Real Genius (Martha Coolidge, 1985)

In Real Genius, a ragtag group of university students at a Caltech-style California technical institute unwittingly help the U.S. military develop a powerful laser that will enable them to kill anyone they want with the simple push of a button. When said ragtag group of university students eventually learn what their laser is going to be used for, they try to stop them. Wow, talk about science fiction. The reason they try stop them, by the way, is because to them the idea of being able to vanquish your foes from the comfort of your living room is immoral and unethical. Of course, nowadays, killing people with the flick of a switch is commonplace. But back in the mid-1980s, not being in at least the same zip code of the person you wanted to kill was seen as cowardly. Oh, how times have changed. Don't worry, I'll get to the scene with the sexy beautician students from The Wanda Trussler School of Beauty frolicking [makeshift] pool-side and I'll be sure to talk about Michelle Meyrink's delectable Meyrinkian thighs, and, not to mention, her Colleen Moore-inspired haircut in a second. It's just that I wanted to prove that I could make a profound point if I wanted to. Now, you wouldn't think that Real Genius would be the type of film that could elicit such a point. However, as most people know, Real Genius isn't as dumb as it looks. Sure, the look plastered on Val Kilmer's face throughout this movie practically screams cluelessness, but underneath that doltish grin lies a sly form of intelligence.

In the past decade or so, the pop culture landscape has been littered with smirking eggheads like Val Kilmer's Chris Knight. Whether they be on TV shows like, Silicon Valley or The Big Bang Theory, or in movies, like, oh, let's say, The Martian or Interstellar, knowing stuff about science has somehow become cool.

Oh, and in case you're wondering, watching two derelicts fight over a half-smoked cigarette while waiting in line to see Laibach was what was considered cool back in my day. And just for the record, I've never seen an episode of The Big Bang Theory from start to finish.

Call it the anti-Revenge of the Nerds, Real Genius is the thinking man's college set comedy. While not as raunchy or crude... or lewd... or even lascivious as Revenge of the Nerds, this Martha Coolidge-directed film has two of the best montages I've seen in a long time. Placed near the beginning and the end of the movie, these montages help move the plot forward by showing the rapid passage of time. Featuring a series of events that go out of their way to show the evolution of the principal characters, these montages are the reason the film is ninety minutes and not three hours. Allowing directors to cram more movie into their movies, the montage is a vital component of cinema.

You're probably thinking to yourself: Um, every movie from the 1980s has a montage. While, yes, that is true. The montages that appear in Real Genius are different. In that, they actually serve a purpose. And it shouldn't come as a surprise, as Martha Coolidge's Valley Girl has some totally awesome montages as well. Get it, "totally awesome." I'm using Valleyspeak in conjunction with Valley Girl, which, most of you will probably agree, is not even close to being grody to the max.

While there's no Valleyspeak spoken in Real Genius, Valley Girl's Michelle Meyrink is basically the female lead and Deborah Foreman has a small part as the daughter of Ed Lauter, who, of course, plays a hard-ass military man.

Don't let the I ♥ Toxic Waste t-shirt fool you, Val's Chris Knight is no Spicoli. He's neither a manipulative sociopath like that Ferris Bueller creep. No, Chris Knight is one of the better cinematic role models to be hatched during the 1980s. Quick-witted, smart as a whip, sexually active and sporting a social conscience, Chris Knight represents all that is good and pure. Seriously, he's one of the few slovenly rebellious types I've seen that I didn't want to slap silly by the time the Tears For Fears song started to inevitably play over the closing credits.

Sure, it helped that Chris Knight's antagonists, the aptly named Kent and Prof. Jerry Hathaway, are played by William Atherton and Robert Prescott (actors renowned for their ability to be first-rate assholes), but you can't help but like Chris Knight. And a lot of it has to do with Val Kilmer, whose never been more charming than he is here.

After an opening credits sequence that shows us the evolution of weaponry (from the bow and arrow to the atomic bomb), we get a military demo of some kind of space laser and a scene featuring a 15 year-old science whiz-kid named Mitch (Gabe Jarret), who specializes in lasers. Call me perceptive, but I think this film is an artful satire about how the military exploits scientific innovation in order to make killing easier. I mean, how long did it take for some military commander to suggest that they put machine guns on airplanes after they were invented? Five... maybe ten minutes?

Invited to study at Pacific Tech (the Caltech-style school I alluded to earlier) by William Atherton's Prof. Jerry Hathaway, Mitch finds himself rooming with an eccentric student named–you guessed it–Chris Knight. Invited because of his knowledge when it comes to lasers, Prof. Jerry Hathaway hopes Mitch can breathe new life into his laser project, which he is actually doing for the military. Of course, Mitch and Chris have no idea what Prof. Jerry Hathaway is up to. Though, they should, Prof. Jerry Hathaway is a major slimeball.

Since Mitch is only 15, he finds college life a little overwhelming at first. You would be to if some guy, Lazlo Hollyfeld (Jon Gries), would disappear in your closet every now and then, and a student named Ick (Mark "They're Beauticians?" Kamiyama) had this weird habit of turning the dorm hallway into a skating rink.

As habits go, it might be weird, but Ick's indoor skating rink is where Mitch meets Jordan (Michelle Meyrink) for the very first time. And trust me, meeting Michelle Meyrink is hella positive. So, thanks, Ick. Thanks for being the catalyst that introduced the one-woman adorable symposium that Michelle Meyrink in Real Genius.

After another awkward scene between Mitch and Jordan in the bathroom (Jordan attempts to give Mitch a sweater she knitted for him while he's trying to take a piss), we get our first montage. While editing is a key ingredient when it comes to making a good montage (the sight of Mitch gradually surrounded by tape recorders and less actual students in class is a terrific sight gag), the song choice is probably the most important element. And this particular montage is blessed with a gem called "I'm Falling" by The Comsat Angels.

Under pressure from the military to speed things up, Prof. Jerry Hathaway threatens to flunk Chris if doesn't produce "five megawatts by mid-May." I'm no scientist, but that sounds like a lot. Not wanting to see his classmates burn out, Chris decides to help them unwind by throwing them a pool party in the school's auditorium. Even though there are countless lines in this film worth quoting, I can't help but make a chuckling sound every time I think about Mark Kamiyama's Yuji Okumoto's "They're beauticians?" line. He, of course, is referring to the babes currently dancing pool-side.

No thanks to that Kent cun... Um, I mean, no thanks to that Kent jerk, Prof. Jerry Hathaway busts up the pool party, and becomes even more dickish.

Speaking of dicks, did Deborah Foreman just ask Val Kilmer if he could hammer a six-inch spike through a board with his penis? He did? Well, that was unexpected.

Determined not to flunk out, Chris and the boys turn up the heat, and focus the bulk of their energy on that damned laser. Which brings us to the film's second montage. This one features a catchy song by Chaz Jankel called "Number One."

Anybody else find it odd that in a film that boasts songs by Bryan Adams and Don Henley, that the most memorable songs are by The Comsat Angels and Chaz Jankel? What am I saying? Of course those songs are more memorable. Bryan Adams and Don Henley are lame. It's true, the use of "Everybody Wants to Rule the World" by Tears for Fears is technically cliched, and on the cusp of being lame. But since this film was actually made in 1985, I'll give 'em a pass (using overplayed 80s songs in the 80s is acceptable).

Anyway, when Chris and the boys (and Michelle Meyrink) learn that they're actually working for the military industrial complex, more scientific hi-jinks transpire and more hilarity ensues. I can't believe they made three Revenge of the Nerds, yet there's only one Real Genius. Come to the think of it, maybe that's a good thing. Though, I have read that there's a Real Genius TV series in the works.

The Boys Next Door (Penelope Spheeris, 1985)

When the two protagonists at the centre of The Boys Next Door started discussing where they would like to go after they're done crashing their high school graduation party, I must admit, I got a little nervous. Throwing around names like, Las Vegas and Phoenix, I didn't like where this conversation was going; I wasn't really in the mood to watch a film where Maxwell Caulfield and Charlie Sheen tool around the desert to the sounds of Great White. My stress, however, began to melt away almost immediately when one of them--Charlie, I think--mentions driving to Los Angeles. Even though the city as it sits right now has no appeal to me, the Los Angeles featured in this film–the neon-adorned, sleazy as fuck, new wave/punk rock mecca that was the L.A. of 1984-85–is very appealing. I'm sorry to interrupt your love affair with mid-1980s Los Angeles, but is it okay if I ask myself a quick question? Sure, go ahead. How could they [Maxwell and Charlie] crash the party if it was for their graduating class? Why, that's simple, the alluring Moon Unit Zappa didn't invite them. Oh, and before you make a comment regarding my sanity, yes, I called Moon Unit Zappa "alluring," you got a problem with that? It's totally cool if you do happen to have a problem with that; it's a free country after all. I just want to put it out there that I am pro-Moon Zappa. More on the alluring Miss Zappa in a minute. Let's talking about unnecessarily heavy-handed opening of the film, shall we? Aw, man, do we have to? Yes, we do. If you want to come across as a normal film critic, you need to touch on the aspects of certain films that rubbed you the wrong way. And judging by the annoyed look on your face as you watched the opening of The Boys Next Door, a film directed by Penelope Spheeris, it's safe to say you had some issues with it.

Come on, dude, can't I just write about Patti D'Arbanville's lacy pantyhose? You can do that; in fact, I can't wait for you to do that. But not until you tell everyone what your problem was with the opening credits sequence. Okay, fine. I didn't like how they used the names of real life serial killers to set up the story. And? And, well, I thought it was a tad tasteless. Isn't "tasteless" your middle name? It is. But still, I thought it was kind of exploitative. I understand why they did it, they wanted to give the film gravitas. But it didn't really suit the tone of the rest film. Which is, don't get me wrong, pretty dark in places. I just thought, well, enough about that.

Despite their conventional good looks, seniors Roy Alston (Maxwell Caulfield) and Bo Richards (Charlie Sheen) seem like outcasts at their small town high school. Looking as if they had just walked off the set of Grease, or, in Maxwell Caulfield's case, Grease 2, Roy and Bo seem out of place in their plain white t-shirt and blue jean ensembles. Actually, I wouldn't use the word "ensemble" around them if I were you, as their attitude regarding the social changes that have occurred over the past twenty years seem mostly negative.

Pivoting her left leg in a manner that will surly send all the boys into a leg-appreciating tizzy/tailspin, Bonnie (Dawn Schneider), the senior class's resident blonde hottie, knows exactly what she's doing as she signs yearbooks in full view of the entire school.

If only Bonnie was a as good at remembering the names of her classmates as she was leg pivoting while signing yearbooks. What does that mean? She calls Bo, "Bob." Oh, I see. Anyway, as the alluring Moon Unit Zappa is telling Bo he's not invited to the big graduation party happening tonight at Joe's house, Roy is talking to a recruiter for The Marines. He doesn't enlist, but you're going to wish–well, at least some of the residents of Los Angeles are going to wish–the recruiter was a little more persuasive by the time this film is over.

You can sort of see that Roy ain't hooked up right during the scene with the recruiter; he basically tells him he wants to kill people. However, the part where he stares blankly at his classmates at Joe's party was when it became clear to me that there's something definitely wrong with Roy; the way the camera lingers on his face is chilling.

On the other hand, the part where the alluring Moon Unit Zappa says, "Excuse me, I think I'm going to be nauseous," while "I Ain't Nuthin' But a Gorehound" by The Cramps plays in the background, was anything but chilling, it was downright awesome. It was right then I decided that I wanted more Moon Unit Zappa in my life. In a misguided attempt to rectify this lack of Moon Unit Zappa in my life, I played Frank Zappa's "Valley Girl." Unfortunately, I couldn't get through ten seconds of it. That being said, the search for Moon Unit Zappa-related content continues unabated; wish me luck.

You mean to say that Moon Unit Zappa isn't going to Los Angeles with Bo and Roy? Ugh, like, gag me with a spoon. Moon Unit Zappa wouldn't be caught dead with these two losers. But you know who is going to L.A. with Bo and Roy? That's right, Joe's tiny dog Bon Bon. After causing a scene at the party (Roy pees in the pool and Bo asks Bonnie if she ingests seminal fluid when she performs head), Bo and Roy grab Bon Bon, hop in their grey [unpainted] 1973 Plymouth Satellite, and head to Los Angeles for a weekend of fun.

Supposedly set to start work at a factory come Monday morning, Bo and Roy see this adventure as one last blow out before becoming a couple of cogs in the wheel of industry. Renaming Bon Bon, "Boner the Barbarian," they're just about to enter the greater Los Angeles area when Roy tells Bo about this "stuff inside me." Call it rage, call them anger issues, Roy displays some of this "stuff" when he nearly kills an Iranian gas station attendant over two bucks worth of gas and a few packs of gum.

As Bo and a shirtless (yes!) Roy relax in their motel room, Detective Woods (Christopher McDonald) and Detective Hanley (Hank Garrett) investigate the crime scene they had a hand in creating.

I would love to tell you more about the detective subplot, but this woman just walked by wearing a blue zebra-print bikini.

Where was I? Oh, yeah, I remember. Getting trouble wherever they go, Bo and Roy unleash the ire of three women after Roy hits an old lady in the head with a beer bottle while hanging out at Venice Beach. The part where one of the irate women rides on the hood of their car for an extended period of time reminded me of that movie with Kurt Russell–you know, that one that begins with "Death" and ends with "Proof."

After taking a break at the La Brea Tar Pits, Bo and Roy hit the streets of Hollywood. Engaging in behaviour that was, and still might be, typical of suburbanites, Bo and Roy yell at people (a wondrous collection of authentic-looking punks and freaks) as they cruise up and down the strip. I loved it when one of the punks tells them to go back to the Valley. You loved that, eh? Wait until Bo and Roy come across Christina Beck (Suburbia) walking down the street with a friend. What happens? C'mon, tell me. Are you ready? Yeah, man, let's go! She tells Bo to eat her fuck. You mean? Yep, she says, "Eat my fuck!" But isn't that the line Rose McGowan says so memorably in The Doom Generation? That's the one. Oh, man, this changes everything. You see, I thought Gregg Araki was the one who came up with that line. And judging from what I just saw, he clearly didn't. Boy, this is awkward.

I don't think it diminishes the impact of the iconic line uttered by Rose McGowan, but it does lessen its standing as one of the greatest lines ever to be hurled in the general direction of the Asian guy from 21 Jump Street somewhat. Either way, Charlie Sheen's confused query after being told to eat Christina Beck's fuck, "What exactly does 'eat my fuck' mean," is classic. I would say, besides his cameo in Ferris Bueller's Day Off, that that particular line reading is Charlie Sheen's finest moment ever to be captured on film.

Enjoy the frivolity while you can, because it's going to get dark. Oh, sure, the darkness is lightened a tad when Bo and Roy watch street performers, the gorgeous Pinkietessa (The Blitz Club), Texacala Jones (Dr. Caligari), Maggie Ehring (Twisted Roots) and Tequila Mockingbird (she plays the wall tongue in Dr. Caligari), do their thing. But mark my words, the boys in The Boys Next Door are done fooling around.

It doesn't matter if they're hanging out at a gay bar in West Hollywood, stalking a yuppie couple, or spending time with a hippie barfly in lacy pantyhose (Pattie D'Arbanville), Bo and Roy leave a trail of death and destruction wherever they go. Or, I should say, Roy leaves a trail of death and destruction. Not to imply that Bo is some sort of innocent bystander, far from it, he's just as culpable. It's just that Roy is clearly the more deranged of the two. God, I'm starting to sound like Bo's lawyer. Anyway, featuring an excellent performance by Maxwell Caulfield, scenes of violence that were actually difficult to watch, Moon Unit Zappa, and a great location, The Boys Next Door is a definite hidden gem; "hidden" because I had never heard of it up until now.