The Task: Watch and write about every movie on my shelf, in order (Blu-rays are sorted after DVDs), by June 10, 2015. Remaining movies: 186 Days to go: 128
Movie #252: Sixteen Candles
First off, the premise of Sixteen Candles, in which Sam (Molly Ringwald) discovers her whole family has forgotten her birthday, would never have happened to me, because the second my older sister scheduled her wedding for the day after, I’d have caused an uproar. Not that she couldn’t have her wedding the day after my birthday, of course, but people would hear about it enough that it couldn’t possibly escape their minds. So in a way, it’s Sam’s fault for not being more vocal about her birthday expectations right up front.
Still, the idea of your parents forgetting your birthday (particularly a milestone birthday, but any birthday will do), sounds like an absolute nightmare to me, and the fact that John Hughes used it as the subject for his first feature film (he’d wanted to do The Breakfast Club first because of its single, confined location, but this one was greenlit before that one) exemplifies his legendary status as a writer/director who really understood and “got” the 1980s teenage psyche. He knew what was important to them, he knew what they wanted, he related to them. And by extension, he related to the adolescent youth of the entire nation.
The Breakfast Club is more famous for having more important things to say, but Sixteen Candles is actually my favorite for the simple reason that I heart Jake Ryan (Michael Schoeffling). Jake is perfect and beautiful and a senior and … perfect. He’s everything you want in a crush on an upperclassman. And miraculously, he not only knows who Samantha is, but she intrigues him.
The movie is maybe not something one could get away with today — for the jarring gong musical cue every time Long Duk Dong (Gedde Watanabe) comes on screen, at the very least. It’s probably also not the best idea to talk about how you could violate your unconscious girlfriend ten different ways or have to explain why you won’t. In that way, it’s definitely a film of an entirely different era. But it still makes me laugh and it still makes me sad and it still makes me hope. Anthony Michael Hall as Farmer Ted is just about the most ridiculous and embarrassing nerd ruler to ever be both a character and a caricature on film, and yet Hall’s performance is not at all self-conscious or hesitant. He gives 100% to every dance move, every lifted eyebrow, and every smug come-on. Moreover, Molly Ringwald was the absolute embodiment of the high school girl who felt invisible and unlovable. (Honestly, I can’t even tell you the number of times I said “I’m going to kill myself” in the exact same sing-song voice she uses. It’s uncanny. It’s universal.) Her humiliation is palpable, her despair is both overexaggerated and all-encompassing. Her neurotic obsession with Jake is … pretty on point, actually. It’s just perfect.
And big props to all the actors playing Sam’s grandparents for really doing stellar supporting work, whether it’s by scolding Jake over the phone or by feeling up Sam’s newly sprouted boobs. Somehow only grandparents can be even more out of touch than your parents. Good on them for doing the awkwardness justice.
Additional fun facts:
Bridal veils, whether you’re hopped up on muscle relaxers or not, feel like a spider web on your face. You really do that blowing/spitting thing Ginny (Blanche Baker) does in order to get it away from your skin.
I never actually knew anyone in high school who either showered naked after gym, like Jake’s girlfriend, or wore headgear, like Joan Cusack’s nameless geek character. But we did go to a lot of school dances.
I was in love with Jake, yes, but I also thought John Cusack was cute as Bryce. Adorable nerds are kind of my sweet spot.
My birthday is this month. Nobody is ever allowed to forget it. Ever.
Viable Option 