Another Preamble Disclaimer: If you have not seen John Hughes' The Breakfast Club (1985) enough times, this post will probably not be very interesting :-)
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Personal Investment:
Fewer devoted John Hughes fans exist in the world than I. I literally grew up on a steady media diet of his movies. I probably watched Sixteen Candles first --when I was in first or second grade. It taught me about "cool." There were the undisputed cool kids (Jake Ryan, Caroline Mulford, and their rich, hard partying friends); there were the aspiring cool kids (Samantha Baker, Randy, and there muted middle crowd), and the undisputed uncool kids (Farmer Ted, Bryce, Cliff, Marlene, Long Duck Dong, and all other freshmen and kids on the bus). This movie, I can say without hesitation, was formative.
While Pretty in Pink (Hughes-produced, not directed) had a bit of edginess to it--poor kid dating rich kid with all the commensurate interferences that would issue in, out-of-work father and absent mother, etc.-- the menace was in and among the peer group, and the connection to the menacing agent was entirely voluntary. Andie, our nearly fearless protagonist, could have easily dispensed with the snobbishness and cruelty of the rich kids by merely keeping her previous distance, but she had a point to make: "I just want to let them know that they didn't break me."
Ferris Bueller's Day Off pitted the hero, Ferris, against the villain, Mr. Rooney, and taught us all: "Life moves pretty fast; if you don't stop and look around once in a while, you could miss it" (cue "Oh Yeah" by by Yello). The primary menace in this story is a fanatical Dean of Students, obsessed with his "ability to effectively govern this student body." Remove Ed Rooney from this plot line and there is no story--just a kid and his friends skipping school. Nobody cares.
The Breakfast Club always felt a little different. It's . . . dark. The film includes the usual elements of the John Hughes set up: the fictional Chicago suburb of "Shermer, Illinois," the epic battle of uncool (read: good) vs cool (read: evil), nearly absent adults, and a heartbreakingly honest rendering of the emotional lives of the young people at the center of the story.
Synopsis of Harm Done--All Armored Up:
The movie opens with five high school students being dropped off by their parents to attend an all-day "Saturday School" detention. In the opening voice over, these students are identified as "a brain, an athlete, a basket case, a princess, and a criminal." We have the smattering of the high school social landscape encompassed herein. Each of these, with the exception of the middle student who admits to "having nothing better to do," did something "serious" to warrant a Saturday detention: bringing a gun to school, bullying a weakling in a locker room, truancy, and pulling a false fire alarm, respectively. During drop off, we get a brief glimpse into the home lives of these students. Our princess, Claire ("it's a family name"), doesn't want to go in because she fears the "defectives" she will be among. She berates her father for not being able to "get [her] out of this." Mr. Standish, clad in his Burberry scarf and behind the wheel of his BMW, assures her that he'll "make it up to her" and that "ditching school to go shopping doesn't make [her] a defective," hands her her sushi lunch and wishes her a good day. Brian, the brain (a mildly clever anagram that doesn't exist in any other character's name) endures icier climes in his car. His mother demands in a stern tone, with the full support of Brian's younger sister, that he "figure out a way to study" while in detention. Meanwhile, Andrew, our athlete, is lectured by his father. Mr. Clark epitomizes the "apple doesn't fall far from the tree" euphemism. He is not disappointed in Andrew for torturing a weaker kid in a locker room assault--this is "screwing around" and what "guys" do; instead, he shames Andrew for getting caught and potentially blowing his college wrestling scholarship. We meet Allison, the basket case, and John, the criminal, next. Allison's invisible parent screeches to a stop as John walks with unbroken stride in front of their car. We discern later in the movie that John's home life is among the most precarious with parents who are verbally and physically abusive. Allison exits the car and stares through the passenger side window until the car drives off. So, we have three marginally engaged parents--seemingly concerned more with the ways in which their child's infraction reflects on them, and two kids whose parents are less present to the situation--perhaps because they are unsurprised by the occurrence of a Saturday detention. I hope it will suffice to say that there is a reason John Hughes begins with the parent-child interaction. It's the quickest way to show the "family of origin" demons that have formed the anti-social behavior for which the teens are being punished, and the ones they will return home to at the end of the day.
These five are seated in the school library according to status and visibility with Claire and Andrew occupying a front row table together, indicating a level of comfort and familiarity--they know each other. These two are the most effortlessly celebrated of the group: the prom queen and a star athlete. They deserve premier seating at this venue, and they know it. Their backs are to everyone. Brian initially takes the table behind them, but is displaced by John who tacitly insists Brian is sitting in his spot. Eager to please, Brian moves across to the table beside him. Their position indicates a "middle" status of aspiration. Brian, sitting at the table on the right side, identifies himself through a perfectionistic need to do everything . . . "right." John, sitting to the left, conversely identifies himself through an antagonistic need to do everything wrong. Lastly, Allison occupies the seat all the way in the back. Everyone's back is to her, presumably like it is at home, as she later reveals with her line, "They ignore me." Allison exhibits a simultaneous anti-social vibe coupled with a desperate craving for social contact. After all, she doesn't have to be there. She could be ignored in the privacy of her own home. As a "weirdo," she is at least guaranteed attention from her peers--which, for her, seems to be the start of some measure of comfort.
The film transitions into a "middle period" where stereotypes are reinforced, judgments articulated, offensive and defensive moves made. John then leads the group on a field trip to his locker to recover a bag of marijuana, then sacrifices himself to Mr. Vernon so the rest can safely return to the library.
Restorative Circle--All Guards Dropped:
With the aid of John's weed, the five students begin to be goofy and have fun together, which then allows passage into knowing each other on a deeper level than their external caricatures. Claire asks John about his love life, Andrew is curious about the contents of Brian's wallet, and Allison dumps out her purse and reveals her intention to run away from home and her parents who "ignore [her]."
Eventually, they are arranged in a circle, seated on the floor. The outer layers of clothing the kids came into the morning wearing have been shed and everyone is down to their base level. The conversation begins on a "fun" topic of "What would you do for a million dollars?" Claire nudges Andrew into a scenario where he would "drive to school naked." The conversation takes a turn after Allison hops in with a lie about being a "nymphomaniac" who sleeps with her therapist and ultimately (with the help of group pressure) forces a confession from Claire that the latter is a virgin. Claire becomes angry and confronts Allison about being "so weird." John becomes insulted by Brian who implies that only "dopes" take shop class and confronts the latter's condescending attitude about academic achievement. John also directly confronts Andrew and Claire during this scene for relishing in their social position and treating him like garbage. To the former, he repeats back to him words from earlier in the day: "I could disappear forever and it wouldn't make any difference. I may as well not even exist at this school, remember?" John then turns to Claire and unleashes the most venom of which he is capable and culminating with: "just stick to the things you know: shopping, nail polish, your father's BMW, and your poor--rich--drunk mother in the Caribbean! . . . Just bury your head in the sand and wait for your fuckin' prom!" Claire has an opportunity to take shots at Andy and John's hypocrisy during this time as well: "[to John] Why don't you take Allison to one of your heavy metal vomit parties, or take Brian out to the parking lot at lunch to get high, what about Andy for that matter? What about me? . . . they'd laugh their asses off and you would probably tell them you were doing it with me so they'd forgive you for being seen with me." Brian, who has been a peacemaker all day, finally confronts Claire about being "so conceited" and forces the room to see that, despite his high academic achievement, people pleasing sensibilities, and seemingly perfect home life (mockingly depicted by John earlier), his presence in detention was wrought by suicidal ideation after flunking a project in shop class. This circle conversation concludes, ultimately, in laughter when Brian reveals that the gun he brought to school was a flare gun that accidentally discharged in his locker destroying "that fuckin' elephant" and Allison confesses to not "hav[ing] anything better to do" than to come to detention.
What happens in this circle and why it is so critical to the healing process:
- the students who have been previously arranged in rows according to social status and visibility are now seated in a circle with equitable access to audience. They look at each other and speak directly to one another.
- they share openly and honestly (with the weird exception of Allison's fictional tale of nymphomania)--they confess their faults to the group and the harms they have caused others; they call out "bad" behavior and the ways in which they have been hurt by one another; most importantly, they empathize with each other.
- The shame that exists in and among social groups can only be healed with individuals within said groups who are willing to be vulnerable, honest, accountable, empathic, and forgiving.
