Thirty years ago this month, the brain became the hero, the princess gave the basket case a makeover, and the jock fell in one-day lust with a girl who went to Saturday detention for fun.
Thirty years ago, Judd Nelson raised his fist on an deserted football field, symbolizing the quiet triumph of the underdog.
That’s right, “The Breakfast Club”, a Brat Pack classic, is 30 years old.
It was only about ten years ago, though, that I first saw the film. I proceeded to watch it countless times after that, turning myself into the fan I am today. My twelve-year-old self was captured by its honesty and crass humor. It was a window to life in the 80s, a picture of the characters that roamed the halls of high schools across the country.
Like most first-time Breakfast Club viewers, I laughed and cried and cringed at all the right moments.
One thing I did not do was look for Black actors, or any other actors of color for that matter. I also did not miss them.
At the age of 12, I was not confused about why there were zero people who looked like me on screen for the entire 97 minutes. Neither were my older siblings, at ages 15 and 18. Even my parents made no mention of the all-white cast – they did, however, remind us that the only reason I was allowed to watch was because AMC cut out the vulgar parts.
We had no reaction to the whiteness of “The Breakfast Club” because, frankly, it was made in 1985.
Sandwiched between “Sixteen Candles” and “Pretty in Pink”, the only other Molly Ringwald films I’d seen by then, The Breakfast Club had a view of diversity that was typical of that time and that type of film. Difference, for these teens, was defined by the amount of money their parents had. That dictated how they dressed, who they were friends with, and even who they said hello to in the halls.
Thirty years ago, Judd Nelson raised his fist on an deserted football field, symbolizing the quiet triumph of the underdog.
That’s right, “The Breakfast Club”, a Brat Pack classic, is 30 years old.
It was only about ten years ago, though, that I first saw the film. I proceeded to watch it countless times after that, turning myself into the fan I am today. My twelve-year-old self was captured by its honesty and crass humor. It was a window to life in the 80s, a picture of the characters that roamed the halls of high schools across the country.
Like most first-time Breakfast Club viewers, I laughed and cried and cringed at all the right moments.
One thing I did not do was look for Black actors, or any other actors of color for that matter. I also did not miss them.
At the age of 12, I was not confused about why there were zero people who looked like me on screen for the entire 97 minutes. Neither were my older siblings, at ages 15 and 18. Even my parents made no mention of the all-white cast – they did, however, remind us that the only reason I was allowed to watch was because AMC cut out the vulgar parts.
We had no reaction to the whiteness of “The Breakfast Club” because, frankly, it was made in 1985.
Sandwiched between “Sixteen Candles” and “Pretty in Pink”, the only other Molly Ringwald films I’d seen by then, The Breakfast Club had a view of diversity that was typical of that time and that type of film. Difference, for these teens, was defined by the amount of money their parents had. That dictated how they dressed, who they were friends with, and even who they said hello to in the halls.
As a millennial, I should be enraged, saddened or at least baffled by this shallow definition of diversity, by the stark whiteness of the film. I should be confused at how a film could be a critically acclaimed depiction of 1980s high school life and exclude faces of color at the same time.
But I’m not. For some reason I do not look for myself in the Brat Pack, an all-star, all-white crew of actors who seemed to collectively appear in every 80’s classic.
That would not be the case if “The Breakfast Club”, or any other Brat Pack film, were made today.
In a 2016 version of the film, “Don’t You (Forget About Me)” would be an ironic reminder of all the non-white high school archetypes that had been forgotten – and the non-white actors who, once again, had been shut out of roles they were more than qualified to fill.
#OscarsSoWhite would be trending once again, an all-white group of delinquents serving as yet another reminder that Viola Davis was right, “you cannot win [awards] for roles that are simply not there.”
But I’m not. For some reason I do not look for myself in the Brat Pack, an all-star, all-white crew of actors who seemed to collectively appear in every 80’s classic.
That would not be the case if “The Breakfast Club”, or any other Brat Pack film, were made today.
In a 2016 version of the film, “Don’t You (Forget About Me)” would be an ironic reminder of all the non-white high school archetypes that had been forgotten – and the non-white actors who, once again, had been shut out of roles they were more than qualified to fill.
#OscarsSoWhite would be trending once again, an all-white group of delinquents serving as yet another reminder that Viola Davis was right, “you cannot win [awards] for roles that are simply not there.”
Thirty years ago we didn’t question why there were no people of color on screen. Today, we would expect people of color – in fact, people from a range of experiences – to have the leading roles. The cast of Breakfast Club 2016 would look quite different.
Brian, the brain, would seem to be a perfect role for Shameik Moore after his performance as Malcolm in “Dope”.
Shailene Woodley of “Divergent” series fame might seem like good pick for Claire. Her sweet face and quiet power are true to the princess persona, and her cropped haircut is just edgy enough for a 2016 It Girl.
One person who might not be so different in the 2016 rendition of The Breakfast Club would be the criminal, John Bender. The criminal might still be a white male from a broken home. But perhaps he would be harboring unrequited feelings for the male jock.
Maybe the basket case would fall in love with the princess and she would swap a diamond earring for a kiss.
Instead of cranking Karla DeVito’s “We Are Not Alone,” the cast might dance awkwardly around the library to the likes of Drake’s “Hotline Bling.”
Don’t get me wrong, I’m with Molly Ringwald on this one: I don’t want a “Breakfast Club” remake. I would imagine most true fans would want to classic to remain untouched. And if I’m being honest with myself, that list of ways to update the film makes me mildly nauseous.
Brian, the brain, would seem to be a perfect role for Shameik Moore after his performance as Malcolm in “Dope”.
Shailene Woodley of “Divergent” series fame might seem like good pick for Claire. Her sweet face and quiet power are true to the princess persona, and her cropped haircut is just edgy enough for a 2016 It Girl.
One person who might not be so different in the 2016 rendition of The Breakfast Club would be the criminal, John Bender. The criminal might still be a white male from a broken home. But perhaps he would be harboring unrequited feelings for the male jock.
Maybe the basket case would fall in love with the princess and she would swap a diamond earring for a kiss.
Instead of cranking Karla DeVito’s “We Are Not Alone,” the cast might dance awkwardly around the library to the likes of Drake’s “Hotline Bling.”
Don’t get me wrong, I’m with Molly Ringwald on this one: I don’t want a “Breakfast Club” remake. I would imagine most true fans would want to classic to remain untouched. And if I’m being honest with myself, that list of ways to update the film makes me mildly nauseous.
This is why the lack of diversity in this and many other film classics does not trouble me. In 1985, the main characters at Shermer High School in Shermer, Illinois were all white, cisgender teens. When “Mean Girls” was set in nearby North Shore, Illinois in 2004, there were still no main characters of color, but the Hot Asians and Unfriendly Black Hotties were present – and had speaking roles.
Now, 30 years after John Hughes’ classic and 12 years after Tina Fey’s, we still look to filmmakers to use the big screen for commentary on life events as age-old and universal as high school. But in 2016, I am proud to say, the audience for these films views intersectionality as a requirement for that commentary instead of as an afterthought.
It is true that #BreakfastClubSoWhite, but I would not have it any other way. Hopefully in 30 years, we will be able to look back on classics that did not have to choose between representation and critical acclaim.
Now, 30 years after John Hughes’ classic and 12 years after Tina Fey’s, we still look to filmmakers to use the big screen for commentary on life events as age-old and universal as high school. But in 2016, I am proud to say, the audience for these films views intersectionality as a requirement for that commentary instead of as an afterthought.
It is true that #BreakfastClubSoWhite, but I would not have it any other way. Hopefully in 30 years, we will be able to look back on classics that did not have to choose between representation and critical acclaim.