Maybe it's all the fun I've been having at Plastic Passion, DJ Josh Burge's monthly 80s dance night at the Heidelberg, but I've suddenly found myself in an 80s nostalgia trip somehow. As someone who spent much of his time during the 80s wishing they would end, this is a little puzzling.

Pretty In Pink (1986): John Hughes' recent untimely passing occurred right as I was finishing a story inspired by 80s nostalgia, and if anything only increased the nostalgia value. I consider The Breakfast Club to be, in its way, one of the most overrated movies in cinema;it's not so much the relentless, talky teenage self-pity that turns me off as it is Ally Sheedy's disgraceful fate at the end. Was that supposed to be a joke? Ferris Bueller's Day Off, on the other hand, I'd adored ever since I first saw it in the theater, and it only gets better. Kevin Murphy's written elsewhere that the eponymous character could be an Aristophanes figure or Bugs Bunny, and I think that's behind why I love it so much. Even though he didn't actually direct it (and who'll remember poor Howard Deutch's name when discussing the 80s?), Pretty In Pink might actually be his most genuinely affecting movie, dealing as it does with the intersection of adolescence and class, even if the manner's sometimes cartoonishly extreme. I'd never actually seen it until about ten years ago, and didn't for whatever reason appreciate it (probably something to do with my continued relief, in 1997, that the 80s were still over), This time around, it was pretty good. Andi (Molly Ringwald), a poor teenager, falls for Blane (Andrew McCarthy), a rich teenager, to the horror of her best friend and secret admirer Duckie (Jon Cryer). It's all very believable and compelling, although Cryer can be a bit much at times (Two And A Half Men is in many ways an awful show, but his chemistry with Charlie Sheen is strangely reassuring). The plot moves in much the way one would expect, but sometimes in unusual, surprising ways. Though the conflict is cartoonish, none of the characters are, not even the egregious Steff, Blane's slimy "richie" pal played with industrial-strength smarm by James Spader. It's nice to see a bit of genuine nonconformity in an 80s movie that isn't played for laughs--Andi and Duckie are the movie's heart, with able support and advice from a couple of older, wiser characters: Andi's record store boss (Annie Potts), and her mournful, rumpled old father (Harry Dean Stanton, whose presence in one of the ultimate 80s flicks embodies, for me, a majestic middle finger to "the 80s"--hurray!). Though the ending may seem a little pat and cliched for some viewers, the fact that these questions were raised or explored at all is a welcome reminder of the decade's reality.

The Lost Boys (1987): Much less so, to say the least, is perhaps one of the most representative works of one of the most awful big-budget directors that this country's ever... "produced" is a polite word. I stayed away from this one forever, especially after I heard that Kathryn Bigelow's Near Dark of the same year was much better. Vampires, to me, represent a mix of an unbridled, wholly selfish will to power and greed with a certain aesthetic snobbery. Fascism and aristocracy, essentially, and if you think that's cool, have at it. Of course, one might suggest this nature to be perfectly suited to cinematic treatment in the 80s, especially from the fetishistic director who later "gave"--again, a polite word--us Batman and Robin (I don't remember being able to watch it all the way through). The Coreys are in it, too. Lucy (a luminous Dianne Wiest, easily the best--and sexiest--figure in the film) and her sons Mike (Jason Patric) and Sam (Corey Haim) move to a sinister beach town in California which is being terrorized by a gang of biker vampires led by Kiefer Sutherland. Sam eventually enlists the aid of a couple of comic rats (including Corey Feldman) to defeat the forces of evil and rescue Mike and his new girlfriend (Jami Gertz; as with Sarah Jessica Parker, Square Pegs was the last time she wasn't annoying in anything) from the fate of the undead. It's terrible but at least it's mildly entertaining (unlike Lifeforce, on which see here). Edward Herrmann (looking rather similar to John Hughes, strangely enough) shows up as Lucy's potential love interest, and some of the special effects aren't bad. The pre-teen son of my housemate (who, in the grand tradition of my housemates creepily having their family members come to stay for extended periods, has been at the house for a couple of months; here's hoping he leaves once school starts, if he's even going) wandered in a few times and asked me what I was watching. As he looks slightly like Corey Haim if you toasted him lightly in the oven for a few minutes, I did get a few laughs out of the whole thing.

"The Rambo Experience" (1982-85): Due to the relentless--indeed Rambo-like--peer pressure from BHF chums and work colleagues, I finally chose to accept my destiny as a child of the 80s and see yet another of the decade's most emblematic films. Rambo: First Blood Part II (1985) was one of the decade's most influential and symptomatic works of art, and as a nascent liberal growing up at that time I loathed what it had wrought and avoided it like the plague. Now, after the admittedly safe distance of twenty-odd years, I find they're rather enjoyable. First Blood, of course, is actually a genuinely decent movie, based on David Morrell's novel of a troubled Vietnam vet who runs into hassle while drifting through a small town in the Pacific Northwest. The "troubled Vietnam vet" had been a staple of low-budget exploitation movies during the previous decade, but First Blood was pretty mcuh the first time they were treated--by and large--sympathetically. John Rambo (Sylvester Stallone) comes into town looking for an old combat buddy, and the local sherriff (Brian Dennehy) doesn't like his looks. A few incidents snowball into a regionwide hunt for Rambo, whose skills in combat and survival effectively hamstring the National Guard pursuit. Aiding and (in my opinion) hampering the latter is Col. Trautmann (Richard Crenna), Rambo's former commanding officer and without question the most entertaining character in these movies. Interestingly, Trautmann was (I'm told) originally portrayed as the villain in Morrell's novel (superbly analyzed in Susan Faludi's still relevant 1999 Stiffed), and I thought I caught an echo if that in the film: he more or less seems to get off scot-free while this "killing machine" that he's created lumbers around the woods and causes havoc. Trautmann's "protesting too much" is, for me, the highlight of both Rambo movies, and can form an enjoyable party game if you're so inclined. Every fifteen minutes or so, some cast member will suggest yet another ineffective measure to stop Rambo (or, in the second movie, another possible obstacle he'll have to face), and Trautmann launches into this earnest disquisition on his "creation's" unstoppable nature, e.g. "You're sending two hundred men (or however many it was) against Rambo? Well, sherriff, you'd better have a good supply of body bags." This happens several times (not enough) during First Blood, and I daresay you can tell that Brian Dennehy and Bill McKinney might have been getting a little sick of it.* It's also great fun to watch frequent beatings administered to David Caruso. Rambo: First Blood Part II is wholly ridiculous, but also a lot more fun than I expected. Doing hard labor for his actions in First Blood, Rambo gets a visit from Trautmann, who wants him to infiltrate a camp in Southeast Asia still holding American MIAs. After being debriefed by the sleazy Murdoch (Charles Napier), Rambo's parachuted into enemy territory, is captured, escapes, and then proceeds to go on the most cartoonish killing spree I've ever seen. Maybe it's that the last half-hour or so pretty much influenced all the violence-porn of the present day, but it somehow felt familiar and almost cozy to me. When Weird Al Yankovic parodied Rambo's antics in UHF, I thought he was going over the top. Wrong. The "exploding guy" scene is rendered almost literally. Make sure to watch for Rambo's explanation of what "expendable" means (a great comic highlight) and the sight of Rambo (piloting a captured Russian chopper--oh, he's fighting the Russkies, too) blowing up nearly every single hut in the enemy village. I have yet to see Rambo 3, where Rambo helps out a captured Trautmann and the mujahedin (dedicated, apparently, to the "freedom-loving people of Afghanistan"). Whew!

*An edited collection of our attempts at work: "You think that's gonna stop Rambo? Man, he's hungry, and he's ready for it. He's hungry for pizza, sherriff. He's ready for a pizza party. He'll turn you inside out, rip the skin off your face and twirl it around in the air, and then he'll have his pizza party. With your face. And he's racist."