Member of the Club?

It’s an odd thing, but with all the celebrity deaths this summer, the one that has made me feel genuinely sad is John Hughes’. I am definitely a latecomer to his movies; I think I only saw Sixteen Candles for the first time when I was nineteen, and I admit with some shame that I’ve never seen the entirety of Ferris Bueller’s Day Off. Yes, that’s something I definitely need to remedy. I am definitely a huge fan of both Sixteen Candles and Pretty in Pink. The first one especially captures that feeling that sometimes, when you’re a teenager, you feel like the entire world is against you. All you want is just one break, for someone to look at you and tell you that they care about how you’re doing. Kind of like that Belle & Sebastian song that was in Juno, “Expectations”. I wouldn’t be surprised if Stuart Murdoch has had some John Hughes marathons in his time.

But I do have some problems with John Hughes. These are mainly based on the fact that I don’t actually like The Breakfast Club all that much. Sure, the script has some prime moments, and he digs into some of the roots of teenage angst, the desperate need to win, to make the grade. The thing is, I don’t really fit into any of the categories in the film. Sure, I’m a nerd, but there’s a pretty drastic difference between girl nerds and boy nerds. I’m somewhat arty, but my weirdness doesn’t extend into the performance-art, almost Dada-esque strangeness of Allison. And I’m sure as hell not a jock, a princess, or a criminal.

And what the hell is he doing making over Ally Sheedy at the end? What kind of message does that send? Even though she was profoundly strange, it would have been cooler if Andy had actually seen past the bangs and the huge parka to the girl inside them. I kind of hope that Allison kept eating those Pixie Stix and Cap’n Crunch sandwiches even after she had her makeover…

By the way, to read a really superb tribute to John Hughes, check out this blog.

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