Written & Directed by: John Hughes
Cast: Judd Nelson, Molly Ringwald, Paul Gleason, Emilio Estevez, Anthony Michael Hall, Ally Sheedy
Runtime: 97 min.
Rating: R
Trailer

For people who were in high school during the nineteen eighties, John Hughes’ The Breakfast Club has become both a highly cherished memory and a visual time capsule back to those glorious, colourful days of mischievousness and self-absorption. However, at the time of its release, its characters (the rebel John Bender, at least) and actors became small icons, spawning fans and imitators galore; and its themes (defiance in the face of authority as well as a kind of “brotherhood” of all misunderstood teens) truly reached the hearts and minds of those who were of the right age to connect with the what they saw on the screen. At least that’s what folks who went to high school in the eighties have told me.

Since I didn’t grow up in the eighties, The Breakfast Club doesn’t have that nostalgic effect on me. When I watched the film, I felt no connection with its characters or its message. I found it entertaining enough (quirky, well-written and surprisingly enthralling for a film set in one place and taking place over the course of about nine hours) but also manipulative, naive and self-defeating.

The Breakfast Club is an exploitation picture. Upon its release, it crudely and deliberately sought out and then burrowed into the thoughts and emotions of teenagers in order to make a few, quick bucks. Disguising itself as a serious exploration of the “problems” of its target age group, it instead tried to reinforce youthful, immature ideas that it knew teens would buy by the barrel. That it often failed to demonstrate what it was preaching just underlines the tension between what Hughes believed and what he was trying to sell. Some of these gems of knowledge are:

[a] that the lives of teens are made miserable by all adults (mostly parents and teachers)

…even though it’s the weirdo who isolates herself and comes to detention of her own will, the nerd who wants to kill himself for his own sense of despair at failing a class, the jock who can’t think for himself and has no intention of trying, the princess whose father showers her with anything she wants, and the rebel whose teachers are at their wits end trying to help him get an education and escape his abusive father….

[b] that “when you grow up, your heart dies,” as one character so intellectually puts it

…the exceptions being, of course, John Hughes, Judd Nelson, and most of the other people who worked on the film while in their twenties, thirties, or older…

[c] that everyone’s the same inside and all should be treated with equal respect

…except adults (who are just evil and have given up on life), high school janitors (who can and should be mocked and made fun of), and nerds (who should be the ones to do everyone’s homework)…

[d] that love knows no boundaries

…unless you’re the nerd, in which case you end the film with no romance and no possibility of romance, and yet completely satisfied that you came to detention and did everyone’s homework for them…

[e] that money’s not important

…unless, again, you’re John Hughes and are making a movie about why money doesn’t matter in order to make money…

Although I don’t think there’s anything wrong with intentionally tapping into these fears and feelings in order to make a financially successful film (because those dumb enough to fall for this, or any other kind of propaganda, should be allowed to do just that), it does make John Hughes less a filmmaker and more of a hack—one who has no problem with abandoning his message in order to provide a happier, more traditional, and more appealing ($) third act.

For example, the critical attitude toward seeing teens (and people, in general) as stereotypes, expressed at the beginning of the film, finds its reversal by the end, when every character (the princess, the jock, the criminal, the brain, and the weirdo) ends up being just that: a stereotype! Take the nerd, for example. Hughes tries to move past the stereotype by showing an emotionally troubled boy who cannot cope with not getting good grades. This is good. However, the class that the nerd fails is shop!

Or, take the weirdo and the jock. Hughes thinks he’s showing acceptance and tolerance by ending the film with the weirdo and the jock becoming a couple. However, the jock only falls for the weirdo after she’s been made over to look all pretty. He is shallow and dumb, and she really was weird until she put on her makeup!

Ultimately, The Breakfast Club doesn’t care that it’s peddling platitudes and affirming rebellious teen notions that it knows aren’t true. It also doesn’t care that eventually most of these go out the window as soon as they get in the way of a pleasant ending.

As a result, ultimately, I just don’t care for The Breakfast Club.

Pacze Moj
© Cinephile Magazine, 2006

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