Brats

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.

Some young actors once celebrated as The Brat Pack, which sounded very cool to us normal kids back then,whine and complain about having been called that name, because it killed their carreers? Oh please, really? Other actors have been labelled this or that, they moved on and proved themselves, and that was it. Nobody thinks of Robert Pattison as the vampire boy anymore, and Kristen Stewart is a regular of independent films. Demi Moore went on to become a very successful A-lister, same for Tom Cruise. If success failed for some others that was probably for other reasons. Also,those films made them very famous opened more doors, made them rich. I loved Breakfast Club, Sixteen Candles,The Outsiders and many others. I think they should instead be celebrating the success they had with them, all the young hearts they touched, and how they are still remembered by their legacy.

This documentary hit me like a ton of bricks. The soundtrack, the movie scenes , seeing the guys. I was never able to describe why loved these movies so much but listening to the folks in the film explain why these films were so important to them 100% made me feel like they were speaking for me. To those that gave this film a negative review, it's obvious that you weren't around during those years. This documentary made me want to watch all those movies all over again for the first time. I feel sorry for this generation, you guys can't even spell nostalgia without expecting help from Google translate. Great film.

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 ****