And actually it’s a pretty good movie. I’m surprised how much I like this movie. And Molly Ringwald is an amazing actor. Molly is right into the character and can tear up on command.
I’m embarrassed to say that I’m loving the movie.
Why are you embarrassed?
That movie came out at exactly the right time to hit all my buttons – cliques, ostracism, people not even seeing you walking down the hall because you’re no one. So good. Are you watching an expurgated version?
'Cause it’s a teen movie, I guess.
[shrug]
This was the first movie I paid to see twice in the theater.
I see two responses to that impulse. One is to say to yourself “my perception and frame of reference is inherently a composite thing; there is and always will be a part of me that is still a teenager. Therefore, the movie’s striking of a chord with me is entirely reasonable.” The second is to take a broader look and say “my enjoyment of a given experience, given that it’s watching a movie and not, say, eating a Great Auk that wandered out of a time machine; does not remove anyone else’s ability to enjoy it. Thus the only people who can be said to have been deprived of something by my enjoyment are self-righteous hipsters who claim to be watching it ‘ironically’, yet get annoyed when I punch them in the face. Enjoyment is gained, nothing is lost. Therefore, bite me.”
If neither of those work, just tell yourself to stop feeling embarrassed because some guy on the internet told you to.
It’s a good movie, and life is too long to worry about doing things “right”.
Dude, I watched Home Alone three times this weekend, and cried at the end every time.
What I’m saying is, we’re all good, here. Enjoy what you enjoy.
It is a good movie. I’m pretty sure generally people agree with that statement.
I saw a post on Twitter that I thought was funny: If the Breakfast Club were set today all the kids would just spend the 8 hours texting their friends how much Saturday School sucks and never say one word to each other.
I know all those words, but that sentence makes no sense.
It’s an okay movie. Though it probably makes no sense to anyone who didn’t attend high school between 1983 and 1986. The same could be said for all John Hughes movies, come to think.
That’s crazy talk. The social dynamics covered in that movie wasn’t just an 80’s thing. It’s a dynamic that still exist today and probably will in perpetuity.
Which is why I’d argue it’s not a teen movies if damn near everyone young and old can relate to it.
Who hasn’t had the conversation: Which one were you on The Breakfast Club?
Hmm. People my age wonder which of the Sex and the City women we are.
I remember being so envious of that library. The first high school I went to was a falling down old CCC project without central AC (I think one reason I was never good at math or science is that it is rigging possible to concentrate on geometry or chemistry when it is 100° F and 9% humidity) and the library smelled like old paperbacks. Half the books were decades old and many had obscene doodles in them and nobody gave much of a dann about the stacks.
The second high school was a tiny private school with outdated encyclopedias (I think Nixon was still president in the encyclopedia, and this was 1983-84) and a weird hodgepodge of donated books.
The library in BREAKFAST CLUB is this state of the art affair with listening rooms and balconies and skylights. I’d have LOVED to spent a Saturday there!
Even though I’m a guy I was totally Ally Sheedy, the nutso outcast lol.
It’s a very good movie and even though I’m middle aged it reminds me of school, cliques, problems we all had, and fitting in or not fitting in. Timeless topics that we all (or almost all) can relate to.
I did, and I thought it was pig slop–I didn’t like being pandered to, and I still don’t. It was pure pandering.
I was graduated in 85, and I didn’t really care for the movie. I liked parts of it, but on the whole, I thought it was slow and long, and I didn’t buy the ending at all. They are all going back to their cliques on Monday.
As for the idea that today, they would sit and text their friends-- I’m pretty sure electronics get confiscated in Saturday school.
It might even make a more interesting movie now, with the extra layer of them having to cope without electronics.
Molly Ringwald was talented. She got blacklisted in Hollywood for a perceived snub of Lillian Gish. Some magazine, like Life, did a spread where young actors had lunch with selected golden age (or in Gish’s case, even earlier actors) and a reporter, where they talked about the business, then and now, and shared their experiences. Johnny Depp met with Jimmy Stewart, and so forth. Ringwald was supposed to meet with Gish, but her limo had a flat (or so she said) and somehow word didn’t get to Gish, who sat at the restaurant for over an hour before deciding she’d been stood up.
Limos do get flat tires, but I think Ringwald was perceived as not having done enough to get through to the magazine or Gish. I don’t really know who really dropped the ball, Ringwald, or whoever she actually did contact (her mother? her publicist?) but as a dyed-in-the-wool Gish fan (I wrote he the only fan letter I’ve ever written to a movie star, and she wrote me back), I found it appalling to think of Gish sitting in a restaurant with just the reporter.
Ringwald didn’t work for some time after that.
I hope it doesn’t make you feel badly towards me that the only thing I know about Lillian Gish is that she was the subject of a very funny line that Martin Short delivered in Three Amigos.
Yeah, who the hell is Lilian Gish? And how did she hijack my thread?
I always assumed that was the “unspoken” ending that the viewer was supposed to figure out anyway.
What can I say; I was a 15-year-old cynic and realist when the movie came out.
Or they’d share their ADHD meds and smoke JWH-018, and the Vine of Anthony Michael Hall having a seizure would go viral.