Brats

Engaging documentary from actor Andrew McCarthy on the participants in the popular teen movies of the 1980s--actors who are now pushing 60--and how the label "Brat Pack" (taken from the headline in a 1985 New York Magazine article by David Blum, who is interviewed) was possibly a brand, a stigma, a curse, or maybe something special, something that other actors of the time aspired to be a part of. McCarthy, once a pseudo-self-conscious, aloof and somewhat constipated young movie star, took the inspiration for this project from his autobiography, "Brat: An '80s Story"; his feeling for the past 30 years that the term "Brat Pack" was a scathing slap at a certain group of young Hollywood talent circa 1985 isn't unjustified, but his personal wounds--and the sometimes mixed feelings of his contemporaries--are put into perspective here in quickie-therapeutic fashion (aided in its presentation by a bevy of vintage TV clips and interviews). One of the first questions posed is: who was actually in the Brat Pack? I always felt it pertained to select members of the cast of 1985's "St. Elmo's Fire" (not everyone, of course; there's no mention of Mare Winningham, for instance). There's also some suspense in McCarthy's rounding up of interviewees, particularly reluctant stars Molly Ringwald and Judd Nelson (both of whom decline the invitation). "Brats" isn't investigative journalism; McCarthy is out to heal personal and professional wounds, and he wants perspective in his journey from Emilio Estevez, Demi Moore, Rob Lowe, Jon Cryer, Ally Sheedy, Lea Thompson, Timothy Hutton, writers, producers and directors. McCarthy insists he is not sentimental and he is not nostalgic--but "we" are, and the general catharsis is almost real. **1/2 from ****

Like most Gen X, I grew up with the brat pack so this was an interesting look back at the actors and how the name originated.

A lot of the interviews become quite awkward as we see Andrew spend the entire documentary basically lamenting the brat label as though it ruined their lives. Emilio Estevez looks nothing short of uncomfortable as he stands there barely getting a word in other than politely nodding and agreeing.

Malcolm Gladwell's section was quite interesting as he offered some great insight into why the Breakfast Club was as popular as it was, pointing out how there was no social media at the time and the movie was one of the first to show 80s kids something they felt genuinely represented them, and how the idea of being brats was cool to them. The producer Lauren Shulee Donner adds to this idea, finally getting Andrew to see that Brat Pack was something seen as cool to teenagers, while Andrew seems to have spent his life being negatively defined by this term.

The idea was interesting. But the documentary sometimes took itself too seriously, and sometimes was too flippant. It could be overly harsh and other times too forgiving. It would have been good to hear how lives were specifically changed, but instead talked around what happened so no one would be labeled as bitter or brooding.

One poignant point was how movies had changed in the early/mid 80s to be youth oriented with movies about teenagers and played by younger actors. It created a swelling of new, young stars never seen to that degree before or since.

The focus was on a hit piece article by an envious reporter that labeled them "the brat pack." It was supposed to be article on what it was like hanging out with Emilio Estavez for a few days before it was morphed into a scathing denunciation of an entire group. The article was pretty sloppy in its writing and tried to tar and feather as many people as possible, including Nicholas Cage and Tom Cruise.

It changed the lives of all the actors. They stopped talking to each or seeing each other to distance themselves from the insinuation. But the damage was done. The label went "viral" before that was a term and for a group that was already getting older and would be looking for more adult roles, many found a wall they didn't expect and didn't know how to overcome.

Many of the actors most deeply immersed in the time weren't interviewed. Some in the documentary were barely on the outskirts. And again what was truly missing was the nitty gritty of how it impacted rather than hearing again and again versions of wow, that was really something and quite an experience. How did it feel to break contact? What was it like going to movie auditions after that? Had the public reaction change? How did it change their lives?

That was the part that was missing.

Andrew McCarthy makes an earnest attempt to put his own struggles with what I always just assumed was a convenient turn of the Sinatra and friend's super cool "Rat Pack" nickname, into an 80s-ready contrivance for a hack reporter to weild as a cudgel against a coterie of successful actors who were younger and more talented than he was, to rest.

And in the end McCarthy does seem to make peace with the 'Brat Pack' moniker and its implications.

Along the way we find out that a few of those talented young actors allowed it to define their very careers and one or two of them are convinced it changed the entire trajectory of their professional lives.

A far more important consideration should be writer/director, John Hughes, and the impact on the Brat Pack's careers and the films that he made that many would agree, defined a generation.

Someone may have already delved into the Hughes' genius and the legacy he left for us to enjoy.

First of all, no one read the stupid article and knew whether it was being critical of the kid actors. This was before the internet so an article in New York Magazine wasn't read nationwide. The name stuck as it was easy to remember because it plagiarized the other pack. The article (I just read it for the first time a minute ago) is total crap and if it weren't for the name he coined, no one would have ever spoken of those few thousand words again. It was nothing more or less than a hatchet job by a journalist who probably wanted to sleep with one of them.

It's ironic that the one I despised the most in this group as an actor and the one with the most punchable face, Andrew McCarthy, has had an interesting career lately as a travel writer and now this film. I haven't read anything he's written so I'm beginning with his memoir of walking the Camino de Santiago with his son.

Nothing much of anything is revealed in this film. Once upon a time there was an article written that coined the name. The supposed members of this Brat Pack, young actors, made a bunch of films dealing with young people. There was never much to this story and thus not much more can be said about it all these years later.

The film itself is awkward at times with way too much time inside of a car, too many shots of the film crew lurking around in the background, and there wasn't much at all of what their lives were like 40 years ago.

The strangest thing I learned from the film was that none of them were even friends and haven't had any contact with each other in all these years. It just seems like they'd at least call once in a while to comment on a recent project they had finished, either to compliment each other or ask if they knew about it. In the end, they weren't any sort of pack at all.