St. Elmo's Fire, that quintessential 80's Brat Pack flick, is playing (for free!) over at Hulu. The story is not original--seven young adults navigate life and love after college--but the movie is nevertheless irresistable and the theme song a kickass anthem to chasing dreams and takin' names.
Ironically, I always thought Mare Winningham was terribly miscast as the mousy Jewish daughter of helicopter parents. (The mousy was believable; the Jewish, not so much.) Not only did she not look Jewish at all, the powers that be insisted on dressing her in WASPy Laura-Ashleyesque dresses. Well, the joke's on me, because a few years ago, Winningham actually DID convert to Judaism.
The end of the film has special meaning to me. (SPOILER) Winningham's character, Wendy, moves out on her own and expresses her unfettered joy in making a peanut butter sandwich in her new apartment. "It was my peanut butter, and my jelly. And it was the best peanut butter and jelly sandwich I ever had." That is the type of independence I strive for, that always seems out of reach. And then she has sex with Rob Lowe, which I guess might also be nice.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment