“Ordinary people? I hate ’em!”
National treasure Harry Dean Stanton teaches Emilio Estevez the way of the car collector in a bizarre slice of ’80s cinema which became a justified cult classic.
It’s many things jammed together in one rip-snorting package.
You get a coming-of-age tale, a satire of the Reagan years, a buddy comedy in which one guy is old and cranky and the other is young and cranky, and an alien invasion movie.
A quirky in the extreme pic which can’t be replicated, it’s not quite like anything else out there.
And that’s a very good thing.
Talkin’ ’bout my generation.
John Hughes was a rarity — a writer/director who crafted films in which his teen characters felt real — and it’s a big part of why his films are as popular today as they were during the ’80s.
Everyone has a favorite, whether it’s Ferris or Sixteen Candles.
For me, it’s the tale of five strangers … picked to live in detention … to find out what happens … when people stop being polite … and start getting real.
It’s funny, it’s emotionally brutal, and its talented cast has just one request — don’t you forget about me.
Never did. Never will.