pretensions at cinematic greatness either, and therein lays its triumph. It’s simply a rollicking good time with some laughs, some tears, some violence, some excellent dance sequences, and a happy ending. Also, James Spader makes a pretty darn nice good guy. 3/5 stars.

JIMMY PLAYS DRUMS WHILE WAITING FOR MORGAN TO ARRIVE:

“Welcome to St. Basil’s!”

I'll admit that I've never been a fan of Andrew McCarthy. In fact, I think Andie's choice of bland, spineless Blaine over Duckie may well be the most puzzling and unsatisfying conclusion in that whole decade of moviemaking. But in HEAVEN HELP US (1985), he more than makes up for that debacle. Here, McCarthy finally achieves a flawless balance between shy, sensitive and romantic in the role of Catholic schoolboy Michael Dunn. After the death of his parents, Michael must adjust to a difficult family life, with his overzealous grandparents pressuring him to enter the church, and a peculiar little sister who needs a lot of attention. If all that wasn't stressful enough, he struggles to fit in with the rough-and-tumble boys in his new school, win the affection of the tough chick at the soda fountain, and avoid the strap of sadistic Brother Constance in class.

The jokes are frequent, sharp, and often utterly outrageous, pushing the envelope of religious and social taboos, but never the boundary of good taste. But what elevates this film above the realm of the typical teen comedy is its courageous willingness to confront important issues with sincerity and compassion. It addresses serious questions of religious belief, corporeal punishment, mental health issues, the connection between religion and social class, and how to cope with family expectations. But it never veers off into maudlin or preachy territory, and you will probably not even notice how thoughtful this film is because you will be laughing too hard!

One of the biggest treats is the always luminous and lovely Mary Stuart Masterson, who plays Michael’s love interest Dani, the blue-collar counter girl. Even with virtually no wardrobe or hairstyle to work with here, Masterson turns in an impressive performance, her image glowing right out of the screen by virtue of spunk and spirit alone. I loved the way the romance between Michael and Dani was portrayed. There is nothing syrupy or soft-lit about these two, just a pure and sweet depth of feeling that I could realistically imagine lasting well into old age. In addition to the rest of the soundtrack which features a spirited potpourri of 50's pop hits, cheeky Celtic jigs, and classics of traditional liturgy, Michael and Dani have a single love scene which showcases a downright brilliant use of Otis Redding's tearjerker "I've Been Loving You Too Long."

Why has this gem of a film been so unfairly denied a place in the pantheon of 80's classics? I think the fact that it's a 60's period piece lacking contemporary fashion and music meant that it didn’t receive the right marketing or audience placement when it was released, and it simply fell through the cracks. In my opinion, it should still qualify under the 80’s genre, as it is an outstanding example of the 80’s ensemble teen cast aesthetic. Each of the characters holds up their corner of the plot so memorably, so uniquely, that I guarantee you will catch yourself giggling over their exploits long after the end credits have finished rolling.

Who can keep a straight face for the scene where Rooney examines the boys' lists of sins before confessional and performs his expert mathematical wizardry to reduce their penances? The always excellent Wallace Shawn makes an unforgettable cameo as a histrionic priest who gives the pre-dance sermon on the dangers of lust. But the comic zenith of the movie is probably when perverted altar-boy Williams is helping the priest give communion to the girls. There is not a strip of skin shown, but it may well be the bawdiest, raunchiest, and most hilarious scene ever!

Okay, so I don't want to completely wreck the film for you by enumerating every single scene. Then I would ruin all the surprises, and besides, there are simply too many to squeeze into a reasonably-sized movie review. So just go out and see it, already! This movie is as good as a modern-day miracle. 5/5 stars.

HERE IS THE SCENE WHERE MICHAEL AND DANI DANCE:

"He's not just some guy, he's Bruno X!"

MODERN GIRLS (1986) has no direction, no moral lessons, no lasting impact, and nothing new to say. In that sense, it's kind of like life, if you think about it... which is what makes it awesome! Like a documentary of the misspent youth I never had, but wish I did. Three friends share an apartment in the glamorous party district of Los Angeles. During the day they work to make ends meet, but at night they live for the wild and exciting parties in the city's hottest clubs. Their nonstop debauch is interrupted one night when Kelly disappears with the car, at the same time that an annoying nerd named Clifford shows up looking for her at the apartment.

Margo and Cece trick him into driving them to the club, thus roping him into a series of improbable, dangerous, and exciting events. It's fascinating to watch the changing allegiances and relationships between the characters developing over the course of the night. The highs and lows, triumphs and defeats, follow such a natural and organic rhythm that the viewer can't help but get caught up in the aimless and meandering plot. Margo and Clifford turn out to be intense "frenemies" at first sight. Kelly is an unreliable stoner who finds herself in several tight spots and needs rescuing. Cece falls for the infamous rocker Bruno X and chases him all over town. Things are further complicated when it is discovered that Clifford bears an uncanny resemblance to Bruno X, and the gang must escape from passionate fans and angry music video producers. I did not realize that the same actor plays both Clifford and Bruno X until the film was over, so I guess I fit right into the target audience for this film.

What truly sets apart these throwaway films of the 80's and elevates them into the realm of classics is their flawless attention to detail. Just watch the hilarious method that the girls use to make coffee in the opening sequence, or the way the DJ refuses to take off his headphones while making out because "they help him concentrate." Even the "fake" songs sung by the fake rock star are sort of amazing! The club setting is the perfect showcase for a nonstop string of danceable hits with a lot of verve and edge. My favorites include "Iko Iko" by the Belle Stars and "No Promises" by Ice House. But the biggest highlight is Depeche Mode's haunting tune, "But Not Tonight." I have read that the band themselves do not like the song or the movie, which is really a shame! It's one of their best works and is used wonderfully throughout the film.

Behind all the wild hijinks is a strong undercurrent of melancholy angst. This story resonates with the experiences of many young people trying to find their way in the big city. All the cheesy bits and pieces come together perfectly to create a complete, sincere portrait of a certain time and place. And isn't that's what all great movies should do? It's a delightful film not to be missed. 4/5 stars.

HERE IS THE SCENE WHERE CECE GETS BRUNO X'S ATTENTION:

(Images credited to Jenny at http://www.moderngirlsmovie.com/)

"Fair is fair!"

Here is a film whose iconography is instantly recognizable as emblematic of the 80's, however, most people would have trouble naming the movie. THE LEGEND OF BILLIE JEAN (1985) tells the story of pretty young things Billie Jean (Helen Slater) and Binx (Christian Slater in his first movie role, with blonde hair!), two Texan kids who unwittingly become embroiled in a media circus when they flee a shooting and go on the lam. Billie Jean is an ordinary girl who looks after her younger brother, Binx, who harbors an abnormal attachment to his scooter and a hatred for hot Texan weather. When a neighborhood thug destroys Binx's beloved scooter, Billie Jean tries to extract restitution from Mr. Pyatt, the thug's father, who almost rapes her. Binx defends his sister by shooting Pyatt and the pair must go on the run, along with a couple of Billie Jean's little friends.

While dodging the law, Billie Jean makes her ragtag bunch of fugitives adhere to a strict code of ethics. "We may be outlaws," she says, "But we're not crooks." They leave IOU's in stores they rob and rescue hapless children along the way. She meets an asthmatic filmmaker named Lloyd who is so besotted with her that he films her manifesto and stages his own abduction in service of her cause. He also introduces her to the film "Saint Joan" and Billie Jean immediately chops off her long golden locks, styling herself as a modern-day Joan of Arc. She becomes an overnight sensation, pursued by the media and idolized by hundreds of teens who copy her signature haircut. There are plenty of action-filled chases and tender moments before the inevitable big showdown, and happily these likeable characters get the satisfying ending they deserve.

This film preceded NATURAL BORN KILLERS (1994) by almost a decade, so it is interesting to see the progression of the media's cult of the criminal from the early 80's to current examples, both fictional and real. I have no doubt that Billie Jean's journey provided some inspiration for Oliver Stone's portrayal of Mickey and Mallory. But this is a far tamer picture, backed by a great soundtrack (Pat Benetar's "Invincible" and Billy Idol's "Rebel Yell" are used to great effect), cool sets (including those perennial 80's favorites, the mall, the beach, and the neon lights of the city at night), and adorable actors (keep an eye out for Yeardley Smith, famously known as the voice of Lisa Simpson). However, the only lasting impact of this film is in the iconic image of Helen Slater as punk gamin, preternaturally beautiful with her luminous green eyes and blonde hair cropped boy-short: the face that launched a thousand haircuts.

Overall, not a bad film, worth seeing for a look at the decade's best pixie cut. But once you've watched it once, you probably won't want to see it again. 3/5 stars.

HERE IS THE SCENE WITH THEIR ESCAPE FROM THE MALL:

"A kid who tells on another kid is a dead kid!"

I picked up this DVD in the video store purely because of Matt Dillon's gorgeous mug on the cover, not really knowing what to expect and with pretty low expectations. I'm happy to say that I was pleasantly surprised, overwhelmed even. OVER THE EDGE (1979) is a gritty, honest portrayal of adolescent angst in suburbia. What else is new, right? Wrong! While the story is as old as the hills, I've never seen it portrayed on an earnest and epic emotional scale quite like this. It feels like a teenybopper Greek tragedy, and looks like something that Francis Ford Coppola might have filmed if he swapped some disillusioned midwestern kids for an Italian crime family.

The film follows the sordid events that transpire in the suburban planned community of New Grenada, Colorado. The families who moved here yearn to escape from the vice and crime of the inner city, but neglect to provide any diversions for the bored preteens of the town. Indeed, it seems like the adults are a little embarrassed to have the kids around at all and treat them like an unwelcome infestation, closing down their youth centre and trying to hide them away when some bigwig Texan investors come for a tour of the town. The kids get mad, get a little wild, get a little stoned, make some crimes, and eventually run amok in an all-out spree with predictably devastating consequences.

What sets this film apart are its flawless performances, production values, and screenplay, which approach the characters from the perspective of anthropologists, not paparazzi. Unlike the faux-teens often played by actors in their thirties, most of the young actors seen here are acting for the first time. The dialogue and action feels improvised and completely natural, and the actors play their parts with such forthrightness and sincerity that they seem like doppelgangers of characters three times their age. There are several very memorable scenes, particularly when Carl calls Johnny from a payphone to ask what happened to his brother, Richie. Johnny, who is mute, finds his own way to let Carl know what happened. This scene was so simple and moving that it broke my heart.

Every aspect of the film-making is top-notch. The sets are lovely in their stark simplicity, full of big iconic symbols of Americana, with acres of dusty lots and ubiquitous television sets blaring in the corner of almost every scene. The soundtrack is electrifying, lots of frenetic rock-n-roll mixed with a haunting instrumental score. Even the minor adult characters, often nothing more than cardboard cut-outs, are interestingly developed in this film. The plot unravels effortlessly to the inevitable bittersweet finale.

It's a special treat to watch Matt Dillon in his first ever movie role as the incorrigible Richie White. Director Jonathan Kaplan's commentary on the DVD includes some highly amusing anecdotes about what it was like wrangling with the young star on the set. It's not an overstatement to say that Matt Dillon had more sheer talent and authenticity than James Dean had at the same age.

Overall, a winning film, rough and raw and uncomfortable to watch, because it feels just a little bit too real. 4/5 stars.

HERE IS THE SCENE WHERE RICHIE AND CARL STEAL A CAR:

Welcome to Retro Kino!

This is a blog about my passion for 80's movies, the pinnacle of pop culture as far as I'm concerned. Though I was too young to remember these movies when they were first screened in theatres, I grew up in the golden age of VHS which enabled me to enjoy these cinematic treasures. Thanks to DVD and the internet, 80's films are even more accessible than ever before. This blog will review the major classics and forgotten treasures from the 1980's decade. I'm giving myself a few years of leeway on either side of that guideline, as well as including some non-80's films which are evocative of the time or spirit of that age. Join me for a fun-filled trip down memory lane of the decade that has gripped the hearts and minds of a generation who refuse to grow up and let it go, just because it was just so much fun... back when people wore colors, used lots of hairspray, danced spastic dances, and took part in the last great party of Western civilization. They don't make 'em like they used to, but at least we've got the films to help us keep the nostalgia alive.