 |
| Writer/director John Hughes |
 |
| ensemble cast |
 |
| Hughes on the set |
 |
| John Hughes and Molly Ringwald |
 |
| John Hughes and Judd Nelson |
 |
| Hughes with his cast |
THE BREAKFAST CLUB A- USA (97 mi) 1985 d: John Hughes
“And these children that you spit on as they try to change their worlds; are immune to your consultations, they are quite aware of what they are going through.” —David Bowie
Even after nearly 40 years, this remains among the smartest and most refreshing teen comedies out there, written and directed by John Hughes, partially filmed at Glenbrook North High School where he grew up, including the school interior and football field, while the Maine North High School exterior and library are utilized. While it remains something of a time capsule, as it accurately depicts a suburban reality without any traces of racial diversification, nonetheless it stands out because for the most part it vividly fills the empty spaces in a movie about kids where absolutely nothing happens, relying almost exclusively on dialogue and performances, which uses a combination of near 1930’s screwball comedy timing mixed with some unique ideas about teenagers, who appear perfectly within their element in this film, nothing perfunctory or stereotypical, even though there were roles chosen to represent certain cliques that probably still exist at high schools. Opening with the Bowie quote as Simple Minds “Don’t You Forget About Me” blares over the soundtrack, The Breakfast Club • Don't You (Forget About Me) - YouTube (4:24), five high school kids arrive at school promptly at 7 am on a Saturday morning to spend 8 hours sitting quietly at their desks in a library doing nothing while serving detention for some minor infraction, or so it was written. Paul Gleason as the bullying teacher reads them the riot act, which is nothing less than his pathetic attempt to take charge of a situation that is largely beyond his control, as it’s soon evident that the teacher is on detention as well, spending the entire day alone in a cramped office directly across the hall. Despite having the authority, there’s no question that he’s got it worse, and his belligerent attitude towards kids reflects how little he really understands. In the void of silence, Hughes hones in on the quirky things that kids do alone when they’re bored, like play with their hair or watch others, while Judd Nelson, brilliant as the obnoxious John Bender, starts things off by getting on people’s nerves. Initially rebuffed by the other kids for being a jerk, their feelings about him soon change when he removes the screws and closes the door, shutting the teacher out entirely, which they all seem to appreciate, then sticking together in solidarity when the teacher accuses Bender, who’s apparently a repeat offender, but can’t get anyone to confess. In his apparent frustration, the teacher is all over Bender in this charade of authority that’s closer to abuse, as he continually ticks off extra days of detention that Bender will have to serve because of his snot-nosed attitude.
The other students include Molly Ringwald as the perfectly coiffed Claire, known as the prom queen or the princess, who’s in detention because she ditched school to go shopping, Emilio Estevez as Andrew, who’s a jock on the varsity wrestling team, but only because he’s goaded by his father, Anthony Michael Hall as Brian, the geeky brain, who especially in the opening moments is nothing less than hilarious, as the things that come babbling out of this kid’s mouth are surprisingly comical because the truth feels so out of place, and finally the silent one, Ally Sheedy as Allison, a girl who never utters a word for the first half of the film, huddled under her dark overcoat hiding her face most of the time, sitting in the back safely out of range. Slowly the others come out of their shells, largely due to the well-placed insults by Bender, who sarcastically makes fun of everyone, but surprisingly, he’s right on target most of the time, which is the amazing aspect of this film. Like a playwright, Hughes’ writing is relentlessly precise. Everyone wants to be left alone, no one wants to say anything or stand out, but when forced to, because of a direct confrontation by another student, they have to react, and in doing so, reveal a tiny piece of themselves. This is uniquely original, as it’s all done with well-written dialogue that shows amazing insight into the lives of teenagers, who are actually taken seriously for a change. This is so unusual that the kids themselves are not used to it either. Bender is like the unpleasantly manipulative stage director who forces people to feel uncomfortable by hurling at them a neverending stream of personal insults, some of which are so hurtful that others must come to their defense. In this manner, the kids get to know one another, as time passes slowly in a grandiose library that emulates the spacious design of a modern art museum. The empty spaces to fill remain perpetually out of reach, a metaphor for the immensity of the suburban landscape, far removed from the squalid factories and overpopulated working centers of urban America, where these kids are surrounded by an immaculately constructed world that was built for a future just waiting just for them.
There are quite a few standout scenes as the movie becomes a metamorphosis for change, perhaps best represented by Ally Sheedy’s transformation, as in the course of the day, each one is identified by their manner of dress, their popularity, sexual exploits, social habits, monetary class, conformism, or how they act around their friends. Brian is such a geek that he’s on a first name basis with the janitor, which in high school is viewed as so the wrong thing to do. What they bring for lunch comes under close scrutiny, especially by Bender who brought nothing, as it reveals tons about each person. When Bender pulls out his stash of pot, time has already stopped, so it doesn’t get any slower, but it brings them closer together, as what comes out of people’s mouths is somewhat different than what we heard before, sounding more like personal confessions, the kind of rarely heard truths uttered by teenagers. At one point, the thought of becoming like their parents makes Claire want to vomit, but Allison, who’s finally joined the human race, perceptively announces that it’s inevitable, because “When you grow up, your heart dies.” Now this isn’t some fortune cookie philosophy, this is a profound revelation. What these characters reveal is how intensely sensitized kids are at this age, when they are acutely aware of their surroundings, of every boy and girl they see, where everything has consequences. Everything seems to mean something. Love has a completely different connotation than at any other time in their lives, because it’s brand spanking new, because it’s never happened before. The love these kids are looking for is so open ended, it’s exquisitely filled with a world of possibilities. They still have hope, because they have not yet learned to be defeated by their jobs, by their routines, by the necessities of life that can literally beat you down and leave you sitting alone at the curb wondering how it all disappeared so quickly. This is what’s so beautiful about this film, as despite the licking that Bender gives each and every one, not to mention the abuse he undergoes by the teacher, they still feel fascinated by one another, friends even, puzzled that there’s any interest at all, as yesterday, who’d of thought it? And tomorrow, who knows what will happen? There’s a brilliant sequence where Brian the whiz kid asks that exact same question, and what he discovers is a heartbreakingly authentic moment. It’s perhaps the question of the film. Can people change? The answer hangs in the balance, as the rest of their life awaits them. Interestingly, it’s John Hughes himself that plays Brian’s father picking him up in the car afterwards. Life goes on and tomorrow never knows.
Breakfast Club essay,
written after the death of fellow high school classmate, John Hughes (August 6, 2009)
While I think it’s interesting that sociologists would attempt to break down the structure of the Breakfast Club and then apply similar principles to various other social settings, in other words make it meaningful. Actually this has already been done in Reality TV shows, which continually stick people from different backgrounds together in small Breakfast Club-style groups and ask that they work together in order to achieve a common goal. I’m thinking of The Apprentice, Survivor, and any number of these Big Brother House shows where they stick people together under one roof & watch what happens.
But as far as the film goes, this omits one major factor. Other than the essay assignment which they all ignored — no one wrote 1000 words — so one huge factor that helped bring this group together was the prospects of spending the entire day with absolutely nothing to do. For high school kids, the idea of being bored is paramount to death, as in their lives, nothing could be worse. This detention, which is based upon the idea of kids spending 8 hours doing nothing, reflects how society sees them — as completely worthless, so it’s only natural that this is what they have to rebel against. What made the movie interesting is how they decided to fill those empty spaces so they didn’t feel worthless.
The problem with the Breakfast Club method in other applications is that you’d have to find something relevant for them to do, such as the suggestions to work together on a political campaign or in a nursing home. While this may make sense as a sociological experiment, it is not really the same. In The Apprentice, for instance, because they are trying to succeed at a specific goal, such as make more money than another group that is doing something similar, they deflect their own individuality in order to work for a common goal, as there is a higher purpose involved. Accordingly, they don’t spend time getting to know one another. On the contrary, they spend time being suspicious of one another because their ultimate goal is to win the prize, so they undermine and back stab one another, principles that apparently work in the capitalistic society, suggesting this is what you have to do to get the jump on the next guy.
In The Breakfast Club movie, the beauty of it was they didn’t have any assignment whatsoever. Without a task involved, or any specific purpose, from the viewer’s perspective, this is completely open ended how we choose to view this, as it’s basically a blank slate, like a blank piece of paper to a writer. Hughes then fills those empty spaces with common insights into the teenage experience, as these kids are allowed to express themselves pretty much as teenagers really do express themselves. They go on power trips, develop attitudes, try to impress, harp on negatives, feel sorry for themselves, hide secrets, drop out altogether, claim they don’t care, blame others, continually criticize others, whether it’s the school itself or their parents or even each other, and what works is that they use language that sounds like teenagers. This isn’t a documentary, but it accurately reflects a slice of life, much like say Thirteen does, which is a much more action-oriented thrill ride into the world of teenage woes. Both are authentic. But The Breakfast Club is more Chekhovian, as it takes its time with these kids and gives them each A Chorus Line moment, allowing them to expound on their personal experience. In this way it’s not manipulative or formulaic, but open to suggestions and ideas. Each opens a door to a particular side of themselves that had otherwise been slammed shut.
It is interesting to wonder what will happen when they return to school again. I’m of the opinion that people move into cliques where they feel most comfortable, the shopper hangs with other shoppers, the geek with other geeks, the jock with fellow jocks - - this is not rocket science. Also, typically, blacks hang with other blacks, Hispanics speak Spanish with other Hispanics, etc. So it’s likely each will return to their same cliques. I didn’t really buy the girlfriend/boyfriend angle, as that did feel manipulative, like they’re intentionally making this more hopeful than it really is. I preferred to take the view that they will remain who they are, in the same groups, but with greater insight into themselves. That means Claire may speak up every once in awhile in her group when previously she didn’t. Like for instance, this “That’s so gay” campaign. That would be a perfect example of how she might speak up, or if a girl friend had an abusive relationship, either at home or with another guy. Here as well, her added experience makes it more likely she will be a better friend. The jock may stand up to his old man, and hell, may quit the wrestling team, though that’s unlikely, because it’s something he’s so successful at. The geek will continue to get good grades. Failing Shop is not the norm, getting A’s is the norm. He’ll run off to a good college and get a decent job. But the geek will say hello to everyone in the hallways, as if they’re friends. I’m of the opinion that they won’t be friends, but they will acknowledge one another with a knowing smile and will not show disrespect to one another after this event. Bender will still be abused at home, will continue on a criminal path, & will likely just get himself into more trouble with the police unless there’s an intervention of some kind. This kid may never finish high school, which is rare in the white suburbs, unless he finds someone or something that will challenge him. It could be a girl, it could be a certain teacher or counselor that really connects. But this guy is really openly hostile. Allison’s future is completely open ended, as she had no ulterior motive whatsoever other than to be accepted, which she finally was. She’s pretty enough that she could be the prom queen, but her social skills are so nonexistent that hanging out in the Art department is more like it. She could be a writer, as she has a rare interest in observation.
So I guess I concluded that each would have their own personal nirvana moment, like Siddhartha, and gain from it what insight they could, but that as a social group they would continue on separate paths. Unfortunately, the practical applications of The Breakfast Club is likely only in the arts, like A Chorus Line, or Who’s Afraid of Virginia Woolf, The Iceman Cometh, or any number of personal confession works, where there’s a poetic beauty in the way these personal revelations are revealed to an audience. For me, obviously, The Breakfast Club had more impact as a modern day play, one of the few where the heightened sensitivities of teenagers at that age was in fact the drama, not some action sequence or other contrivance, but simply the rare moment in kid’s lives when the world is whirling around them at a faster pace than at any other time in their lives. It’s about time someone noticed. That for me was the beauty of the film.
