Habit Patterns

Whatever you may have to say about the majority of the ephemeral films made between the 1930's and 1960's, believe it or not, they actually had good intentions. Even if the messages they tried to convey were complete loads of garbage, they actually meant well. This is not one of them. In fact, it's so repulsive, it might even make a good argument for book and film burning.

We open in a typical 1950's teenage girl's bedroom, to see our young damsel in distress sobbing uncontrollably. All of the sudden a voice speaks to her from out of nowhere with condescending scorn and says, "It's a little late for tears, isn't it, Barbara?" What could be so horrible to make this poor girl in tears leaning against her closet door with her room all messed up? Was she duped into a gang-bang by a gang of greasers? Did she get wait-listed for the college of her choice? Is she being forced into an arranged marriage? No, according to the narrator, she had a bad time a party because she was "unprepared."

The movie flashes back to when she had trouble getting up for school, and compares her to her neighbor Helen, who woke up on time with no trouble, had all the clothes and stuff she was going to wear planned since at least last night. Barbara on the other hand struggles to find the clothes she wanted, and deals with her stained sweater by wrapping a scarf around her neck to cover it up. Then we're back to Helen, with her father, Mr. Elliot, and her unnamed mother, all three of them having a peaceful breakfast together. "All three enjoy Mr. Elliot's comments on the news." Well, good for Helen. Maybe Barbara's not as lucky. Maybe her dad is a communist sympathizer, or a blowhard segregationist, and she has no desire to listen to his crap in the morning. This leads to another issue; The movie praises Helen for making plans around her day, but blasts Barbara for not doing it, without considering the possibility that she may have learned not to make plans because her plans might've been constantly squashed by the ones made by the adults in her life. Later, Helen's dad drives her to school, while Barbara's dad only drives her little brother. "You used to enjoy that drive too." Well, what changed, lady? Was it Barbara? Was it her dad? Or did she somehow start to think it was embarrassing having your dad drive her to school? Of course, it doesn't matter, because she rushes to eat whatever breakfast she can before running out the door to school. "You made a pretty picture with your rumpled skirt, your spotted sweater, and your hair in a tizzy," the narrator says as she runs from the breakfast table. Well, believe it or not Mrs. Stuck-Up, I LIKE her hair. If you think it's "in a tizzy," you'll hate the 1980's.

Late for school, she sits next to Helen, and gets a little too self-conscious. Worse than that, she drums her fingers on the desk! OH NO! In spite of all that both girls are invited to a party by some girl named Ann. Barbara hopes that party will be the path to social acceptance, but when she's there, she's left out of every conversation, and our narrator is quick to blame her. "You never got into the habit of reading books?" Or maybe she just wasn't into the same kinds of books her peers were reading. "You added nothing to the conversation." Really, narrator? Or is it that they just didn't want what she had to add? Then she hears another pair of girls, talking about a concert. One girl even says she likes the music, but finds the concert "too long-haired." Didn't they say that about the greasers? Too long haired, you say? I've got four names for you, girl; Jim Morrison, Ray Manzarek, Robby Krieger, and John Densmore. "You've never taken an interest in music or politics or art." Ever think that maybe she might not have had THE SAME musical, artistic, or political interests? And then when she tries to join the conversation, the narrator berates her for interrupting. "Conversation is a two-way street. But for you, it's either one way or a dead end." Hey lady, how do you know Barbara didn't WANT IT to be a two way street?! I didn't call that narrator a bitch for no reason! I called her one because she's mean-spirited, condescending, ignorant, stuck-up, and ultimately full of herself! If you didn't hate these kinds of movies before, you will. Of course none of that matters, because the movie returns to the present with Barbara crying in her messy bedroom, and phony and unrealistic advice on how she can live better, assuming it'll actually do her any good after that disaster of a party.

As repulsive as this film may seem, I actually wouldn't mind seeing a parody of it. I'd go so far as to recommend Kali Rocha playing this universally hated narrator, and I like Kali Rocha! Hell, maybe Dove Cameron could even play "Barbara," or someone like her.

In the meantime, cheer up, Barbara. Because about ten years after you graduate from high school, you will enter a world where it doesn't really matter if you're as prim and proper as Helen. You can let your hair droop around your shoulders like you have now, go outside without being excessively made-up and still be recognized as a woman, have a wrinkle or two in your blouse without feeling bad about yourself, and you can throw a middle finger at the voice of the woman who chastises you for not being like your neighbor.

This short educational film makes a good basic point: get into the habit of taking care of your clothes and yourself, and read a book now and then. Unfortunately, the instructions come from an all-seeing, all-knowing voice that reminds me of Imelda Staunton playing the creepy and malicious Dolores Umbridge in the Harry Potter moves. It's all your fault, dear, because you don't try. If you only got in the habit of doing everything right, then people would like you. But you're a slovenly, lazy girl.

Offered in the sweetest and most reasonable tone of voice, of course. No, this would send me crying too, and I mostly don't care what other people think.