A Bunch of Brats Revisited

 

I'm watching the documentary Brats, looking back to the era of "The Brat Pack."

Directed by Andrew McCarthy, himself a member of "The Brat Pack" (like it or not), it examines the term and the impact it had on the actors who were lumped in that group.

I'm watching it as I write, and there seems to be a feeling of resentment for the label, especially by McCarthy himself.

For me, and likely countless others, it's a walk back in time.

I liked probably most of the movies that fell under that banner but I remember -- in my usual style -- rolling my eyes at the phenomenon. They were a group of actors and I tend to eschew the obsession with such base things. The bottom line was that I just wanted to be entertained or it was where I went on a social gathering.

Let's face it, I didn't see Ferris Bueller's Day Off in the theater. Read that again, considering how much that movie has been a part of my life.

I had nothing against the actors in general but I tend to roll my eyes at "idols." 

I saw Pretty in Pink in a theater because I was on a date. It was an entertaining film.

I love The Breakfast Club but I saw it later at home. Same with Sixteen Candles.

But the memories of all of this are strong. Of course, years later, we can't deal with these movies without wringing our hands over Long Duk Dong in Sixteen Candles or the makeover of Allison in The Breakfast Club.

Some of the movies just never did it for me. The characters of St. Elmo's Fire were likely people I wouldn't be hanging out with (and I couldn't stand the overplayed theme song).

I suppose that was some of it for me. These people weren't often relatable. I wasn't a kid that you could put in a bucket. Oh, you could try to make me be Anthony Michael Hall's characters from Sixteen Candles or The Breakfast Club but you'd quickly realize it doesn't work. I'm not that much of a nerd/geek. 

But I did know plenty who fit so I guess there's that.

I liked that I couldn't be categorized. I floated among basically any group to a degree but, mostly, I was just me.

Let's face it. I still am. The same bands that I was obsessed with are the ones I still listen to now. 

Pick a day in 1985. Any day. I'm likely listening to Sports by Huey Lewis and the News. I'm excited for Rickey Henderson joining the Yankees and, paired with Don Mattingly and Dave Winfield, I know the Bombers will score. But can they pitch? I'll be trying to convince myself that Mark Malone is the right quarterback for the Steelers.

And I'm sure there's a girl in this scene. Somewhere.

So would it surprise anyone that I now broadcast sports and host a radio show about The Beatles?

It wouldn't surprise me overall. 

But this documentary, while sometimes glum, still evokes the sweetness of 1985 at Mahopac High School.

The past hangs on us in such deep ways. At times, we desperately want the past. We try not to live in it and fail. Thus we get branded as the old man yelling at a cloud.

On the other hand, we're kind of OK here in the present. Oh, I wouldn't go back, we tell ourselves. And yet, are we better people now? I think we are. But, truly, are we?

And the future? Let's just not go there.

When I graduated from Mahopac in 1987, I knew I was content. I knew I'd never want to go back but I'd see it for what it was. That remains entirely true.

I'm happy to see the friends that I still see and it's never worked out for me to attend a reunion. I don't know if I'd enjoy going to one but I'm not against it.

I treasure the memories of the bowling team and the friends and the experiences and the laughs. Unlike Brian in The Breakfast Club, I only cared about grades enough to get out of high school.

Or college, for that matter.

I generally sat in class knowing that I didn't remotely care about trigonometry. 

The teachers who connected with me were the people. The ones who kept me engaged. The ones who saw us as people. Oh, they exist and I hope I'm one as an instructor.

But, memories aside, The Brat Pack itself was, ultimately, a vague term. Can you truly define which movies fall under the header? Can you say without a doubt who were the members of the group?

The Rat Pack, on the other hand, is pretty definitive. Sinatra, Dean Martin, Sammy Davis Jr., Peter Lawford, and Joey Bishop with a collection of others around. 

The Rat Pack was cool. Defined cool. The Brat Pack were ... brats. And that's the rub.

But is James Spader in The Brat Pack? Jon Cryer? Matthew Broderick? Michael J. Fox?

Lea Thompson calls herself "Brack Pack adjacent." I suppose that works.

Obviously, in the end, none of it matters.

I find myself just wanting to watch the movies and remember the time.

It doesn't have to be that difficult.