"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: