Pretty in Pink (Howard Deutch, 1986)

As they're leaving Trax to go on their first date, Blane asks Andie, "So, do you wanna go home and change"? Obviously implying that what she is currently wearing is not appropriate first date attire. Can you believe this guy? There's a lot to like about John Hughes' Pretty in Pink, but there's a lot that will make your spiro-saturated blood boil. And the scenario I just mentioned is one of the most infuriating. If I was Andie, the date would have ended the second that glob of verbal repulsiveness passed through the mouth-hole attached to Blane's smug face. Now, you could say: Hey, give the guy a break. I mean, he's not used to dating girls who shop at thrift stores. But I'm not going to be doing that today. No fucking way. Besides, his decision to then take Andie to a party being thrown at James Spader's house was just as misguided. And, no, this isn't the kooky, lovable version of James Spader from 2002 we're talking about. This James Spader circa 1986. In other words, we're talking about someone who is a major douchebag. I don't know 'bout you, but "major douchebag" actually undersells the level of douchiness James Spader is putting out there in this movie. At any rate, what was Blane thinking? I realize that the whole dating sequence is set up to highlight the colossal divide that exists between Blane and Andie's different social structures. But never have seen someone act so clueless before. Seriously, you would think, judging by his actions, that he was trying to sabotage his relationship with the redheaded enchantress right from the get-go.

Mind you, I'm not one of those Pretty in Pink fans who, after they're done trashing Blane, goes ahead and starts listing the reasons why Andie should be dating her best bud Duckie instead. I don't think so. Despite possessing "strong lips" and a unique sense of style, Duckie is a clingy crybaby and a bit of a stalker. Actually, all the men in this film have a stalker-ish vibe about them.

Watching Blane stalk Andie in the halls and then show up at Trax, the record store where Andie works after school, like that was kind of unnerving. Think about it. Who wants some guy with no personality or fashion sense following you around for most of the day? I know I sure don't.

Wait, did I just say that Duckie, played by Jon Cryer (Dudes), had a "unique sense of style"? While it's true, Duckie is a style icon. You'll notice that when Blane (Andrew McCarthy) goes to talk Andie (Molly Ringwald) in the place where all the cool/misunderstood students hangout, the joint is crawling with Duckie clones.

We're talking garish blazers, brightly-coloured blazers, tweed blazers, check blazers, blazers covered with anachronistic military insignia. It's like an irregular blazer free-for-all back there. Not to mention, vests! Bolo ties! Studded bracelets! Jelly bracelets! Pointy monk strap shoes!

And my God. The fedoras! Never have I seen so many young people in fedoras. Of course, that statement makes sense when said between 1986 and, oh, let's say, the year 2000. But have you walked down the street of any major North American city over the past fifteen years? There are fedoras everywhere. You could say that everyone has morphed into Duckie. Yeah, yeah, not everyone looks like Duckie. But you can definitely feel his presence. It's kinda eerie when you think about it.

Who would have thought a character from a John Hughes movie would go on to become the template for the hipster movement?

Don't be fooled, though, the toxic brand of masculinity that the likes of Blane and Steff stink of still permeates the atmosphere. Anytime you see a man assume that a woman owes him something, whether it be her attention or even sex, you can thank the likes Blane and Steff... And, in a way, Duckie is no better than them. He has this idea in his head that if he keeps harassing Andie, she'll eventually fall in love with him.

At the end of the day, Andie shouldn't date any of them. Okay, she should definitely fuck James Spader... a bunch of times. But as for long term relationships? Yeah, I don't think so.

   

My advice to Andie is: Listen to music... on vinyl (it's 1985/86!!! Depeche Mode, Skinny Puppy, Cocteau Twins and countless others are putting out albums, like, all the time), continue to play around with fashion, try dating a woman. It's 1986! You're living in one of the most exciting times to be alive. Don't waste it by dating a bunch of needy twerps.

Hell, date a trans person. I'm not sure, but I think I spotted one during the fedora scene. They're wearing a brimmed hat and carrying a camouflage backpack. Trans or not, there's definitely some gender fluidity brewing at this particular high school.

Anyway, yeah. I'd tell Andie to date Iona (Annie Potts), the owner of Trax, but she seems to fall under the soul crushing spell that is mid-1980s heterosexuality. Sure, heterosexuality is fun now (you know, with all those newfangled kinks and fetishes and whatnot), but mid-1980s heterosexuality was a different story all-together. You can watch Iona slowly succumb to it by watching how her wardrobe changes over the course of the film.

In her first scene, she's rocking a bondage-inspired punk look. And to top it off, she uses a stapler against a shoplifter. Bad-ass.

Her second outfit is a new wave look with new romantic flourishes. All that was missing was a Visage song blasting chic-ly on the soundtrack (the film's real soundtrack features three(!) New Order tracks).

The third and I guess fourth outfits combine cultural appropriation and nostalgia, as Iona embraces that brief trend where everyone pretended they were Chinese or Japanese (or, in some cases, both at once) and sports a 1960s-style beehive hairdo/pink prom dress.

Of course, if you were Chinese or Japanese in the 1980s, you pretended you were Madonna. Who, by the way, is mentioned in this film. This might sound odd, but it was kinda freaky hearing people talk about Madonna in the 1980s.

At the end, Iona sells out and becomes a yuppie. Which, in a way, sums up the last ten years (1976-86) pretty accurately.

You start off with punk (safety pin earrings)  and new wave (pink lip gloss on weekdays), dabble with cultural appropriation (remember when you wore a Japanese rising sun bandana to that Kajagoogoo concert?)  and nostalgia (admit it, you used to watch Sha Na Na reruns... unironically). And then you sell out and move to Connecticut. The end.

Random PIP observations:

Duckie, from the looks of it, lives in an abandoned crack house.

Gina Gershon can be spotted twice, once during the gym scene and again at the prom.

Did you know that Trax, the record store where Andie works, is based on Wax Trax! Records, the iconic record store/record label in Chicago? Yeah, I didn't know this. Apparently it's where John Hughes used to shop when he lived in Chicago.

The DJs at the prom are ridiculous. I mean, really? Does it take that much gear to spin OMD records?

A copy of The Residents' Diskomo/Goosebump can be seen for sale at Trax for 7.99.

Hey, Duckie. Yeah, Ed Norton from The Honeymooners called, he wants his entire wardrobe back.

And finally, Andie can't even surf the 1985-86 version of the internet without being harassed. Typical.

3:15 (Larry Gross, 1986)

When I saw Lori Eastside hanging out with the Cobras, the baddest street gang this side of Wilshire Blvd., in the opening scene of 3:15 (a.k.a. Showdown at Lincoln High), I thought to myself: Yay! Add another Lori Eastside movie to my ever-growing list of Lori Eastside movies that I have seen with my eyes. Tickled pink that I had just increased my cinematic output, vis–à–vis, Lori Eastside-based cinema, right out of the gate, I prepared myself for the inevitable letdown that was surely to come when I found out that she was basically an extra. Oh, how wrong I was. Granted, her role is still pretty chintzy, but I have two words for you, my friend: Weaponized scrunchies. That's right, Lori Eastside (Downtown 81, Get Crazy and Fear City), who plays Patch, the leader of the female wing of the Cobras, the Cobrettes, uses her ponytail as a weapon. Now, if you saw a woman employ her ponytail as a weapon, what would you say to them? I'll tell you what you would say... No, wait. Let's let the Cobrette played by Gina Gershon tell us what we should say. Whilst in the ladies room adjusting their hair and make-up, Gina Gershon sees Patches putting the finishing touches on her weaponized scrunchie. And, as any sane person would, Gina Gershon declares Patches to be, and I quote, "so fucking cool."

You said it, honey. And, by the way, you're kind of fucking cool yourself, if you don't mind my saying so. What am I saying? Kind of fucking cool? You're a lot of fucking cool. I mean, it's 1986, you look like Gina Gershon, and you're a member of a gang called the "Cobrettes. Of course you're fucking cool.

Okay, now that we've established that Lori Eastside's Patches and Gine Gershon's unnamed Cobrette character are both fucking cool, we can safely move on to describing the plot or some shit like that.

Or can we? I don't know 'bout you, but the blonde Cobrette in the black stockings looks an awful lot like Christina Beck, the actress who appears in three of Penelope Spheeris' punk rock movies (Suburbia, Dudes and The Boys Next Door); I know, The Boys Next Door isn't technically a punk rock movie, but it has punks in it. At least I think it does...

Anyway, the reason the blonde Cobrette in the black stockings looks an awful lot like Christina Beck is because she is Christina Beck.

All right, let's re-establish where we stand. This movie, which, like I said earlier, is called 3:15, features Lori Eastside, Gina Gershon and Christina Beck as members of the Cobrettes, the all-girl offshoot of the most feared gang in the city.

Most feared in the city?!? That might be pushing it. But if you were to calculate their badness based solely on the swagger they display in the opening scene, they be pretty bad.

Only problem being, the Cobras lose Jeff Hannah (Adam Baldwin), their toughest member, after their leader, Cinco (Danny De La Paz), kills a rival gang member during a rumble outside a hamburger joint.

Even though he still has the Cobra tattoo on his arm, from this day forward, Jeff wants nothing to do with the gang; he throws his Cobra jacket on the ground to signify his withdrawal from the Cobra fold.

After a year passes, you would have thought that Cinco would have forgiven Jeff for leaving the Cobras. But this couldn't be further from the truth. Cinco still feels betrayed. And so does Lora (Wendy Barry), Jeff's crazy-eyed Cobrette girlfriend, who's relationship with Jeff ended the second his Cobra coat hit the cold concrete.

As expected, things are a tad awkward for Jeff while at school, as the halls of Lincoln High, a graffiti-adorned, gang-ridden paradise, are replete with enemies.

Is Lincoln High really a high school? From my vantage point, it looked more like a prison. The way the gangs congregated in this fenced in area reminded of a prison yard. The fact that all the gangs were made up of members of the same race only added to the school's prison vibe.

However, not all the gangs are like this. While the Tams, the school's Asian gang, and the M-16's, the school's black gang (who are lead by Mario Van Peebles and dress like Cuban revolutionaries) are homogeneous, the Cobras have a mixture of Latino and white members.

Breaking up the serenity of this "gangsta's paradise" is a massive drug bust (set to "All Lined Up" by Shriekback). Initiated by Horner (Rene Auberjonois), the school's warden-esque principal, and Moran (Ed Lauter), Horner's police confidante, the bust targets the Cobra's elaborate narcotics operation. Unfortunately, however, the bust does nothing but open up old wounds, as Cinco blames Jeff for his arrest.

While it's clear to anyone with half a brain that Jeff had nothing to do with Cinco's arrest, that doesn't matter, as Cinco has the excuse he needs and plans on exploiting it to the max.

This puts Jeff in a tight spot. You see, Horner and Moran want him to testify against Cinco, but by doing so would expose him as a narc to the rest of the school.

If that wasn't enough, Sherry (Deborah Foreman), his new, non-gang-affiliated girlfriend, doesn't seem realize that the school she attends is a hellhole.

I mean, you're wearing a teal sweater vest?!? I'm not saying your wardrobe should be devoid of teal, or turquoise or cyan, for that matter. I'm just saying it should better reflect the temperament of the school you attend.

No wonder Patches gives Sherry the stink-eye when she sees you walking down the hall. Though, to be fair, I think Patches looks at everyone that way. That being said, Patches does resent the fact that Lora and Sherry have made positive inroads in the dating world. And how do you think Patches expresses these feelings of resentment? You got it, she does so by swinging her weaponized ponytail at those she feels have wronged her.

Call me deranged, but I loved the scene where Patches and the rest of the Cobrettes (including Gina Gershon and Christina Beck) beat up Deborah Foreman in the ladies crapper.

The film's title refers to the time when Jeff must face the Cobras, and once and for all, exorcise the demons of his past. Who will stand with Jeff against the Cobras? The Tams? The M-16's? His floppy and curly-haired friends? Don't count on it. No, the answer to that question might surprise you. A high school movie with prison movie overtones, 3:15 is gritty and overly serious at times. That being said, you'd be nuts to skip this film, as it's an authentic snapshot of 1980s fashion and youth culture.

 

Showgirls (Paul Verhoeven, 1995)

Is it possible for someone to do everything wrong, yet still manage to succeed in life? What am I saying? Of course it's possible. In fact, I'd say more half the world's population fits neatly into this category. And Showgirls is the ultimate tale of failing your way to success. Now, I don't know if the film's protagonist does everything wrong. I mean, they can sort of walk from one place to another without falling flat on their stupid face. But everything else they do is rife with failure. Turning off the radio station channel that was playing Garth Brooks and switching it to a station that was playing "Vision Thing" by The Sisters of Mercy was the only thing Nomi Malone does right in this movie. Though, changing channels with the pointy end of your switchblade wasn't all that smart. Think about it, she could have missed the buttons, and by doing so, she could have electrocuted herself. (Boy, this Nomi chick sounds like a real dolt.) You can say that again. I know I don't need to sight another example, as you already seem on board the Nomi Malone is a moron express, but I just thought of a doozy. In a scene that appears near the end of the film, Zack Carey, Nomi's slick, floppy-haired Svengali, compliments Nomi's thrusting capacity. Now, most people, when you tell them they fuck good, will throw you a sheepish smile and usually say thank you. But not Nomi. No, she spits in your face. I know, crazy, huh? Her brain does not work like yours and mine. Seriously, there's definitely something off about the way she processes information, and I plan on... (Don't tell me, you plan on examining the mind of Nomi Malone?) You got that right. As I watched this film's toilet seat-esque sheen flicker in front of me, I discovered two things: One, no matter what Nomi said, I would disagree with it. And, two, every time Zack Carey would remove his hair from his eyes, I got a mild yeast infection.

The only character I identified with in Showgirls universe was Melanie Van Betten's Versace Saleswoman. Yes, I realize that's a bit of an odd choice, but hear me out.

After getting a sizable tip for a lap dance she gave to Kyle MacLachlan's Zack Carey  at Cheetahs, the Las Vegas strip club she "dances" at (her spastic gyrating causes him to cream his designer chinos), Nomi Malone (Elizabeth Berkley) and her gal pal Molly (Gina Ravera) go to the mall to celebrate. Passing the Versace store, Nomi decides that she wants that little black dress on display in the window. Being that she is a seamstress, Molly offers to make the dress for her, but Nomi refuses and goes hurdling into the shop with a gangly aplomb.

An excited Nomi comes barreling out of the dressing room and starts posing up a storm in the store's mirror. Giggling loudly and spouting a flurry of girlish nonsense, Nomi is wrapped up in the sight of her long, shapeless legs jutting out from the bottom of the skimpy garment. As this is happening, the Versace Saleswoman tries to approach her. Using her shapely legs, which are sheathed in black nylons, the Versace Saleswoman walks toward her in a stealthy, "I'm about to collect me some motherfucking commission," manner.

Realizing almost immediately that nothing positive can come from her interacting with this non-leggy human female, the Versace Saleswoman lets out a sigh, turns around and walks away from Nomi. Well, when I saw the Versace Saleswoman let out that sigh and begin to walk away, I started jumping up and down on the couch. I was all like, "Yeah! You don't need this shit, Versace Saleswoman. You're leggy and you're stylish. So, fuck her and her switchblade-wielding, gross hamburger eating, Versace-mispronouncing ass.

If only the other characters that populate this ingrown armpit hair of a movie had followed the Versace Saleswoman's lead and walked away. Think about how much better this film would have been.

Wait a minute, that didn't come out right. If everyone walked away from Nomi Malone, there wouldn't be a movie. Excuse me? Did I just hear you mutter the word "exactly" under your breath? Bite your tongue, young man. I don't want to live in a world where Showgirls doesn't exist.

(I don't understand, you sound like you hate Nomi Malone.) First of all, I never use the word "hate" (my momma didn't raise no hater). And secondly, there's more to Showgirls than just Nomi Malone. (More?) I got two words for you... (What? Versace Saleswoman?) No, the two words are Gina and Gershon. (Huh?) If you put them together, what do you get? That's right, Gina Gershon! (Oh, okay, that makes sense.)

However, before Gina Gershon, and, I suppose, the Versace Saleswoman, can appear onscreen, Nomi has to get her blandly-shaped ass to Las Vegas. Hitching a ride from Jeff (Dewey Weber), Nomi, who is wearing a black leather jacket covered in frays, is on her way to Las Vegas. To show her appreciation for giving her ride, Nomi pulls a switchblade on Jeff. I know, that's a pretty funny way to show your appreciation to someone, but, like I said, Nomi can't seem to do anything right.

After Jeff steals Nomi's suitcase when they get to Las Vegas, she runs into the parking lot and starts smashing one of the cars. It just so happens that the car she's smashing belongs to Molly. Unamused by this display, Molly tries to stop her from wrecking her car. This causes Nomi lose her bearings and she runs into oncoming traffic. Just as a car is about to run her over, Molly pulls her to safety. For some inexplicable reason, Molly offers to buy Nomi something to eat at a fast food joint. (Oh, you thought that was inexplicable, eh? Don't look now, but Molly is offering to let Nomi stay at her place.) I don't get this, she smashes your car, doesn't thank you for saving their life, and has a fully-body conniption fit when you ask her a simple question. Are you sure you want this waxy, barely lifelike creature living under the same roof as you?

Flash-forward six weeks and Nomi and Molly are best buds. Living in a trailer park on the outskirts of town--or maybe the trailer park was on the inskirts of town, what do I know?--Molly is a seamstress at the Stardust Casino and Nomi has since got a job as a stripper at the Cheetah Club. Told to wear her pink dress with the fringe, Molly takes Nomi to see where she works. Backstage at a show called "Goddess," Molly is busy fixing g-strings before the show is about to begin. Watching from a balcony, Nomi gets a birds eye view of the homosexual nightmare that is this stage show. Now, whereas most people would dismiss Goddess as lurid trash--even I thought it was garish and vulgar--Nomi dreams of being a part of it.

Of course, she blows her first opportunity to do so when she tells the show's star, Crystal Conners (Gina Gershon), that she doesn't know shit after Miss Conners dares to question whether or not she's a dancer (she's of the mind that strippers aren't dancers). And not only that, she nearly cost Molly her job in the process. After all, it was Molly who introduced this mentally unstable jizz jar to the star of the show.

Speaking of getting people fired, Nomi gets James Smith (Glenn Plummer) fired from his job as a bouncer at a nightclub. It's true, James put his job jeopardy when he decided to dance with Nomi (bouncers are supposed to bounce the customers, not dance with them). But when Nomi knees James in the groin, this causes a fight to break out. And get this, the reason she knees him in the groin is because he offered to give her dancing lessons. First of all, why are all these black people bending over backwards to help this unattractive sociopath? And secondly, no, forget secondly, why are they doing this? It's driving me insane.

Anyway, it's not just black people who seem to want to help her, white people want to help as well. Case in point, Crystal Conners and Zack Carey (Kyle MacLachlan), the entertainment director for the Stardust, show up at the Cheetah, and give Nomi 500 dollars to grind all over all Zack's lap.

Oh, and before the lap dance scene, we see Nomi strip/dance for the first time, and I must say, her performance was the complete opposite of sexy. Employing these fast, jerky, aggressive dance moves, Nomi, whose body is an amorphous slab of sweaty skin, proceeds to hurl herself across the stage like a deranged lunatic. As I sat there, unmoved by Nomi's routine, I thought to myself, maybe I am gay? Then it dawned me. The reason I wasn't moved by her routine had nothing to do with sexual orientation, but the simple fact that she just doesn't do it for me. Everything, from the way she thrusts her pelvis, to way she eats a hamburger, was off-putting.

Taking the money she earned from the Kyle MacLachlan lap dance, Nomi buys a skimpy black dress at the local Versace store. You know what that means, right? Yep, it's time for the Versace Saleswoman (Melanie Van Betten) to make her brief yet profound appearance. Approaching Nomi as she's trying the dress on, the Versace Saleswoman says, "It looks quite good on you." To which Nomi responds, "It doesn't suck" (a phrase Nomi uses at least three times over the course of the film). Upon hearing this, the Versace Saleswoman turns around, rolls her eyes, lets out an exasperated sigh and proceeds to walk away. Congratulation, Versace Saleswoman. You're the only character in this movie to see Nomi for what she really is: A selfish, entitled, spoiled brat.

While the Versace Saleswoman is the smartest character in the film, in a strange twist, Al Torres (Robert Davi), Nomi's boss at the Cheetah Club, is the film's most sympathetic. It's true, while on the surface, he might come off as a real scumbag. But the scene where he visits Nomi, who has since landed a spot in the Goddess cast, is just teeming with pathos. I'm not kidding, I nearly broke down in tears when Al tells Nomi, "It must be weird, not having anybody cum on you."

In terms of acting, I would have to say that Gina Gershon gives the film's strongest performance, as she is the only one in the cast who seems to know what camp is (she says, "I used to love Doggy Chow" while sipping a glass of champagne). As far as sexiness goes, this film is limp and unmanageable (the sex scene between Nomi and Zack in his pool is so awful that it actually caused my junk to unattach itself from my torso and leave the room in a huff). That being said, Rena Riffel is smoking hot as the perpetually confused Hope/Penny, a stripper/dancer who's new to the whoring racket. Miss Riffel has a natural allure, and she doesn't make me physically sick when I look at her. And in the world of Showgirls, that's the nicest thing you can say about a person.