SECRECY=SECURITY=VICTORY?: a review of "Snowden"

"SNOWDEN"
Based upon The Snowden Files by Luke Harding
Based upon Time Of The Octopus by Anatoly Kucherena
Screenplay Written by Kieran Fitzgerald & Oliver Stone
Directed by Oliver Stone
*** (three stars)
RATED R

I suppose that I have always felt that the public and media's perception of Edward Snowden, the computer professional who leaked crucial and classified information from the NSA to The Guardian and is currently living in exile in Moscow, has been more than a little simplistic and sadly inherent of our dangerously "either/or" responses to superlatively gray moral areas. I have never felt it enough to label the man as either being a "hero" or "traitor" to the United States Of America but for that matter, I have, and still remain, somewhat indifferent to him because his actions, frankly, didn't reveal any information that I really feel that we, as a nation, should have already known.

Now that is not to say that I am especially politically savvy. I really am not. But, once The Patriot Act was enacted in 2001 by President George W. Bush, I just knew back then that the floodgates against our civil liberties were doomed and entirely in the supposed name of ensuring the security of the country. To say that I am skeptical of the government's intentions towards its citizens woud be an understatement and the fact that we have a constitutional right to protest against the government would be an even greater understatement at that. In fact, as my Father once expressed to me, "Of course, we're being spied upon! We've been spied on since President Hoover!"

With all of that being said, my curiosity was indeed piqued when it was announced that none other than Oliver Stone would tackle this subject for a new film. Despite the fact that Stone's filmography as of recent years has been less than stellar, almost existing as mere snacks compared with the sumptuous five course cinematic meals of his most celebrated and controversial works from "Platoon" (1986), "Wall Street" (1987), "Born On The Fourth Of July" (1989), "The Doors" (1991) and "Natural Born Killers" (1994) among so many others, I would be hard pressed to think of another filmmaker who seems to be a perfect fit for such inherently difficult subject matter,from concepts of national security,the price paid for our collective freedoms as well as the figure of Edward Snowden himself.

With "Snowden," Oliver Stone once again does not return to his former glories but the film overall is not a let down either. It is a solid film, one that functions quite well as a slow burn of an espionage thriller but one that is filled with provocative themes to discuss, debate and digest, even while the titular subject comes off more a a symbol rather than a complex human being.  

"Snowden" stars Joseph Gordon-Levitt as Edward Snowden in a strong performance that is eerily uncanny to the real world individual. Oliver Stone traces Snowden's life from his failed attempt in the Army Reserve due to shin splints and his subsequent employment for the CIA and as a contractor for the United States government.

Through his work, we witness his mounting paranoia and crisis of conscience as he discovers the extents to which the government has invaded the private lives of innocent United States citizens under the pretense of maintaining national security against acts of terrorism, to finally his actions which led him to copy and release classified information which revealed many global surveillance programs run by the NSA and with the cooperation of telecommunications companies and European governments.

Snowden's journey is chronicled alternately through the respective prisms of a clandestine interview in a Chinese hotel with documentarian Laura Poitras (Melissa Leo) and Guardian journalists Glenn Greenwald (Zachary Quinto) and Ewan MacAskill (Tom Wilkinson) as well as his precarious romance with acrobat/blogger/aspiring photographer Lindsey Mills (Shailene Woodley).

As previously stated, Oliver Stone's "Snowden" is not a great film, the kind of fire and brimstone, rattle-the-cages effort that we typically associate with this firebrand filmmaker. However, it is a good film, beautifully lensed by Cinematographer Anthony Dod Mantle and filled with exceedingly strong performances from Gordon-Levitt, the excellent Rhys Ifans as Snowden's mentor/Father figure Corbin O'Brian, a dialed down Nicolas Cage and also the continuously surprising Shailene Woodley (who does indeed does the most she can in a somewhat one dimensional role).

Whee the film faltered for me was in its shallow depiction of its titular figure which made the film shockingly and unfortunately, more simplistic as a character study as Stone paints Edward Snowden as being somewhat of the last America Boy Scout with nothing less than a level of hero worship. In some ways, Stone's portrayal, despite the strength of Joseph Gordon-Levitt's performance, is one that essentially becomes equal to the so-called character study a la sheer right -wing propaganda as seen in Clint Eastwood's powerfully effective but dangerously irresponsible "American Sniper" (2014).

In Stone's cinematic eyes, he has envisioned Edward Snowden as an undeniable intellectual genius (and somewhat robotic) yet he is also the most earnest, sincerest of patriots, one who initially leaned politically to the right but whose patriotism never wavered, even while questioning the government. His actions were not only heroic but entirely selfless--even to the point of sacrificing his own health (as he was prone to epileptic seizures and apparently ceased taking his medications to ensure his mind worked at its sharpest) in order for the truth to be fully revealed. Certainly, the real Edward Snowden is more complicated than that! For that matter, and for goodness sakes, any of you reading this posting out there are more complicated than that!

Now, certainly Oliver Stone quite possibly sees a bit of a kindred spirit in Edward Snowden within himself as based upon his past films, especially the brilliant, freight train fever dream fury of his masterful "JFK" (1993) for which he was dragged over the hot coals due to the myriad of conspiracy theories and supposed factual errors contained within that film.

But, amidst the fervor of that whole controversy, I still strongly feel that the main argument of that film was fully lost on its critics. That all Oliver Stone was essentially saying was that he did not believe in the findings of the Warren Commission and therefore, believes that our government lied to him about President John F. Kennedy's assassination and furthermore, that we as citizens have the right and responsibility to question our highest authorities and speak truth to power in pursuit of the greater truth. That's it and that all. Yet, what did strike me about that time as I pondered that film was perhaps it is easier for a wide American public to try to believe in something as preposterously impossible as a "magic bullet," for instance than it is to believe in the unfathomable truth that your very government is secretly and in ways, more than openly conspiring against its citizens--even the President of the United States.

And it is on that level where "Snowden" succeeds strongly as the film works as a 21st century companion piece to "JFK" as it is a film that basically asks the very same questions and houses the same fears. With "Snowden," Oliver Stone is again asking us to ponder seriously what is the price of freedom? How much of ourselves are we willing to casually hand over with false promises of obtaining greater security? What does it mean to be free and if we even have to ask those questions are we, and have we ever been free in the first place? Questions that are extremely more prevalent than ever with our current nightmare election cycle during which logic, reason and facts has no value when compared to the cult of personality.

Now, the cinematic approach Oliver Stone utilizes as a filmmaker continues in his current style, which is much less incendiary as his classic films and much more cerebral and subdued--a tactic that has made his films as of late more than a bit underwhelming--although I do still have high marks for "W." (2008), Stone exploration of President George W. Bush. Yes, I do prefer Stone's hallucinogenic, operatic intensity that seemed to reach outwards from the silver screen and grab you with two fists and white knuckles--even for his more interior films like "Talk Radio" (1988). But, such as it is, Stone is not that filmmaker anymore, for better or for worse, depending upon whom you would ask.

With regards to "Snowden," Stone has crafted a feature that functions more like a 1970's conspiracy/espionage thriller like something in the vein of Francis Ford Coppola's "The Conversation" (1974) and Stone does indeed generate a mounting Orwellian paranoia confidently. Also, Stone has made a strong cautionary tale a la David Fincher's "The Social Network" (2010) as "Snowden" contains its own provocative themes regarding the gradual loss of our collective humanity due to the rise of our continuously enveloping technology.

And yet, when it was all said and done, once "Snowden" concluded, I guess I still found my sense of indifference towards the man had unwavered. Yet, for the dark realities that we all now know about (and frankly, we should have all seen coming rapidly), I fear that our collective sense of complacency and even apathy will land us into a world that we never knew could befall upon us. Because of that, the need to question, to provoke and feverishly demand answers from our highest authorities has become more paramount with each passing year.

And to that end, Oliver Stone's "Snowden" speaks to that concept powerfully.

GOOD KID MAD CITY: a review of "Kicks"

"KICKS"
Screenplay Written by Justin Tipping & Joshua Beirne-Golden
Directed by Justin Tipping
**** (four stars)
RATED R

When I was perhaps 10 years old, my bicycle was stolen.

Growing up on the southwest side of Chicago during the 1970's/1980's felt to be...well..a normal upbringing. I was, more or less, able to go where I pleased without fear. My friends and I could roam the neighborhood from day until long past the streetlights illuminated my surroundings. By my teenage years, I often walked or rode my bike with headphones strapped to my ears without a care in the world.

Certainly, and knowing fully well that this was indeed Chicago, I did have to have a set of street smart wits about myself. I instinctively knew the locations to where I should not tread or how far I could or should actually venture from home. I knew the neighbors whom I could trust if my parents were not immediately available. Yet, even so, I was not immune to any sinister elements. There were older kids who bullied my friends and I once in a great while. And at some points, all of us, myself included, became involved in some sort of neighborhood fight. While gangs like The Disciples and The Blackstone Rangers were heard of, and even hushed about between friends, I can honestly say that I never saw any gang activity. But, the knowledge of their existence did inform me to look over my shoulder now and then and I seemed to develop an innate ability to know just how to avoid any and all hot spots, for if there was going to be any trouble, I wanted to be as far away from it as possible. Yet, as it happens sometimes, trouble found me.

Behind my house, there was a long alleyway where my friends and I would play every day and at the end of the block, there sat a vacant lot where we would play variations of baseball and kickball, ride skateboards and bikes, or do absolutely nothing at all for the entire day. One day, as we rode our bikes around and around, we noticed a small group of bigger, tougher boys who were unfamiliar to us riding into our lot. Taking note, we covertly attempted to quietly leave the vacant lot. I was last in line and before I knew it, one of the boys grabbed the rear handle on my bicycle, punched me in the side, knocking from my bike onto the pavement and rode away with my bike.

All of this happened in a matter of seconds and soon my friends returned to find me shell shocked on the ground. They led me back home where I told my parents what had happened. While my Mother phoned the police, my Father had other ideas. Grabbing not one but two Louisville Slugger baseball bats from the basement, he sternly said to me, "Let's go!" and off we went into the car on the hunt for the boys who stole my bicycle. I have no memory of how long we were gone but I can easily remember the heat from my Father's rage radiating from him as he was ready to bash in some heads. Me, on the other hand, was just a scared kid who already wanted to forget that anything had happened. We never found the boys. We never even found the bicycle, even after making an official report to the police. And again, I just wanted to forget all about it, as I just felt so weak and small, despite the heft of my size, and most of all ashamed that I was unable to defend and protect myself in front of my friends, my family or just for myself.

Those memories returned to me as I watched "Kicks," the stunning, harrowing debut feature film from Director Justin Tipping that explored and combined, to an often hallucinogenic yet powerfully primal degree, the coming-of-age film, an urban thriller, a dark fable, the cosmic, the surreal and the ruthlessly raw. Tipping provided an urgent sense of cinematic confidence that is rare for a first feature, one that pinned me to my seat in often sobering degrees due to its social-political aesthetic that was simultaneously dreamlike yet journalistic. Again, I urge you to stretch outside of your movie going comfort zones and seek out this small, independent film that will indeed provide you with a gut punch to send you reeling in more ways than one.

Set in urban California, "Kicks" stars the intensely charismatic and reticent Jahking Guillory as Brandon, a 15-year-old who announces to us within his subdued narration that "Even in dreams, I dream that I am being chased." In his environment, Brandon is indeed an outcast. With his long, flowing curls, and small stature, the boy carries an unintentionally androgynous appearance. He is quiet, unathletic, unpopular, nearly invisible to girls and a would be target for more dangerous types if not for the fact that he is quick on his feet, albeit in a pair of tennis shoes nearing disintegration. Despite having two best friends in the muscular, athletic, popular with the ladies Rico (Christopher Meyer) and the mouthy, would-be rapper Albert (Christopher Jordan Wallace-son of the late Notorious B.I.G.), Brandon is often teased, hazed and constantly left behind to his thoughts, often occupied by the presence of a lonely astronaut floating away in the quiet of the very space Brandon wishes to escape to.

Desiring, something, anything to assist his acceptance among his peers, Brandon decides to purchase a pair of vintage Air Jordans. Collecting spare change around his home plus birthday gift money and earning funds some selling candy bars on the street, Brandon earns the money for the shoes but is discouraged that he is nowhere near the full retail price. While despondently walking home, Brandon is accosted by a neighborhood charlatan selling stolen goods from his van--including the very coveted pair of red and black Air Jordans, which he is then able to purchase.

Finally feeling a sense of pride, Brandon, now adorned with the shoes struts into  his surroundings with a newfound confidence with his friends as well as with girls. Yet, on his way home, on the very first day of wearing his new shoes, Brandon is surrounded and beaten to the ground by a group of older, tougher, meaner and armed boys led by Flaco (Kofi Siriboe), who ultimately steal his shoes.

Consumed with revenge, Brandon plots to track down Flaco and regain his shoes at any and all costs.

Justin Tipping's "Kicks" is as impressive and remarkable a debut feature as I have ever seen as the film greatly succeeds via a variety of elements from the double meaning of the film's ironically laced title, to its multi-layered moods and textures, the downright stunning, dreamlike slow-motion cinematography by Michael Ragen, Composer Brian Reitzell's evocative score and the first rate performance by young Jahking Guillory who conveys a world of emotions while armed with scant dialogue and riveting subtlety.

As Brandon, Guillory perfectly conveys the desperate inner world of a good kid trapped within an environment he never made who only wishes to fit in and is soon consumed by a blind rage and relentless tunnel vision yet without possessing any foresight to the larger consequences of his actions and how they will play out for his friends, enemies and his community at large.

Utilizing the fetishization of shoe culture as a metaphorical symbol of status, pride and manhood, "Kicks" explores the continuing desolation of the 21st century African-American communities within the inner cities of this nation. Tipping, without any sense of hyperbole but with a more journalistic, matter-of-fact directorial eye, presents us with an urban nightmare, eons away from the world I grew up in. Returning to the story of my stolen bicycle, I had my Father present to aid me (although the consequences if we had caught up to those boys would have been devastating to say the least). Furthermore, regarding the ones to stole my bike, I was only the recipient of a strong, surprising gut punch and not on the receiving end of a bullet.

Within "Kicks," adults of any positive influence are never seen and any conceivable opportunities to better oneself are even less so. This is a world where schools are an afterthought, job opportunities are non-existent, and drugs, alcohol, guns and violence rampantly permeate the neighborhoods. Every single character within the film addresses each other with all manner of racial epithets and derogatory language plus taunts, threats, humiliations augmented by sudden and surprising acts of explosive violence. And even when Brandon is beaten down and his shoes are stolen, his attack is filmed and later uploaded to You Tube. In a world such as this one, where hopelessness is abound, what is there left to do but to feed off of each other? "Kicks" presents us with the brutal realities that occur when living in an unforgiving landscape and people are forced to endure a merciless, Darwinian existence. Tipping nails the numbing inhumanity and devaluation and desensitization of life profoundly, therefore cementing the film's overall sense of humanity with a bubbling, burning rage.

Yes, the activities we see throughout the film are entirely self-destructive but "Kicks" is largely a story of survival within the death and dying of inner city African-American communities, making Tipping's film the next piece of a cinematic social-political journalistic think piece chronicling the life and times of our nation's Black neighborhoods as witnessed in films like The Hughes Brothers' "Menace II Society" (1993), John Singleton's "Boyz N The Hood" (1991), Ryan Coogler's "Fruitvale Station" (2013) and especially several "joints" of Spike Lee's filmography, including "Crooklyn" (1994), "Clockers" (1995), "Red Hook Summer" (2012) and "Chi-Raq" (2015). 

Furthermore, "Kicks" feels to be the perfect film to arrive in the still vibrant and righteously essential "Black Lives Matter" movement for as we regard Brendan and his environment, if one does not feel empathy, anger and shame for allowing American citizens to exist in such a cauldron in what is supposed to be the greatest country on the planet, then, we as a full American culture need to perform some deep cleansing and serious re-evaluation of our history and levels of intolerance and acceptance or lack thereof. The sights of such callous behavior and disregard for human life (a shot of an infant laying upon a bed just within reach of a loaded gun, for instance) with an endless cycle of abuse, degradation, despair, and of course verbal and physical violence should be more than enough to jolt viewers out of any self-induced stupor regarding our society and national community and Justin Tipping's "Kicks" seethes with world weary indignation. No wonder Brandon wishes he could be lost in space.

On a more individual and therefore existential level, "Kicks" utilizes the fetishization of shoe culture to represent a metaphorical symbol of status and manhood, specifically Black manhood in the ghetto. What does it mean to be a man in this fight or flight environment? For Brandon, who is constantly caught in the throes of peer pressure and the standard bouts of male bonding/hazing by his friends, the humiliation of having his shoes stolen combined with any sense of athletic/sexual inadequacy he feels inwardly provides the seriously misguided fuel for his revenge mission. Yet, throughout the film, Brandon is exposed to a full range of male behavior he feels forced to cloak himself within in order to retain his shoes. His pursuit of Flaco is utterly foolish yet surprisingly fearless as his every move is designed to prove to himself, plus his friends, his out-of-prison O.G. Uncle Marlon (an excellent Mahershala Ali) and community, that he is not weak or a pushover but on the contrary, one who has been decidedly underestimated. Yet, what he does not seem to realize that in this world, being a an will not end with the possible retrieval of his shoes. His battle will only continue as Flaco retaliates, potentially leaving either one or both of them dead.

And even so, the character of Flaco is far from existing as a one note villain as Tipping ensures that we gather an insight into his interior life. For you see, Flaco is a Father to a small son, and devotedly so, making the spoils of his thefts not only gifts to his child, they are symbols of his manhood as being able to provide for his family. If Brandon becomes successful in stealing his shoes back from Flaco, what does it mean to be a man in front of his own son who might witness his defeat, especially from someone who is physically smaller?

The war between Brandon and Flaco as presented in "Kicks" is concerned about much, much more than a pair of shoes and in turn, so is Tipping's briskly paced, visually striking, emotionally sobering film as a whole. Once again, I turn to you to stretch a bit regarding your movie viewing and just give some support to a motion picture that is riveting, exceedingly well acted, written and filmed and possesses an urgent voice and story of fierce originality and presentation.

Justin Tipping's "Kicks" is one of the best films that I have seen in 2016.

MY FAVORITE "FILM" OF THE SUMMER: THE SAVAGE CINEMA TRIBUTE TO CAMERON CROWE'S "ROADIES"

"ROADIES"
Executive Producers J.J. Abrams, Winnie Holtzman and Cameron Crowe
Created by Cameron Crowe
10 episodes
June 26, 2016-August 28, 2016

Dear readers, it was a terrible movie season this summer. Truly terrible. Aside from one documentary, Thorsten Schuette's "Eat That Question: Frank Zappa In His Own Words" and one indie comedy/drama in Mike Birbiglia's "Don't Think Twice," the summer of 2016 delivered one of the weakest times at the movies in recent memory. But truth be told, this entire year so far has not been one to write home about regardless of any shattered box office records.

What we are seeing at this time is everything that I have been writing about over and again upon this site and that is precisely the preponderance of all things related to big budget sequels, prequels, remakes, reboot, re-imaginings, franchises and anything that potentially possesses a built in audience from comic book characters to toys and video games and all at the expense of not only just creating films with honest to goodness characters and stories but films that are indeed wholly original or ones that represents a filmmaker's personal point of view with how they view the world in which we co-exist.

As weary as I get with the assembly line nature of these massive budgeted films, I do still take my hard earned money to see them and yes, for some, I do remain a fan. When the films are good, as with the ones that have been coming out of the Marvel Comics arena or what J.J. Abrams achieved with "Star Wars: The Force Awakens" (2015), the results can often be as exhilarating as ever. but, those films typically are not made to that high standard and more often than not, are simply designed to just take the money quickly and run, films that are completely disposable and guaranteeing sequels that no one but the Hollywood bean counters asked for.

I have also and often lamented the fact that some of my most favorite filmmakers seem to be having more difficulties than ever with getting their movies made from the likes of Terry Gilliam and Spike Lee, for instance, making the positions of other idiosyncratic filmmakers like Steven Spielberg, Martin Scorsese, Woody Allen and Wes Anderson as anomalies. For Cameron Crowe, in many ways, his films have never been easy ones to necessarily classify as they do tend to stretch themselves between genres, but at least, there was a climate within Hollywood that allowed films like "Say Anything..." (1989), "Singles" (1992), "Jerry Maguire" (1996) and even "Almost Famous" (2000) to get made in the first place. Nowadays, as Crowe himself has expressed in interviews, a film like "Almost Famous" would never be able to find itself made within this current cinematic climate that stresses box office over originality and personal statements more than ever.

Crowe has indeed had a tough go at it in recent years, especially with his long gestating and critically crucified "Aloha" (2015) existing as his latest Hollywood wound. But, undeterred and forever intrepid, he carried onwards to the medium that may be more suitable for his specific storytelling needs, the world of cable television, where he teamed up with none other than J.J. Abrams and "My So Called Life" creator/writer Winnie Holzman to bring his first television series "Roadies" to vibrant, vivacious life this summer.

"Roadies" takes the audience on the cross country adventures of the behind the scenes road crew for the fictional arena rock group The Staton-House Band, currently embarked upon their "Capture The Flag" tour in promotion of their latest album "Consider The Stars." Under the leadership of Tour Manager Bill Hanson (Luke Wilson) and Production Manager Shelli Anderson (Carla Gugino), the roadies, which include, the brittle and caustic soundboard operator Donna Mancini (Keisha Castle-Hughes), the insecure and unkempt bass guitar tech Milo (Peter Cambor), gruff tour bus driver Gooch (Luis Guzman), the legendary Phil, the beloved King of The Roadies (Ron White), the self-described master of "guitars, people and coffee--in that order," Wes Mason (Colson Baker a.k.a. Machine Gun Kelly) and finally, his twin sister, the self-conscious yet fearless skateboarding lighting rigger and hopeful photographer/filmmaker Kelly Ann Mason (the wonderful Imogen Poots) among others.

When The Staton-House Band's record label brings in a financial adviser to crunch the numbers of the tour in the person of Reg Whitehead (Rafe Spall), his constant presence represents yet another threat to the purity of the music within an ever changing industry that rapidly reduces art to product while also consistently devaluing the very product they wish to sell--a conceit that troubles Kelly Ann greatly.

Over the course of 10 episodes, we follow the crew that follows the band from city to city with all manner of experiences along the way from hysterical to tender, triumphant to tragic, the romantic and ribald to the blissfully bittersweet all the while becoming deeply involved with the familial bonds between them, not forged through blood but through the shared love of music.

For me, Cameron Crowe's "Roadies" was the very best "feature film" I saw this entire summer--that is, if you thought of this series as being a 10 hour film divided into one hour installments each week. I felt "Roadies" represented Crowe's artistic vision at its peak, easily matching the specific heights when he embarked upon the amazing run that produced "Jerry Maguire," "Almost Famous" and "Vanilla Sky" (2001). 

The television format served Crowe beautifully and brilliantly, as the extended time frame allowed him to delve into his characters, their respective stories, sub plots and sub-sub plots with aplomb and a level of ingenuity that one two-hour feature film may not be able to house as strongly. It was a show that set the stage, so to speak, wonderfully as a companion piece to "Almost Famous," most certainly, in its premiere. But soon, "Roadies" demonstrated how it was a series that would continuously reveal itself, characters and therefore, its soul over time, resulting in a conclusion that was enormously effective and undeniably emotional as my heart simply pounded urgently and achingly and this world brought me to my feet and reduced me to tears--often at the very same time.  

"Roadies" created a richly designed and staggeringly detailed multi-layered universe filled with running jokes and all manner of visual and conceptual accouterments that ensured the world created within "Roadies" was as complete as possible...a world that even extended itself outside into the real world (or the real world as presented on-line).

We were given wonderfully detailed recurring characters like Natalie Shin, the 21st century "band-aid"/stalker (as warmly portrayed by Jacqueline Byers), as well as Staton-House Band superfan Mike Finger (an engaging Ely Henry), creator of the fansite "The Blue and the Black" (incidentally a website fully created in the real world complete with band memorabilia, full discography, concert and album reviews, fan art as well as a link to the 'official' SHB website). We were given an insight into road superstitions and their supposed cures, most specifically introduced in episode 4 entitled "The City Whose Name Must Not Be Spoken," yet the aftershocks continue to play out for the remainder of the series. We were even given a show within the show entitled "Dead Sex," a fictional cable series starring David Spade (and apparently now in its third season), a series all of the characters are obsessed with.  

But then, there was, of course, the music, and as always, Cameron Crowe showcased his impeccable taste with a lovingly curated soundtrack which ran wall-to-wall for each episode (and just so you are all aware, each episode's track list can be found on the official Showtime site as well as Crowe's website "The Uncool")! Furthermore, each episode of "Roadies" featured a "Song Of The Day" selection. And even moreso, we were given the running joke of The Staton-House Band being unable to keep a consistent opening act for the longevity of the tour, a tactic that allowed the series to not only showcase artists like Reignwolf, Lucius, Lindsey Buckingham, The Head and The Heart, Halsey plus others, it served as a means to allow the characters and the viewers at home to luxuriate in the act of listening to music!!

This was just one of the elements that flew directly into the center of my wheelhouse as I feel that for all of the music we are inundated with in society (on the radio, television, movies, clubs, ringtones, etc...), the act of just listening feels like an archaic act. It is as if the Crowe and his show are arguing that the entire listening experience has been lost and that people aren't connecting to music as people once did in the past as music has become nothing more than a fashion accessory. In fact, one character expresses in the series that at concerts, even applause is completely different because in one of everyone's hands sits a smartphone. Where is the space and the place where the music is able to flow so freely that it could possibly change someone's life? "Roadies" celebrates the people, all of whom whose lives have been changed by some song in their past, some song that has indeed led them to their chosen profession, a life on the road and ultimately to each other, this rag-tag rock and roll road warrior family.

And even then, there was the truly genius move on Crowe's part to not ever hear a Staton-House Band song or to ever see the band perform even once within the show, even though the songs, especially the track "Janine," are weaved into, and at times, propel the full 10 episode narrative. In doing so, Crowe was wise enough to leave what "Janine" sounded like to the imaginations of each and every viewer instead of running the risk of composing a real song that just may not fly, like the completely underwhelming symphony that concludes Stephen Herek's "Mr. Holland's Opus" (1995). Besides, this is yet another aspect which runs with the overall theme of the series about people connecting to the music and what that experience means rather than just hearing the song itself. 

Even with all of these elements that I loved so very much, the critical response to "Roadies," however, was mixed at best with many reviews being widely negative and nearly all housing criticisms that the show was too shallow, to uninformative about the life of roadies, and shockingly, a series that possessed underdeveloped characters and a condescending tone that was insufferable. For some of those criticism, I can easily bat them away, especially the ones that bemoaned any sense of informativeness "Roadies" could have offered or presented about the life and occupation of a roadie. To that, I say this:  "Roadies" is not a documentary. Case closed.

Yet, for the remainder of the criticisms...I just do not know and truthfully, I really don't get it. Its strange but I feel that here is where the cable television format has also succumbed to its own trappings, ones that make a creative figure like Cameron Crowe a difficult fit.

We can easily see how the motion picture industry is currently caught at a crossroads and is creatively stagnated because of it as the Hollywood execs do not seem remotely interested in making films about...well...people. I think cable television, as often brilliant as it is these days with programming that is deeply character driven and more visually stimulating and artful than most movies (Sam Esmail's stunning "Mr. Robot," for instance), the medium is also caught at a certain crossroads as nearly every show feels to be strictly tethered to its own specified darkness and collection of anti-heroes, villains and ever deepening levels of bad behavior. It makes me wonder if there is even a place in the visual medium for a artistic sensibility like Cameron Crowe's anymore, one that is unashamedly, unabashedly and unrepentantly earnest, sincere and means every single word of which his characters speak and believe, solely because it feels as if Crowe believes every sentiment himself.

Cameron Crowe's "Roadies" is truly an anomaly on cable television as it is a show of such warmth and generosity as well as a profound lack of cynicism and self-congratulatory hipster irony. In fact, and even for all of the sex and drugs that go with the rock and roll--this series returns Crowe to the R-rated raunchiness of his own "Fast Times At Ridgemont High" (1982)--"Roadies" is actually quite innocent, unlike say Martin Scorsese's now defunct rock and roll series "Vinyl" (which I thoroughly enjoyed as well but for completely different reasons), which gleefully wallowed in the graphic, dark, violent, sexually explicit excesses of bad behavior...again which is now a cable television normality. I find it more than admirable that Crowe will remain "uncool" as much as possible just so he is able to tell his stories in the way he wishes them to be told. And to provide a sense of joy in an increasingly dark world so passionately to the point that it is a Quixotian act, makes his specialized brand of integrity so appealing and for me, heroic.

At its core, "Roadies" continues the classic Cameron Crowe theme of discovering and retaining one's integrity in a world where integrity carries increasingly less currency and respect. The roadies on this series are very much in line with past Crowe heroes as they are passionate believers in their chosen occupations, feeling that true success arrives through a certain spiritual deliverance that occurs when one finds their life's purpose, be it a love struck kickboxer, a sports agent struggling to live up to his own self-written mission statement, an aspiring journalist, rock musicians in 1990's Seattle or on tour in the 1970's, a grieving Father and zookeeper, a suicidal shoe developer or a rich playboy on a psychedelic odyssey through dreams, death and beyond.

The overt sincerity of "Roadies" does not mean that the series' lack of cynicism belies the real world struggles within the old and new ways of the music industry. In fact, it is that very struggle where the characters of "Roadies" find their heart and soul while Crowe is freely able to express his joys and laments through them.

In the series premiere episode entitled "Life Is A Carnival," we find The Staton-House Band in the middle of their "Capture The Flag" tour which is creatively stagnated. Their set list has not changed since the previous tour, which leads to some emotional stagnation for Kelly Ann, enough so where she is ready to abandon the rock and roll life on the road altogether for film school. It is within an early scene between herself and the roadie legend Phil, where she sadly expresses in a heart-to-heart moment that "I don't hear the music the same way. I don't feel like it's mine anymore...I don't know if the band is feeling it either....I have to be a fan of something or I'm useless. I'm worker bee on bus #1...My whole belief...thing...is just starting to crack."

The power of belief and the purity of one's intentions. Really, dear readers, who can honestly find fault with a sentiment of that sort? Of course, whether we may or may not reach that belief system personally or individually in our own lives, what Cameron Crowe continues to present are characters where it is not enough to just perform a job. The belief in what one is doing fuels the belief in the self yet Crowe understands that such a journey is fraught with confusion, contradictions and all manner of tribulations.

By the conclusion the first episode, Kelly Ann's remarks do find their way to the band who reciprocates by expressing that she was indeed correct and they would begin to change up the concert set lists and now include the infamous and long unplayed "Janine," inspired by the very women who broke Christopher House's (played by Tanc Sade) heart years ago. This one act not only convinces Kelly Ann to remain on tour as a roadie but it also spirals into a myriad of directions, affecting the lives of the entire crew and musicians.

We have Bill Hanson, a lifelong friend to Christopher House, a recovering addict, and one who habitually engages in promiscuous sex with younger women across the country all the while masking his own heartbreak from a failed relationship plus his own increasingly budding romantic feelings towards Shelli Anderson, who is married yet may carry the same feelings in return. Speaking of Shelli, both she and Donna represent two women who feel more at home on the road than in their real homes with their respective families. And even within the band, Tom Staton (played by Catero Alain Colbert) has his young angry son Winston (Ethan MIchael Mora) on the road with the band yet never spends time with him whatsoever, leaving him in the care and guidance of the wildly unorthodox Wes, the guitar tech.

Even greater contradictions revolve around the crew and the band's relationship towards Kelly Ann, who is often criticized for being too self-serious and navel gazing, yet it is more than obvious that she is admired for her impassioned stance and integrity against the initial corporate presence of Reg Whitehead, whom Kelly Ann admonishes for "not understanding the brand that you're trying to sell." Certainly the initial tension between Kelly Ann and Reg leads to a romantic attraction, but even their dance informs the larger story about Red himself, who also reveals himself to be a much deeper, honorable, misunderstood and wholly endearing character than initially thought to be.

Much praise must be delivered to Crowe's wonderful cast, from top to bottom, for embodying these characters with such depth, humor, nuance, heart and soul with the stunning Imogen Poots as the series' rock solid center. I really do not believe that I have ever found Luke Wilson to be so soulful before and his seamless chemistry with Carla Gugino has been the first love story in quite some time to not only move me but one that truly has some heavy stakes at heart. Rafe Spall transcended what could have been a one-note character and beautifully portrayed his evolution to heartbreaking perfection.

And I cannot say enough good things about Ron White as Phil, truly the series' constantly held aloft flame to rock and roll. White's Hoyt Axton styled folksy humor, gravelly charm and demeanor gave way to a shattering gravitas on two of the series strongest episodes, "The All Night Bus Ride" and "The Corporate Gig," and leaving an astoundingly poignant presence upon the final episode "The Load Out," an installment that simultaneously functioned as an elegy to rock and roll as well as to the triumph of its everlasting spirit.  

But somehow, for some viewers and definitely the critics, all of this (and so much more) was just not enough and the critiques just kept coming throughout the season, which ultimately, I began to feel said more about the critics than it did for the show itself. Yes, "Roadies" received some harsh knocks for its depiction of two archetypal villains representing the "new way" of the music industry vs. the purity of the old.

In the episode "The Bryce Newman Letter," Rainn Wilson portrayed the titular character, a highly influential yet enormously arrogant music blogger who is truly an agent of the "industry of cool" as he writes reviews for albums he never listened to and concerts he never even witnessed. He is a blowhard of the utmost degree and when he visits The Staton-House Band tour, he receives his comeuppance. Frankly, for all of the criticism launched against the character, I easily saw him as being representative of the aspect of internet music writers (i.e the staff of Pitchfork) who are clearly not writing for any audience other than the writers they are wishing to impress themselves. They are so obvious with their vitriol and for whom they would launch it against on some misguided set of principles, that you can really know precisely what they will write about an album or band before you even read their reviews.

Another antagonist arrives in the episode entitled "Carpet Season," where Rosanna Arquette guest stars as Abby Van Ness, a world famous photographer whom Kelly Ann has cited as an inspiration, arrives on tour to shoot the SB for the cover of Vanity Fair. This would be a great thing if not for the fact that Van Ness is truly reprehensible and also deserving of her own comeuppance. Again, she represents the figure who has bought their own hype for so long in their career and life that they have completely forgotten what inspired them in the first place, what made them fall in love with their chosen medium of expression, never treating their talent as a gift but their level of celebrity as a right.

While both characters are portrayed in broadly comic fashions, this does not mean that Cameron Crowe has nothing to say through them regarding his themes of integrity and purity. Yet for the critics, they offered nothing constructive. Only snide remarks and insults, therefore fully proving all of the points Crowe was attempting to make! Of course, I wouldn't expect everyone to fall in love with this series as I did but if there is nothing pure within the criticism, then what is the purpose other than to tear something down? And with "Roadies," for all of its sincerity, it is the easiest target in the room, making the supposed cynicism and sanctimony the property of some of the program's detractors and not Cameron Crowe in the least.

Regardless, now, the series has concluded leaving a gigantic hole in my Sunday nights as I have grown so accustomed to hopping on that tour bus and venturing to a new city with a collective of characters who now feel like friends. For all of my confusion with precisely what critics and some viewers may have wanted from this series, Cameron Crowe's "Roadies" delivered to me more than I ever could ask for with the precise amount of dedication, fandom, appreciation, artistry, and of course, the very integrity and purity that has defined Crowe as an artist for decades. While Showtime, as of this writing, has not yet announced whether they will renew or cancel the series, I am deeply hoping they will allow the band, and especially this crew, to have one more go around.

If not, "Roadies" was a series with a definitive beginning, middle and ending that left me shouting "BRAVO!!!!" Of course, I want that encore but you know, maybe the very best encore would be to just watch this beautiful series all over again.

SAVAGE CINEMA'S COMING ATTRACTIONS FOR SEPTEMBER 2016

What an absolutely dismal movie season we had this summer and how thankful I am that it is all mercifully over.

After enduring one of the weakest move seasons in recent memory, I am more than ready to place these three months or so long behind me as I look forward to the future. The fall movie season typically holds many features of (hopefully) higher quality, and in the case of this year, I am just happy to have some new films to actually feel a sense of some anticipation. While September, as I scroll through the releases, looks to be somewhat slim, I am curious about the following...

1. While Oliver Stone, who has long held a spot as one of my most favorite filmmakers, has not created the types of films that I have felt to be equal to his golden period beginning with "Salvador" (1986) and roaring through until "Any Given Sunday" (1999), I do become more than curious when he does re-appear since he is not nearly as prolific as in years past. My gut is telling me to wait to check out the tenor of reviews first but even so, I am curious as to his take on this especially controversial figure.

2. A Ron Howard documentary is something unexpected. But with "The Beatles: Eight Days A Week-The Touring Years," the unexpected has become something of extreme interest to me as this is indeed my favorite band of all time as presented through the filter of this veteran filmmaker.

3. Tim Burton makes his return to the big budget arena with his adaptation of the young adult novel and book series opener "Miss Peregrine's Home For Peculiar Children." With Burton, it really is hit or miss (with many more hits than misses but those misses tend to be especially tough going), but I am rooting for him.

4. But then, there is this flick..."Yoga Hosers," the second installment in Writer/Director Kevin Smith's flat out bonkers Canadian set "True North Trilogy" is hopefully on the way to my city and I'd better catch it when I am able as I know it won't be here for more than one week. I don't care about the harshly negative early reviews. I just know that whether love it or hate it, Smith has regained his status as one of our most fearless and original filmmakers, so I have to check out whatever he plans to dish out.

And so, I begin again at this point. So, as always, please do send me your well wishes and I'll see you when the house lights go down!

EVERYBODY CAN'T BE ON TOP: a review of "Don't Think Twice"

"DON'T THINK TWICE"
Written and Directed by Mike Birbiglia
**** (four stars)
RATED R

It was at the end of the summer four years ago, when I was inspired to see and was happily surprised by Writer/Director Mike Birbigia's semi-autobiographical filmmaking debut "Sleepwalk With Me" (2012), a film I described as being a "smart, unique, entertaining, often hilarious and subtly moving tale, that above all else, celebrates the art the comes with expert storytelling." Now, nearing the conclusion of what has been an ultimately disenchanting and dismal summer movie season, Birbiglia returns with "Don't Think Twice," his excellent, creatively bar raising follow-up feature, which announces his cinematic arrival so fully that this just may be one of the best films that I have seen in 2016, so far.

The wonderment of "Don't Think Twice" should not be undersold to you, due to the increasing rarity of films like this one being offered to the public in our multiplexes in favor of all manner of costumed characters and bombastic CGI yawn fests being shoved into our eyes at the expense of nearly any other kind of feature films being made. With this film, Mike Birbiglia, a longtime stand-up comedian and writer, has crafted and expertly perceptive and most importantly, character driven backstage drama where the comedy truly stings, the nearly constant discomfort provides palpable and often heartbreaking tension as we are given a front row seat to the inner circle of six friends/aspiring artists who wish for nothing more than the betterment of each other as long as success does not elude them all. If "Sleepwalk With Me" was Birbiglia's calling card, "Don't Think Twice" should fully and deservedly, raise his public notoriety as a creative cinematic force who can exist quite easily alongside the likes of Woody Allen, Nicole Holofcener and Richard Linklater. Yes, Birbiglia is that good and so indeed is his terrific film.

"Don't Think Twice" stars Mike Birbiglia as Miles, a member of the New York improvisational comedy troupe The Commune, a sextet who (somewhat) harmoniously work as well as live together, sustaining themselves on their live comedy performances that celebrate the inventiveness and instantaneous art and magic of being creatively inspired on the spot in front of an audience while also hoping and wishing for that big break that has so far eluded all of them.

Stuck in dead-end day jobs and with news that their home theater is soon to be demolished in one month's time, the pressure increases for The Commune and reaches a fever pitch when they are informed that representatives of "Weekend Live," a "Saturday Night Live" styled comedy show, will be attending a performance for a new casting search for performers and writers. Suddenly, the groups's "all for one, one for all" mission becomes threatened as standout player Jack Mercer (played by Keegan-Michael Key), is immediately warned by Miles to not one-up his castmates in pursuit of the greater glory.

Regardless, both Jack and his girlfriend Samantha (Gillian Jacobs from television's "Community") are requested for auditions, while hopeful graphic novelist Allison (Kate Micucci), wayward rich girl/aspiring writer Lindsay (Tami Sagher), Bill (Chris Gethard), who is stressed due to caring for an ailing parent and Miles himself, ironically the one who teaches an improv comedy class and has personally trained the entire troupe, are not. When Jack is ultimately cast on "Weekend Live," what was once familial becomes filled with jealousy, envy, disappointments and resentments that threaten to break The Commune apart forever.

For a film set within the world of improvisational comedy, as well as one that features many sequences of The Commune live on stage in their struggling theater, Mike Birbiglia's "Don't Think Twice" is probably the saddest film that I have ever seen about the nature of the comedic creative mindset and profession. Now, I do not mean that Birbiglia has crafted an experience that drifts towards the more melodramatic of something like David Seltzer's "Punchline" (1988), Billy Crystal's "Mr. Saturday Night" (1992) or nearly as devastating as Richard Pryor's flawed but brutally open hearted "Jo Jo Dancer, Your Life Is Calling" (1986).

For me, I felt that Birbiglia concocted an effort that could stand powerfully shoulder to shoulder with Judd Apatow's undervalued "Funny People" (2009) and Chris Rock's criminally underseen "Top Five" (2014), as "Don't Think Twice" carries itself with a matter-of-fact quality that never forces any of the comedy or drama because Birbiglia is wise enough as a storyteller and filmmaker to understand that all of the joy and pain is completely inherent in the story he wishes to present, allowing all of the themes and emotions to reveal themselves organically, through Birbiglia's sharp yet fully empathetic writing and direction and the pitch perfect performances from his entire cast.

Most certainly, "Don't Think Twice" is a tale of envy among friends, provocatively so and without even a trace of any in-authenticity or predictability. In a sense, Birbiglia provides us with the sense of one-upsmanship that sits at the heart of the stand up comedy world, as each comedian is striving to make their individualistic mark in a world just bursting with hopeful talents. Within the confines of The Commune, that veritable sense of competition is ever present even as much as all six members try their damnedest to not allow it to interfere with their creativity.

But such as it is, Birbiglia showcases how their backstage preparations, while pure, are often quite unctuous, as they are trying to clearly impress and even outdo each other before racing the stage, embracing each other while expressing "Got your back!" repeatedly to each other, fully noting the complete collaborative effort of their performances. Yes, once word arrives that "Weekend Live" will be in the house, measures of self-preservation and survival within such a precariously cut-throat industry instantly rears its ugly head as Jack takes the spotlight for himself in the guise of collaboration. Within those moments, Mike Birbiglia brilliantly blurs the lines between professional and creative honestly and falsehoods, which will then fuel the motivations for all of the film's characters for the remainder of "Don't Think Twice."

When Jack is cast on "Weekend Live," Birbiglia presents his Commune castmates painfully reading the news on the internet and even as they watch him perform on nationwide live television each week and do sincerely wish him well, you also realize that they are secretly hoping for him to fail, questioning why they were not chosen instead of him and consistently request if he would be able to put in good words for them. This aspect, in turn, gives Birbiglia wonderful opportunities to illustrate Jack's dilemma with not only sudden national fame without his friends but how his fame now affects The Commune's live performances as their audiences now wish for Jack to not only return to the stage but to endlessly reprise his now famous television characters. And now armed with famous friends like Ben Stiller (who makes a cameo appearance), Jack additionally struggles with the nature of success on a tougher level than he ever anticipated, where competition is fiercer, the stress for survival is higher and the rewards just may be fewer.

On an even deeper level is the film's extremely touching love story between Jack and Samantha, who indeed was not chosen for "Weekend Live," and possibly never even wanted the show in the first place, which reveals feelings of guilt for Jack and feeling increasingly misunderstood for Samantha and the two of them threatening to drift apart into completely separate lives.  Again, I deeply appreciated how Birbiglia never over-played even one moment between Jack and Samantha, allowing their respective character arcs to unfold as naturally as life and also giving them tough questions to ask of themselves and each other and without providing any easy answers.

The level of envy feels to run the highest for Miles, who repeatedly proclaims that he was just this close to finding himself cast upon "Weekend Live" years earlier but was not chosen and is simply seething that the ones he has taught himself have out paced him in the world he feels to love more than any other members of The Commune. And yet, the 36 year old Miles is himself caught within a state of arrested development, living with the members of The Commune in what is essentially an extension of college dorm life (he even sleeps in a wooden elevated loft bed), and perpetually bedding 22 year female students from his improv classes until he strikes up a new relationship with a former high school crush, an event that may push him towards a greater maturity, if he chooses to accept it.

And even further, Birbiglia presents the inspirational hunger for all of the characters who seem to thrive within this live setting that exists without a net, the camaraderie when all members are present, the sadness when all members are not, as elegantly displayed through Birbiglia's motif of a set of chairs onstage that increase or even decrease in number depending on the performance. There is true danger within the setting of improvisational comedy, the threat of complete failure and the utter brilliance of individuals brave, creative and funny enough to even want to repeatedly attempt something that feels to be impossible.

It's..ahem...funny, but even with so many sequences within the film presenting The Commune, clearly inspired by the likes of Chicago's Second City as well as The Upright Citizen's Brigade, on stage, I was surprised at how little I actually laughed during those scenes as I happened to not find The Commune to be that particularly funny at all. Now this quality is not a fault of the film in any way. In fact, and in addition to their level of funniness being determined by each and every viewer of the film, Birbiglia is displaying for all of us just how difficult improvisational comedy actually is. That the kind of comedy that we can see within the fully improvised films of Christopher Guest or on and Larry David's "Curb Your Enthusiasm" arrives from an uncanny creative, comedic, rapidly fast and unquestionably fluid mental agility that not just anyone can possibly accomplish. It is indeed high-wire comedy, the kind of which can only exist within the moment before it is gone forever.

And that, dear readers, is the exceedingly poignant core of "Don't Think Twice," creating and existing within moments that are not designed to last. Birbiglia has indeed created a film that is not only bittersweet but also elegiac as we are witness to the potential endings of friendships, romantic relationships, the closing of a cherished yet run down theater, and finally, the individual hopes and dreams of our cast of characters. Yes, sometimes, as the adage proclaims, we laugh so that we may not cry but for "Don't Think Twice," whatever tears that do fall, Mike Birbiglia richly earns each and every one.

Mike Birbiglia's "Don't Twink Twice" is a handsomely rewarding slice-of-life comedy/drama that carries no stitch of prefabricated intentions or plot threads but is filled copiously with smart, savvy, creative characters all trying and often failing to do right by themselves and for the people closest to them. This is not a film with any villains, although our cast often hurt each other while trying to advance themselves and despite their best intentions to the contrary. And most of all, it captures the turbulence, for better or worse, contained within every moment of decision, either in comedy or within life itself, every moment that is here and gone in less than a second but has the power to reverberate infinitely.

Mike Birbiglia, you have truly risen through the ranks to become one of cinema's most unique, fresh and refreshing voices.

REMEMBERING JOHN HUGHES-SEVEN YEARS LATER: HAPPY 30TH ANNIVERSARY TO "PRETTY IN PINK" (1986)

A JOHN HUGHES PRODUCTION
"PRETTY IN PINK" 
Written by John Hughes
Executive Producer John Hughes
Directed by Howard Deutch
RATED PG 13
Released February 28, 1986

I know so deeply how much this particular film has meant and will always mean to me. But there are times when I just am unable to believe that this very film, this deceptively simple film, has continued to endure so strongly after all of this time.

For the seventh year, I once again return to my annual tribute which commemorates the life and films of Writer/Producer/Director John Hughes who passed away from a sudden heart attack at the young age of 59 while on a morning stroll during a visit with his family in Manhattan on August 6, 2009, As I have always attested, I firmly believe that if it were not for Hughes, my life as a writer may not have occurred, or at least in the ways that is has grown and developed over much of my life since my adolescence. This, certainly, is not designed to denigrate or remotely downplay the writers whose work has also massively influenced me, either around the same period as John Hughes or even long afterwards, like Lawrence Kasdan, Cameron Crowe and John Irving to name just three. But John Hughes is the one whose work struck me to my very core. Like the finest and most powerful of lightning bolts, it found me, made a direct hit and altered my life forever in every conceivably positive way, influencing and inspiring me to degrees that I am still discovering.

If only I could thank him...

For this year's tribute, I turn my attention to Hughes' "Pretty In Pink," which he wrote exclusively for star Molly Ringwald, executive produced as the directorial debut of Howard Deutch, and is also a film that officially reached its 30th anniversary earlier this year! 30 years!! Amazing. In so many ways, I do find it incredible that the legacy of "Pretty In Pink" has remained intact for such a long period of time primarily due to its ages old plot line of a poor girl literally from the wrong side of the tracks who falls in love with a rich boy from the right side and desires to go to the school prom with him. In truth, the continuing legacy of the film has seemed to even strike all of the participants involved with the same level of bemused surprise as the simplicity of the story feels to be so easy.

But, this is precisely why John Hughes, at his very best, was so powerfully effective, enormously entertaining and undeniably moving. He distinctly knew and believed in what he was doing within his stories and characters, even if everyone else around him didn't quite see the fullness of his vision as these films were being made. His films were deeply heartfelt odes not only to the teenage years but to a certain rite of passage and the very personal transformations we all experience at any age. With "Pretty In Pink," just as he accomplished with his beloved "The Breakfast Club" (1985) and "Ferris Bueller's Day Off" (1986), was to create a multi-layered experience that simultaneously had Hughes' adolescent nerve endings fully exposed but also armed his adult perspective as this film was made when Hughes was in his mid 30's. Maintaining that level of artistic and emotional balance is no small feat and John Hughes handled the experience with a brilliance and bittersweetness that has ensured that the resonance of "Pretty In Pink" has not solely endured. It has even become even more lovingly rendered than I had ever felt it to be.

John Hughes, Howard Deutch, Jon Cryer
and Molly Ringwald on the set of "Pretty In Pink" circa 1985

I first saw "Pretty In Pink" at the age of 17 at an advance sneak preview in Chicago and alongside my cousin's Adam and Susan, who were kind enough to take me as my entire family by this time had been more than aware of my devotion and obsessions with all things John Hughes by this point. To provide you with an accurate picture, at this stage, Hughes previous three writing and directorial efforts, "Sixteen Candles" (1984), "Weird Science" (1985) and the aforementioned "The Breakfast Club" has essentially been playing on a continuous loop in my household on the family VCR located in the basement, which had then become my primary domain, aside from doing homework in my actual bedroom upstairs. While Hughes had very quickly become a hero to me and friends at school had certainly seen those films, enjoyed them and laughed about them, endlessly quoting key lines of dialogue to each other in the school hallways, it still felt as if Hughes was mine, that he had reached me in a much more profound way than anyone else. Little did I know how much of an impact he was having across the nations teenage population.

During those years, John Hughes remarked occasionally that what he was trying to do with his films during this period was the innovative practice of building an audience for his work. That when one film was playing in theaters, the next one was being made and the previous one would be available on home video--much like what Disney is currently performing with the Marvel Comics movies.

I followed the Chicago newspapers, plus film and entertainment magazines for any and all information I could find on upcoming Hughes projects. When news of "Pretty In Pink" first arrived, I believe it was within the Chicago Tribune "Inc." gossip columns from writer Michael Sneed, who first gave an official "Open Casting Call" announcement for young men between certain ages interested in playing what was being advertised as "Molly Ringwald's best friend" for a future John Hughes feature. Although I knew that I would never had a chance (although why couldn't Molly have a Black best friend?) and I wasn't interested in acting anyway (I just wanted the chance to meet Hughes), I found my most recent high school class photo, since I knew nothing about head shots and sent it into the address listed in the article.

I heard absolutely nothing in response. But, a high school upperclassman acquaintance of mine supposedly did.

By now, you can all guess that the role in question was for the part of Philip F. Dale, otherwise and forever known as Duckie, the lifelong best friend of Ringwald's character, who achingly nurses an unrequited crush for her--a dilemma of which I possessed vast personal experience if anyone in Hollywood had wished to know about it. This role in particular was up for grabs as Hughes veteran Anthony Michael Hall, for whom the part was originally written, actually turned the part down for fear of being typecast and also desiring to try other projects, a decision made to Hughes' severe disappointment as the two never spoke again, notably to Hall's confusion.

At any rate, news traveled around my  high school hallways that one of our own had been called and did try out for the part of Duckie. His name is Chris Csikszentmihalyi--yes, it really is! I remember the two of us being smaller kids and inauspiciously meeting on one of the school's playgrounds with him asking me to guess his name and its spelling. Since I didn't know him at the time, I had no response or guess to give to him. So, he proceeded to write his last name in the dirt with a stick, to my disbelief and his insistence that it was indeed his last name. Anyhow, I found Chris and asked him if he had tried out to which he said, "Yes." I asked if he had met John Hughes to which he said, "No." But, if memory serves me well, he did seem to be more than a bit tickled to have tried out and even moreso, as he was supposedly (according the the high school hallway rumor mill) called back several times before Paramount Pictures (Hughes' production home base after leaving Universal) forced the production (as well as Hughes and his family) to move and be filmed in Los Angeles instead of Hughes' native Chicago, thus opening the door for Jon Cryer to receive the coveted role and leaving any young Chicago acting hopefuls--including Mr. Csikszentmihalyi--out of the running entirely.  

By the time "Pretty In Pink" was gearing up for its release, I tried to anticipate when television commercials promoting the film might air and absolutely rejoicing when I was finally able to see snippets of what the final product would look like. It was also around this time when I realized that Hughes himself would not be directing the film, a decision that confused me as I had read interviews and stories about his tribulations with other directors not serving his material in ways that he had wished to preserve the story as he had originally conceived. I had no idea of who Howard Deutch was, especially as he was a first time director. But since Hughes was the Executive Producer and his name was above the film's title, I hoped that his influence and creative voice would remain evident.

Finally, the advance screenings were set for one night only at a round of Chicago movie theaters and again, according to Sneed, John Hughes himself was planning to possibly attend one of the screenings as he enjoyed watching how his films worked with actual paying audiences. Certainly, as I lived on the Southwest side of Chicago, worlds away from the wealthy Northern suburbs where Hughes himself resided, I still held out some hope that I would catch a glimpse of his owl framed spectacles, shaggy brown hair, denim jacket I had seen in interviews coupled with the unlaced gym shoes that I had read about, and somehow find the courage to try and speak to him, forging a long wished for connection even for a fleeting moment. Of course, that moment never happened but even so...

The first amazing sight of the evening actually occurred before I saw even one frame of the finished film. If memory serves, the night featured a sold out audience, the largest audience that I had yet seen a John Hughes film. It was obvious that  Hughes' business plan of building an audience had succeeded swimmingly as this night, it felt as if John Hughes had fully arrived, that he had built his brand over the course of three films, gained the trust of his targeted teenage audience and now that he had us, we all flooded the theaters in support. In fact, all of the articles that I had been scouring in the newspapers and magazines, articles that I imagined existing as secret coded messages for my eyes only, were in actuality being read by everyone else in the movie theater as I overheard other kids also pondering if John Hughes himself would make a covert appearance. Regardless, the night carried the unmistakable vibe of the most highly anticipated rock concert and we were all ready! Adam, Susan and I took or seats, had our snacks and I anxiously awaited for the opening moments of the new John Hughes Production.

Vibrantly announcing itself with The Psychedelic Furs' re-recorded song from which the film was named, "Pretty In Pink" opens on a late Spring morning in the working class poor home of high school Senior Andie Walsh (Molly Ringwald). After readying herself for school, fully adorned outwardly with her thrift store wardrobe and self-created fashion designs, Andie prepares breakfast and coffee as she wakes her loving yet unemployed and brokenhearted Father, Jack Walsh (Harry Dean Stanton), still paralyzed by the emotional wounds left behind by Andie's Mother who walked out on the family years ago.

At the wealthy public high school in her community, life is no less stressful for Andie as aside from the standard trials and tribulations of adolescence, she is ceaselessly taunted by her white collar classmates,  most notably by the serpentine Steff McKee (James Spader), in an environment divided into two camps, the "richies" (the wealthy) and the "zoids" (the poor), where aside from classes, never the 'twain they shall meet.

Until the day, the wealthy Blane McDonough (Andrew McCarthy) makes his move.

Blane, who has long held a secret attraction towards Andie, finally strikes up the courage to break ranks with his social group and approach her, first inside of Trax!, the trendy record store where Andie holds an afterschool job under the employ of the internally wayward and wandering Iona (Annie Potts) and secondly through the school's computer system via some fancy pre-social network cleverness.

After the two begin to strike up nervous, flirtatious conversations, Blane finally asks Andie out for a date, which sends shockwaves through the hallways, especially through the respective best friends of both hopeful romantics, Steff on Blane's side and the gregarious and heartsick Duckie (Jon Cryer), Andie's best friend since childhood who has long held an unrequited love towards her.

As social pressures build for the star crossed lovers, everything reaches its climax as Blane asks Andie to the prom, forcing all of the characters to question their own allegiances to their social groups as well as to their own struggles with independence, strength, individuality, class warfare, respect, dignity, personal successes and failures all the while negotiating and experiencing the lows and highs of falling in love.

John Hughes and Howard Deutch's "Pretty In Pink," in my heart as well as in the movie theater audience that surrounded me, made a direct hit and seemed to be destined for box office glory. That packed night held riotous laughter, cheers, screams, audible tears and rapturous applause over and again and as for myself, whatever trepidacious feelings I had over Deutch handling the directorial reins instead of Hughes completely evaporated. While he did not posses  Hughes' consistently innovative directorial gifts, Deutch confirmed that he was easily was able to handle the larger moments (Duckie's romantic outpouring via his record store dance to Otis Redding's "Try A Little Tenderness" was, and remains, the roof raising crowd pleaser) and most importantly, the quieter, more interior moments absolutely beautifully. Howard Deutch demonstrated that he was a patient director, one who was especially observant, who allowed silences to play, having unspoken moments to reveal deeper emotional textures and nuances tat have actually grown to be more stirring and satisfying over these 30 years.

To the best of my knowledge, I may have been the first kid in my school to see it, and as was my wont, I pestered everyone about it, telling my friends how much I loved it but that it was a slightly different kind of John Hughes experience. It felt to be a tad more traditional, with the drama taking a larger role than in films past, and that included "The Breakfast Club," which still feels like an independent art film along the lines of Louis Malle's "My Dinner With Andre" (1981). And while the film did indeed become a box office hit, I do think that the earnestness of "Pretty In Pink" was somewhat lost on my friends, who possibly preferred something that was not perhaps so overly romantic or at least so seemingly old fashioned or even melodramatic. But, for me, and whatever my views on romance happened to be during those years, John Hughes made my heart ache and soar all over again, filling my teenage dreams of love with hope and possibility.

Director Of Photography Tak Fujimoto, John Hughes and Howard Deutch

And now, we arrive 30 years later and the film is more prevalent than I feel it has ever been. Certainly, it serves as a source of nostalgia for my generation but it is a film that despite its obvious aesthetic ties to the 1980's, is a film that has truthfully becomes timeless as its characters and themes have transcended any sense of cliche and have resonated richly for several generations since its original release. The film is still widely seen upon cable television channels and a few years ago, when I had the pleasure of meeting Molly Ringwald at a book signing, I had the opportunity to viewing teenage girls and women of a variety of ages and backgrounds, all eager to have a moment to express their affection and gratitude, especially for "Pretty In Pink," which played in a loop on a large screen television in the auditorium. Unquestionably, the film has held up over time powerfully.

Honestly, dear readers, if "Pretty In Pink" was solely a film about which boy would Molly choose, then it would not be worth giving a second thought, no matter who was behind the scenes, John Hughes or otherwise. As I have previously stated, the film is deceptively simple and for me, "Pretty In Pink" is a film that actually spirals off from "The Breakfast Club" to be an experience that explores and understands peer pressure to a meticulous and fully empathetic degrees, illustrating how we have the ability to hurt and damage others as well as ourselves through actions that are typically designed for self-preservation. Hughes and Deutch honored that specific dilemma, showcasing how this kind of pressure is one that permeates all ages and backgrounds, making for a story that is ultimately about human nature, not just Hughes' richies and zoids.

I felt that it was perfect to explore peer pressure through the filter of a love story, and one that does indeed extended beyond its "Romeo And Juliet" framework. "Pretty In Pink" is not just about Andie and Blane. In fact, it is a love story that goes beyond the love triangle once you include the unrequited Duckie. Hughes and Deutch have given us a film where Andie is pursued by three suitors: Blane, Duckie and Steff McKee.

Howard Deutch, James Spader and John Hughes

Steff McKee, as played to slithering perfection by James Spader, feels to function as Hughes' strong insight into male behavior (and for that matter, White male privilege) a type that may be the closest link to the cruelty within The Psychedelic Furs' song ("the first in the line is the last to remember her name") as Steff represents the type of young man who makes a habit of using women as toys and possessions to ultimately be discarded. Yet, when Andie firmly rebuffs his advances near the opening of the film, Steff's response is to openly call her a "bitch," and then spend the remainder of the film covertly attempting to destroy her and Blane. And even still, Hughes delves deeper to illustrate Steff's overall callous relationship with his parents, his family's wealth and his jaded view of life itself.

I still love that terrific scene set in his family's home library, as he almost absentmindedly rolls a joint while quietly threatening Blane with social exclusion should he continue to pursue his romance with what Steff refers to as Blane's "little piece of low grade ass." This scene remains a stunning moment of blatant human disregard where the only gains are in power, control and having that front row seat in viewing the losses of others, in this case Blane's sense of self-respect as he is soon to fully crumble. The teenaged Steff McKee is certainly in the running to become a full fledged Tea Party Republican in his future unless a scrappy school hallway beating courtesy of Duckie and a final dressing down by Blane at the prom are unable to restore any sense of heart, soul and decency within him.

As awful as Steff is, Hughes and Deutch wisely do not let Blane off of the hook either. While he is the one who first courts Andie and his intentions are pure, that pesky wealthy White male privilege rears its ugly head here and there as Blane consistently misses social cues and makes serious mistakes to which Andie always rights his wrongs, which to his credit he always obliges, withstands and even seems to appreciate with bemused, self-deprecating humor.

The mid-film date between Blane and Andie is an extremely painful section of "Pretty In Pink" as their respective social classes are in conflict despite their individual mutual attractions to each other, leading to a series of misunderstandings that are indeed mostly Blane's fault. Assuming Andie needs to return home to get dressed for their date when she is fully ready. Overestimating the tolerance of his wealthy social class by taking Andie to Steff's final weekend high school blow out  house party, where she is routinely insulted and humiliated, most notably by Steff's girlfriend, the especially nasty Benny Hanson (Kate Vernon). When Blane, ashamed of himself with his errors at one point asks Andie if she wishes to hit him and is met with a powerfully tact "Yes," he recovers with humor while acknowledging his mistakes.

Moments like these pepper the building relationship between Andie and Blane before he fully succumbs to peer pressure, backing out of his own invitation to the prom with the lamest of lame excuses, the culmination of his worst impulses despite his good nature and honest feelings towards Andie. It is only when Andie tearfully screams and throttles him by the lockers in the high school hallway does Blane McDonough finally realize that Andie Walsh is stronger and better than he could ever truly be if he really wanted to fully win her hand. He is broken by the fact that he has hurt Andie definitely, but I think that his realization that he is ultimately undone by his own weakness is what shakes Blane to his core. That he is not the person he thought he was. Not as above the prejudices he thought that he was. And if he isn't, then he is just as horrible as all of the people around him that he calls friends and family. This is Blane's existential "benchmark moment" as he is now forced to ask of himself, "Who am I? What have I become? Is this who I am destined to be?"

Molly Ringwald and Jon Cryer

But of course, what just may be the most painful relationship in the film is the one between best friends Andie Walsh and Duckie Dale, as with "Pretty In Pink," John Hughes has written a tender portrait of friendships on the precipice of life altering transitions, a theme he further explored in "Ferris Bueller's Day Off," "Some Kind Of Wonderful" (1987), and to a extent within "She's Having A Baby" (1988).

It has been expressed in interviews that Molly Ringwald and Jon Cryer actually did not get along that swimmingly on set, as Cryer described her as being somewhat aloof and therefore, resistant to his more gregarious and excitable nature (especially how thrilled he was to be working on a John Hughes production). even so, that real life tension worked tremendously well for their characters as we are witnessing two life long friends who are indeed drifting apart in the final weeks of high school. Andie, much more serious minded and academically strong than Duckie's class clown, who just might be deliberately failing his classes due to his fear of the inevitable future, is at a stage where she just does not have the time to deal with all of Duckie's antics, no matter how much she loves him. And as for Duckie, all he wishes is that Andie could possibly love him in the way that he has been so desperately in love with her for far too long. For if she did, perhaps this would be one aspect of his life that would not have to change after graduation and Andie unquestionably heads off to college.

Here is the aspect of Duckie that is markedly different than Andie: Duckie is friendless. Throughout the film, we see Andie with other high school friends, from the caustic Jena Hoeman (the late Alexa Kenin) and Simon (Dweezil Zappa), either in classes or within the teen nightclub where Duckie is constantly denied entrance, and aside from scenes where he and Andie are together, Duckie is essentially all alone. Even mentions of family are present within the film for many of the characters except for Duckie, whose sad home life we witness is one of somber solitude set to music by The Smiths.

The "crying clown" would be nothing more than a cliche if not for the sensitivity of Hughes writing, Deutch's direction and most certainly, Jon Cryer's wonderful, hysterical and heartbreaking performance. His gregariousness and humor are the only shields he has in a world that turns a blind eye to him, and that includes Andie Walsh, whose friendship and love is gradually turning to irritation, sometimes to a surprisingly harsh degree ("You ever have one of these?" she coldly asks Iona after Duckie's unleashes his record store dance). Duckie is the kid who just tries a little too hard and is therefore an outcast within his own group of outcasts. The only people who are remotely patient with him, aside from Andie (and even her's is waning), are the adults in his life, from Iona, Andie's Father (in a very lovely scene the two share) and Andrew "Dice" Clay's nightclub bouncer, as they seem to recognize his predicament in ways his peers simply cannot. Yet, again, where are Duckie's parents? They are never seen nor are they mentioned even one time.

Duckie Dale exists as one of John Hughes' several isolated loner characters from Alison Reynolds and John Bender from "The Breakfast Club," to Cameron Frye in "Ferris Bueller's Day Off," to Watts the Drummer Girl in "Some Kind Of Wonderful" to even the gregarious and grieving travelling salesman Del  Griffith in "Planes, Trains And Automobiles" (1987). Duckie is one more Hughes hero cut off a bit from the mainstream, a lonely figure on the fringes but one who may be most deserving of attention, respect and love due to the fact he rarely receives it. And yet, even so, he is one of the strongest as his perseverance is steadfast despite any obstacles thrown in his direction, especially those that are self-made.

The key to Duckie is the greatness of his loyalty and dedication, even after his heart has been shattered on the night Andie has her date with Blane. He defends her honor not once but twice after their "breakup" and yet, he makes his most crucial decision on prom night when he finally acknowledges the truth of his relationship with Andie and lets her go to be with Blane--a decision where he begins to ultimately let go of his past to make significant first steps into the future he is undoubtedly fearing.

Prom night is the night where Duckie begins to build his newfound sense of maturity.

There can be no exploration about "Pretty In Pink" without delving into the film's leading protagonist, Andie Walsh and the film's star Molly Ringwald, again for whom this film was specifically written.

The collaboration between John Hughes and Molly Ringwald was truly a magical one for me. While she was not one that I had ever housed any sort of a crush, I deeply admired her, looked up to her, all the while realizing that there was simply no one else who looked or sounded quite like her and displayed a certain sense of intelligence and conviction that was just unheard of within the 1980's teen film genre (and for that matter, has there really been anyone else like her since?). With "Pretty In Pink," her final collaboration with Hughes, Molly Ringwald was graced with a character that allowed her to rise to the fullest of her powers at that time as Andie Walsh truly is a cinematic rarity as well as a character of undeniable strength and tenacity.

It would not be hard pressed to describe "Pretty In Pink" as being a film of empowerment. Yes, the "Cinderella" framework of the poor, put-upon girl being courted by the young handsome prince to go to the ball is more than evident, as John Hughes was certainly the master of the teen fantasy. But, it was within that fantasy that Hughes gave his characters and story some truthful realities to give the film weight and gravity, ensuring the fantasy did not just fly off into the ether but resonated and reverberated powerfully and honestly. It is a dance that Hughes, along with Howard Deutch, handled richly as they never wallowed in the darkness but also never gave the film's tougher elements short shrift either. Everything was doled out in just the right amounts where the comedy, drama, reality and fantasy all worked together in perfect tandem.

As with so many elements in our own real lives, everything begins within the home and for Andie Walsh, that could not be more prevalent. "Pretty In Pink" gives us a window into the world of an 18 year old girl forced to play the role of parent to her own Father, dilapidated, depressed and possibly alcoholic fr three full years after her Mother and his wife abandoned them. Andie's strength and tenacity stems from their combined loss. Where Jack falls apart and with no sense of repair remotely in sight, Andie finds her resolve to not only keep her family afloat. Just think, her record store job is most likely ensuring there is food in the house and that bills are paid as Jack's part time employment could not possibly cover all of those costs. Her fashion sense and creativity has allowed her to be frugal and only spend on the necessities. And still, er eye in on her future as she as also resigned herself to not become as lost as her Father as college and potential scholarships are in her direct sights. As she informs Jena during gym class wen asked why she studies so much, Andie briskly replies, "I don't want to work in a record store my whole life."

To that end, Andie is essentially surrounded by figures who are all within some state of feeling emotionally stunted or lost entirely. Duckie is lost in love as well as being lost in his fears of the future. Blane is lost in his insecurities and failings. Even Iona, who functions as Andie's surrogate Mother/big sister figure as well her employer is lost in nostalgia and her own identity crisis. Only Andie knows what she wants and is determined enough to do whatever she is able to do to achieve her goals, if only to not fall into the traps that everyone she loves has fallen into.

This quality doesn't make Andie a perfect individual by any means. She loses her temper, falls into her own insecurities and even feels ore than resentful at times that she just can't always depend upon her Father to just be her at her, leaving her to be the child for once. Take the gentle scene between Andie and Jack after her first date with Blane. While Jack tenderly offers his advice to a confused Andie regarding the class differences between herself, Blane, their respective social groups and whatever consequences a potential romance may hold, he just as painfully turns the tables when he essentially needs Andie to console him because he is the one she is forced to confide in now that Mom has exited their lives. Not even for one night can Andie solely exist as the daughter and Jack as the Father and the responsibility and pressure is exhausting and eventually explodes in what I feel to be the film's most difficult and emotionally raw sequence where Andie forces her Father to accept that Mom is gone and will never come back.

Over these 30 years, it has become more and more apparent to me that Andie Walsh functions as the John Hughes surrogate--possibly serving as the best of himself (or how he wished he could have been) as he navigated through Hollywood. "If someone doesn't believe in me, I can't believe in them," Andie shares with Blane. More and more, that sentiment feels like a personal John Hughes mantra considering the sensitivity of his heart and emotions when dealing with his creations and the relationships he formed with individuals bringing them into three dimensional life.

Another Andie Walsh-ism, "I wanted them to know that they didn't break me," has proven itself to be even more powerful. Molly Ringwald has expressed that when people, mostly women, have approached her over these past 30 years, they have mentioned this one line of dialogue in particular as having a significant personal effect on their respective lives. As far as John Hughes is concerned, perhaps a statement like that one was Hughes himself offering a window into his inner world to the audience, especially as the demands of Hollywood surrounded him and his family when all he really wanted to do was to just write, create and film his stories with as little interference as possible. Yet, of course, he always had to be influenced by suggestions, alternations and compromises...most notably, filming "Pretty In Pink" in California instead of Chicago and unquestionably, changing the ending to his own film, an alteration which I do firmly believe was indeed for the better.

I think that it is quite telling that Howard Deutch desired to make this film his directorial debut. Much has been said or slightly questioned as to John Hughes' ultimate involvement with the film as he was not credited as director but the idea has been floated that he "ghost directed" the film. Well, both Molly Ringwald and Jon Cryer have each expressed that Hughes himself was not on set terribly much. Yet through every production photo that I have seen, plus behind the scenes footage, John Hughes is right on set and actively involved in discussions with Deutch and the cast.

According to Deutch's own wonderful DVD commentary, he expressed how Hughes' availability was paramount to his own work, making their collaboration a true partnership. Deutch explained that Hughes was on set for some crucial scenes, practically standing over his shoulder, guiding Deutch and the cast, telling him that he hasn't hit the right moment or tone just yet and try another take. Two sequences in particular Deutch expressed their difficulty in discovering the correct emotional pitch: The scene where Andie confesses to Blane that she doesn't want him to see where she lives and the aforementioned confrontation between Andie and Jack.

Howard Deutch explained that when John Hughes first approached him to direct one of his screenplays, that he was presented with two different scripts. One was entitled "The New Kid," and was a broad comedy centered around a transfer student from Arizona trying to find his way in a Chicago high school. The other was "Pretty In Pink." Deutch chose "Pretty  Pink" simply because he said it made him cry. He chose Jon Cryer because he saw such vulnerability in him that he just couldn't bear to see this kid getting emotionally hurt. It is that very sensibility which fuels "Pretty In Pink" and gives it its tender eggshell core and again, those nuanced silences that speak volumes.

Hughes and Deutch became a tremendously effective pairing as Hughes helped and assisted whenever needed yet when it came down to making that major change in the film's finale, Deutch was instrumental in having the right alterations made yet keeping the integrity of the project fully intact.

Yes, dear readers, I am in full possession of the novelization as well as the 5th draft version of Hughes' original screenplay and in both, Andie and Duckie prevail against the "richies" at the prom as they dance together, swirling around and around and implying that Andie will at long last reciprocate Duckie's feelings. Howard Deutch has said the test audiences were with the film completely until that ending, because practically, the audiences wanted Molly to "get the boy." Deutch knew that for the full success of the film, the ending had to be changed. Upon having further conversations with an understandably upset Hughes who did not wish for his material to be that significantly tampered with, it was also noted that Hughes was indeed questioned with the following concept should the ending not be changed: Did he really wish to make a movie that tells the audience that people from different backgrounds could not and should not be together?

Ah...yes...and so, Hughes went back to write and decided that Blane would arrive at the prom...all alone.

The masterstroke of Blane not only arriving at prom alone but being there solely with the hopes that Andie would also arrive and he could just tell her that he was wrong, that he was sorry and that he truly loved her, regardless of whether she accepted him or not was wonderful and fully deserving of everything that had come before during the course of the film. This essence was possibly a message Hughes may have had to the young men in his audience about what it takes to be a man. To be sensitive, to own up to your mistakes and wrongful decision if any had been made, to understand that perhaps sometimes to love a women, one has to even walk away in order for both to grow (just as Duckie realized as well). And so, with this climactic prom sequence, Andie Walsh retains the fullness of her integrity and empowerment while Blane finds redemption and forgiveness, Duckie finds maturity and Steff's meets his comeuppance as all four of them take their first steps into their respective post-high school futures.

And to think, all of this from a movie about a girl who wishes to go to the prom.

John Hughes' "Pretty In Pink," as directed by Howard Deutch, is a gift of art and entertainment, a work of great populism and the intensely personal, crowd pleasing comedy and heartfelt drama and containing a nuance and texture in the ways of friendships, family, love and romance that remains a rarity in too many Hollywood features. It is a testament to the full cast and crew for their commitment to ensuring that the underlying qualities of this deceptively simple story were prevalent rather than the fashion, the innovative soundtrack and even the endlessly quotable Hughes dialogue. "Pretty In Pink" had to be emotionally true to the elegant pains and pleasures of love and loss, the dance contained in all relationships of some intimacy, and the feelings inherent within personal successes and failures.

Howard Deutch circa 1985

In an interview published in the March 24, 2016 edition of the online publication Milk, from writer Rachel Hodin, Howard Deutch offered his impressions of why "Pretty In Pink" has withstood the test of time so beautifully.

"I think it's a case-by-case writer situation. I mean, the teen movie, or any movie--the values of that script are based on what the writer's pint of view is. John had a great female voice...He had a great ability to write for women, and young women, when others didn't. So, if you look at 'Sixteen Candles,' and you look at Molly's character, and also her point of view on the different obstacles she had to overcome, you see the story of the journey of a girl (becoming a) woman. It's (a journey) that all girls and all boys have to take. And, that's something an audience and the rest of us can identify with and relate to and get invested in, because it's like our own lives.

In those stories--and (it's) the same (for) 'Pretty In Pink'--I think you, as an audience, not only are entertained, but you're identifying with that character. And if you're a woman, it becomes a much more empowering story when you see the decisions that John wanted that character to make. In the end, these characters discover that they can stand on their own, or that they're worthy of love, or whatever (the story) is thematically about. But, he was unusual in that way. He could write for both men and women, and there aren't a lot, in my opinion, who had that talent...He was an acutely sensitive, empathetic, super raw-nerved, exposed individual. And also, frozen in time, in that high school era. He always, I think, identified with the underdog--always felt underappreciated or looked over. All of the things most of us feel in high school, I think those things stayed with him."

And to various degrees, for each and every individual viewer who has ever embraced this film, perhaps all of those feelings have stayed with us too. I know for certain they have with myself. And somehow, someway, it was John Hughes who captured and harnessed those emotions so uniquely over and again, in order to tell stories rooted within their specific time but are unabashedly timeless.

John, as always, I miss you and for forever, I thank you.

John Hughes
February 18, 1950-August 6, 2009

with Dweezil Zappa, Molly Ringwald, Andrew McCarthy and Jon Cryer