Let the healing begin, Andrew.
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.
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.
- jaymakak
- Jun 12, 2024