Films, from time to time, can transcend the boundaries of mere entertainment. On rare occasion, (and generally in retrospect), they can form a kind of time capsule, existing as cultural snapshots or archives of a time and place in history.
Regardless of nationality, our collective impression and understanding of an era is coloured by our knowledge of film. When I think of the 60s, I can't help but imagine London and the desolate landscape and apathy of Michelangelo Antonioni's Blow-Up. Similarly, when I think of the 70s I imagine the New York City of Midnight Cowboy (1969) and Taxi Driver (1976), with its violence and abject poverty. The 80s, conversely, are dominated by suburbia and the cliques and class systems of the American teen movie.
We didn't spend the 80s cowering in fear from the red menace or the threat of imminent thermonuclear Armageddon. For most of us, the 80s were a time of rampant consumerism. In the west, the post war generation were buying their own homes and raising their children in a time of relative prosperity. And that meant more junk food, more toys, more music and more movies available than ever before in history. The drama in our lives focused primarily on relationships and the family unit. The desire to fit in, fall in love, be popular. This mid 80s milieu was never more prevalent than in the films of writer/director John Hughes. The unrealistic nature and fantastical elements of his films fail to detract from the fact that it is almost impossible to think of the 80s and not think of a song or scene or character from one of his movies.
The Breakfast Club is the ultimate representation of the 80s cultural snapshot. In it, Hughes presents us with a white, middle class version of diversity. Each character portrays one of five stereotypes - the jock, the bad boy, the princess, the weirdo and the geek. Their problems are our problems - from overbearing parents with high expectations, to absent parents, to negligent and abusive parents, teens the world over could see themselves on screen (albeit as attractive actors in their mid-twenties). Whether we grew up in Illinois or Wangaratta, we understood what it was to be left out, ignored, unloved, picked on. We wrongly assumed those different from us, those higher in the class system, were happy. In The Breakfast Club, Hughes presented us with someone for each and every one of us to relate to. Hence, our 80s experience was the John Hughes experience, and our memories of a time and place forever sublimated by an American, whitewashed, homogeneous John Hughes universe.
On a totally unrelated note, here is another Read-Along mock-up, based on a movie you may have heard of before:
To see more Read-Along Records without the pointless theorising, click on the READ-ALONG tab at the top of the page.
