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.

Office Killer (Cindy Sherman, 1997)

Have you ever wondered where all those energetic young people carrying backpacks are going when you see them walking around during the early morning hours? If you have, let me fill you in. They're headed to these large buildings filled with hallways that are lined with little metal boxes (if they want, I suppose they can put their backpacks inside these little metal boxes). What they actually do once inside these asbestos-filled buildings is anybody's guess. But after four years, some of them head over to another building to do a, I guess, variation of the same thing they did in the building they just left. Oh, and like the previous building, they usually spend about four years there. Why, you ask, did they spend such a huge chunk of their lives cloistered away in these unsightly structures? Well, to the best of my knowledge, they did it in order earn the opportunity sit in buildings that contain something called an "office." However, unlike the other buildings, where you're allowed to leave during the time of year when the weather is warm, you're stuck inside this ghastly place for the rest of your life. That is, if you don't end up being murdered by a mousy co-worker or get fired for staring lustfully at Molly Ringwald's legs for a longer than normal period of time; which, according to the guidelines that dictate office behaviour, can be no longer than two seconds. Two seconds?!? You can't possibly expect the bank where I keep the majority of my spank-related images to be able to work with just lousy two seconds worth of visual stimuli? It's an erection nonstarter. Besides, when you say, "staring lustfully at Molly Ringwald's legs," you're speaking metaphorically, right? Right? Hello? I'm sorry, I was just thinking about the question. No, it's not a metaphor. The film is Office Killer, and it's the place for fans of mid-90s Molly Ringwald to get their sultry redheaded kicks.
 

 

If you have always wanted to see a film where Carol Kane, Molly Ringwald, and Jeanne Tripplehorn act nasty to one another in an office environment (and who hasn't?), Office Killer is definitely the movie for you. Well, truth be told, I think Molly Ringwald provides most of the cattiness. And I would say that Jeanne Tripplehorn is mostly responsible for giving the project the clothes-adjusting awkwardness it desperately needs. What about Carol Kane? She does the shy murderess who's trying to figure out e-mail thing. Either way, they all end up bringing some much needed camp to the table. 
 

 

Oh, and if you're wondering what "clothes-adjusting awkwardness" is, it's those subtle moments in the film when Jeanne Tripplehorn tries to adjust the fit of her ill-fitting office attire.
 

 

Holy crap! I can't believe I just mentioned the word "camp" without it being adjacent to Barbara Sukowa, who plays Virginia Wingate, a.k.a. "The Nicotine Queen," a.k.a. "The Asthmatic Bitch," the editor-in-chief of Constant Consumer magazine. While sitting in her office, Virginia, who is being annoyed by Nora (Jeanne Tripplehorn), gives us our first taste of camp when she opens her mouth and begins to laugh. I know, that doesn't sound very campy. But you should have seen her. No-one laughs while holding a cigarette like Barbara Sukowa does. It also helps that she has long, black fingernails, likes to wear leather blazers, and is covered with about ten pounds worth of gaudy gold jewelry.
 

 

The office is thrown into chaos when a serial killer starts to...Just kidding, downsizing is the first thing to strike fear into the hearts of the employees of Constant Consumer, and it's Nora's job to hand out the letters telling certain workers that their hours have been reduced. You know the letter is going to be trouble just by looking at the way it starts: "Dear Colleague." To make matters worse, a new computer system is being introduced to the office, which is being installed by Daniel Birch (Michael Imperioli), a computer expert; when I think of computer experts, I think of Michael Imperioli. Am I implying that an Italian-American can't be a computer expert? No, I'm implying that Michael Imperioli can't be one. In other words, I didn't buy him for a second as the office's resident Steve Wozniak.
 

 

Eww, see what you what you made me do? I just name-dropped Steve Wozniak. How pedestrian. Quick, start typing words about Molly Ringwald's first scene. Like I said, Molly Ringwald brings some much needed cattiness to the proceedings, and displays this cattiness right from the get-go by mocking Jeanne Tripplehorn's pink, two-sizes too big suit. To be fair, though, Jeanne Tripplehorn does make fun of Molly Ringwald's eye shadow first. Nonetheless, Molly's insult was totally justified (she's right, her suit is awful), while Jeanne's dig was way out of bounds (Molly's eye makeup is sublimely applied).
 

 

You can't really see what Molly Ringwald's Kim Poole is wearing in her opening scene. But later on you can definitely see that that she has on this sparkly silver-grey number. Sprawled out in a leg-friendly manner on a desk as Jeanne Tripplehorn and Michael Imperioli played with the office's new laptops, Molly Ringwald establishes early on that she and her many saucy headbands mean business. 
 

 

After accidentally electrocuting her sleazy boss, Gary Michaels (David Thornton - Mr. Cyndi Lauper), office drone Doreen Douglas (Carol Kane), who, unlike Kim Poole, needs a few pointers about proper makeup application, decides to take him home with her instead of calling the police. Don't worry, that's not a spoiler, it's obvious that Doreen is the "office killer." Unfortunately, Kim Poole is the only one in the office who suspects there's something not right about this Doreen person. And while everyone loves to watch Kim strut around the office in her short skirts and black pantyhose, she's not exactly the most trustworthy (she's an ambitious go-getter who tells it like it is). This lack of trust causes a bit of a problem when Kim Poole tries to sound the alarm.
 

 

Besides, who's gonna buy that a waifish woman with irregular eyebrows, one who takes care of her disabled mother (Alice Drummond), is the one bumping off employees? To add insult to injury, Jeanne Tripplehorn and her frighteningly imprecise bangs befriends Doreen. Which makes Molly Ringwald come off as a bully. When, in truth, she's the film's plucky heroine.
 

 

My favourite Molly Ringwald outfit is the grey skirt/black pantyhose/white pumps/tropical-themed top ensemble she wears during the bulk of the film's meaty middle section.
 

 

The runner-up being her post-I just got fired look. For someone who was recently fired, and, on top of that, nearly strangled to death in a dark stairwell, Kim Poole is looking pretty stylish, and, dare I say, relaxed, lounging in her skimpy, purple and blue paint splatter dress.
 

While I admire Molly Ringwald's attempt re-invent herself as an actress by playing the office skank in a slasher film directed by famed photographer Cindy Sherman, it's the underrated Carol Kane who steals the show with her demented portrayal of an undervalued employee who keeps dead girl scouts in her basement.
 

 

When they show that Doreen had in fact murdered the girl scouts who came to her door to sell cookies, I let out a "yes!" Not because I was glad they were dead. On the contrary, I think all little girls deserve to grow up to live long and productive lives. But because the film had the guts to "go there."
 

 

Now, of course, some might say it's easier to play demented as supposed to skanky (Molly Ringwald), or even bang-heavy (Jeanne Tripplehorn), but I thought Carol Kane did an excellent job balancing her character's demented side with her more mousy tendencies.
 

 

Expertly photographed–and it should be given the level of the talent behind camera (including Todd Haynes)–Office Killer, while lacking the gore most horror fans crave, should be celebrated. Why? How often do you come across a film that star Carol Kane, Jeanne Tripplehorn, and a mid-90s era Molly Ringwald? That's right, not very often. So, yeah, the film should be celebrated. Just don't go into it thinking it's going to be a splatter-fest. The only splatter you'll find in this movie, is the paint on my second favourite Molly Ringwald outfit. If you're a horror fan who prefers camp to gore, and fashion to spine-tingling thrills, check this flick out immediately.

Girls Just Want to Have Fun (Alan Metter, 1985)

The first thing I noticed as I looked toward the viewing screen was the neon glow emanating from the ankle socks and tank-tops of those assembled on the stage of Dance T.V. (a television show about dancing). My eyes, soaked in a rich tapestry of vicious pinks and transsexual blues, watched as the taut bodies encased in these brightly coloured fabrics thrashed about in a frenzied attempt to justify their corporeal existence. Now if that isn't a great first impression, I don't know what is. Actually, I think the first thing I saw was the celestial contour of Sarah Jessica Parker's unfairly maligned profile, but that's not important. What is important is that I got to bask in the unparalleled righteousness that is Girls Just Want to Have Fun (a.k.a. Lipstick & Ice Cream), a film that symbolizes everything that was electro-positive about the 1980s. The garish clothing, the prerequisite Kristi Somers (Tomboy) supporting role, a physically attractive yet ill-natured antagonist (Holly Gagnier), the synth-driven pop music, the Molly Kathleen Ringwald in The Breakfast Club-style dancing, the girlish giggling...there all here.

Oh, and the montages were so emotionally charged, that I was almost tempted to put on my pointiest pair of winklepickers and smugly admire the buckles as they shimmered in the glow of my boyfriend's scrotal piercing.

Brushing aside the bland earth tones of the punk scene and the soul crushing denim look of the rock crowd, this film celebrates the sheer wonderfulness that is new wave. I mean, the number of fingerless gloves I spotted in this film made my head spin.

Gloves without fingers: They're great for swinging on playground equipment or dialing telephones.

Seriously, I loved the way Girls Just Want to Have Fun portrayed new wave fashion as something to be proud of. (I dislike it when people liken the style to the equivalent of drinking five parsecs of unrefrigerated clown vomit.)

This pride is best represented in the variegated form of Lynne Stone, the gumptious gal pal of Janey (the lead girl who desires fun). Played with hilarious aplomb by Helen Hunt (who has never been funnier), Lynne is the pinnacle of new wave adventurousness, as her outfits ranged from kooky (a grasshopper-adorned hat with a torn yellow sweater) to the bizarre (I could have sworn I saw her wearing blue dinosaurs in her hair).

Over on the other side of the girl/fun spectrum, Sarah Jessica Parker's Janey is saddled with a plaid skirt and a blue blazer for lion's share of the film. However, when she does get to let her Lauper flag fly, she does so with a splashy elegance. And dancing exuberantly to the bubbly strains of Q-Feel's "Dancing in Heaven (Orbital Be-Bop)" in rose-coloured leggings, well, that automatically lands you in my good book (as it is an excellent song).

Rounding out the girly triad, Shannen Doherty (Heathers) plays Maggie, the little sister of Janey's dance partner, Jeff (a hunky Lee Montgomery - girls swoon at the mere sight of his hairy arms). Anyway, I thought Shannen was adorable. Which is a word not often associated with Miss Doherty's work. But here, she's cute and sane.

On the surface, it may seem like your average girl meets boy, girl mopes while wearing purple panties, girl and boy enter a dance contest type of movie. Nevertheless, it's got so many levels to it, that lost count. Oh, sure, the film has a number of inconsistencies, like when Lynne says the greatest inventions of the twentieth century are Tab and the Walkman, and ten minutes later she's drinking a Pepsi. But judged solely on the basis of style and execution, Girls Just Want to Have Fun is a winner. (Orbital Be-Bop)

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