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.

Repo Man (Alex Cox, 1984)

Canoodling my subconscious like a gentle virus, Repo Man is a film that has lived with me for almost twenty years. From the days when I would tape snippets of dialogue from off the television and splice them with homemade industrial music to the time I used to be driven around the seedier parts of town in a large automobile made out of metal, this film has been a trusty companion. My thoughts on everything from friendship to employment, to youth culture and faith was shaped by the nonsensicality that transpires in this amorphous teaching tool masquerading as a ninety-minute movie produced by the wool-hatted member of The Monkees. I have even used the film to help boost my self-esteem whenever I've found myself cornered by those who have the gall to think they're hipper than me. Now, I know what you're thinking, and no, I don't use the fact I've seen the film well over thirty times to stymie their shifty, hipness-challenging advances. Nope. I tell them I own the soundtrack. However, this bit of information alone doesn't do the trick. Uh-uh. It's actually when tell them I own the soundtrack on vinyl that their hipster asses begin to crumple under the weight of my overwhelming coolness. The rush of smugness that courses through my retired porn star body as I over enunciate the word "vinyl" is downright exquisite. Educational and life affirming purposes aside, the wonderfully subversive film by Alex Cox still manages, after all these years, to exude the nourishment my undeveloped nerve endings crave so dearly just through the simple act of watching it. The fact that I have it memorized doesn't take anything away from the sheer nihilistic delight the film bestows upon me each time I look at it.

A surreal tonic for the disaffected soul, Repo Man is one of the few films that can unify the members even the most adversarial of subcultures. Well, except Mods, they never seemed to "get it" (even though there are actual Mods in it). But for everyone else, it's like watching deranged poetry.

A punk rock-fueled opus that appeals to new wavers, rude boys, industrial freaks, astrochemists, car thieves, Stacey Q fans, and linguistics majors, the film teaches us that life can be intense sometimes and that excessive driving can cause brain damage.

Lacking the proper parental guidance necessary to survive in the city of Los Angeles circa 1984, the film follows the misadventures of Otto (Emilio Estevez), an aimless juvenile delinquent who finds the structure he needs under the guise of Bud (Harry Dean Stanton), a street smart fella who repossess cars from people who have fallen behind in their payments. Learning the ropes from Bud, and to a lesser extent, Lite (Sy Richardson), Otto finds the repo business to be tough yet lucrative (it sure beats stacking cans of beans). Things are complicated slightly for Otto when he meets Leila (Olivia Barash), a UFO enthusiast and a young lady who just happens to possess a severe form of cuteness. Anyway, she's looking for a Chevy Malibu with space aliens in the trunk, and asks the rooky repo man to help.

Called me jaded, but that sounds like an easy enough task. Only problem is a secret arm of the U.S. government (lead by a metal-handed, leg-tastic Susan Barnes), the Rodriguez Brothers (Del Zamora and Eddie Velez), Otto's repo co-workers, and Debbi (Jennifer Balgobin), Duke (Dick Rude) and Archie (Miguel Sandoval), a trio of crime-obsessed punks, are also looking for the much sought after Malibu. Which is being driven by J. Frank Parnell (Fox Harris), an unstable individual whose mind might already be starting to erode.

Despite many attempts to sully his status as a cult movie hero with multiple acts of out-and-out lameness since its release, Emilio Estevez manages retain an air of blank dignity as Otto (his wide-eyed defiance and hatred of authority still reverberate). However, this air is no doubt retained due to the fact he gets to rub shoulders with the legendary Harry Dean Stanton, whose Bud has the temperament of a sage. Extolling handy wisdom at the drop of a drink (none of the products in this film have names that go beyond what they actually are), Stanton is quietly brilliant as the gruff and weary car taker backer.

Speaking of quietly brilliant, my two favourite performances are just that, quietly brilliant. The dishevelled Fox Harris (Dr. Caligari) and the equally dishevelled Tracey Walter are tremendous at displaying calmness in this topsy-turvy world. As well reciting the films most memorable monologues: Mr. Harris' being the one about the wonders of the neutron bomb and his overall mental, while Tracy's focused on the origins of humanity.

Comedically, I'd say Dick Rude's Duke and Zander Schloss as Kevin (Otto's pre-repo friend and co-worker) are the funniest characters in Repo Man. Spewing some of the films most quotable lines ("Let's get sushi and not pay" and "There's room to move as a fry cook."), Dick and Zander prove themselves to be adept comics whenever they appear on-screen.

On a non-comedic level, nothing quite beats the image of mohawked Jennifer Balgobin (Dr. Caligari) pointing a gun while in a silver raincoat. The super-adorable Olivia Barash brings a playful femininity to her plucky fruitcake role. Vonetta McGee shines whilst kneeing one g-man in the crotch and chairing another in the face. ("Shut up, Plettschner.") And I was surprised to find myself drawn to the steely presence of Susan Barnes this time around, and just like Miss Balgobin, the sight of a leggy Susan pointing a gun was just as alluring. (On the film's DVD commentary track, Sy Richardson sanely points out Susan's great legs as well.)

Gliding though the cockeyed proceedings like a drunken research scientist is the dreamlike music score by The Plugz. Sure, the film features songs by the likes of Black Flag, Circle Jerks and Iggy Pop, but it's The Plugz that make the film literally soar into the stratosphere. Their surf tinged guitars and electronic knob twiddling create a terrific aura, especially during "Reel Ten."

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