MY MOVIE SHELF: Sixteen Candles

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.

MY MOVIE SHELF: Mermaids

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: 199  Days to go: 203

Movie #178:  Mermaids

I really relate to Charlotte Flax (Winona Ryder). I was never as crazy as she is, but I get her. Those middle teen years are brutal. Charlotte lives with her mother Mrs. Flax (Cher) and little sister Kate (Christina Ricci, even more wee and adorable than she grew up to be), and every time Mrs. Flax feels restless or in need of a change, she packs up the family and moves to wherever her fancy strikes. It’s something she talks about with regard to her love for cars — the freedom to leave, to go where she wanted, to live life by her rules — that started back when she was Charlotte’s age. Charlotte hates everything about it.

Mermaids is such a special film because it explores the relationships of mothers and daughters in ways most movies don’t. It focuses on the relationship when it’s perhaps most volatile, but in a way that neither undermines nor champions either side. Charlotte and Mrs. Flax both have valid opinions and they both have unreasonable expectations. They both make smart decisions and they both make huge mistakes. It’s in this way that Mermaids is actually able to create a relationship filled with strife that still feels authentic and full of love.

Mrs. Flax is a woman who has been burned before. Charlotte’s father left her the day Charlotte was born and from that point on, it’s seemed, especially from Charlotte’s viewpoint, that Mrs. Flax has spurned any kind of commitment, from romance to full meals (Mrs. Flax only cooks hors d’oeuvres). Meanwhile, Charlotte longs for stability. She fantasizes about her father (a sort of “grass is greener” compulsion I understand quite well) and scorns her mother and desperately finds to find a place for herself that is the opposite of her mother’s life.

For Charlotte, this idyllic life is currently focused in Catholicism, despite her family being actually Jewish. And as someone who felt pretty lost herself around this age, I fully understand that need to embrace something sturdy and reliable, something that promises solace and answers. Of course, mostly Charlotte just manages to confuse herself and by the end of the film has found a new obsession.

Catholicism isn’t her only obsession in the film, though. The more fervent, all-consuming obsession of Charlotte’s is Joe (Jake Ryan himself, Michael Schoeffling) — convent caretaker and school bus driver extraordinaire. In direct conflict with her quest for religious purity, Joe has turned Charlotte into a raving horndog. Brilliantly, Mermaids addresses the sexuality of a teenage girl with frank sincerity. She is filled with lustful thoughts and desires. She is curious and naive and worldly, all at once. She is growing into womanhood in physical and emotional ways, and her sexuality isn’t left out of that journey. That’s what adolescence feels like, and not nearly enough movies (especially in 1990) spoke to those things in honest and straightforward and believable ways. I love Mermaids for that.

I also love how it deals with an idea I’ve thought quite a lot about: how as a teenager you push away from everything your parents stand for, and how your children will push away from you, and how the cycle will repeat itself into infinity. And yet, even as you lead your life in opposition to your parents, you still wind up becoming them. It’s a fascinating, disturbing, mind-boggling phenomenon, and it’s as common as dirt. Mermaids portrays all that really well too.

The other great thing about Mermaids is Bob Hoskins, who plays Lou. Bob Hoskins is not your typical romantic lead, and yet when Mrs. Flax tells Lou he’s a sexy guy, you believe her. He is clearly, openly into her. In a big way. And they have a ton of natural chemistry that sizzles on the screen. I love how accepting he is of her and how unafraid he is to call her on her bullshit. He’s simply perfect for her, and to be honest, when Hoskins died this year all I could think was how devastated Mrs. Flax must be. They make quite a couple.

Also, can someone hook me up with a Mrs. Flax as a Mermaid costume? I’d be really grateful.