If you lived during the 80s there
is a very strong possibility that you knew of the Brat Pack. A loose coalition
of similarly-aged actors at the forefront of a teenage Hollywood revolution, members
of the Pack starred in a handful of groundbreaking films that defined a
generation, from The Breakfast Club to St. Elmo's Fire to Pretty
in Pink. But apparently the phrase “Brat Pack” was reductive, and if you
didn’t know that then Andrew McCarthy, himself an alum of the rowdy crew of
misfits as well as the director of Hulu’s new original documentary Brats,
will spend an hour and a half of your life telling you so.
Ostensibly
a documentary chronicling the careers and lives of the titular Pack, Brats
is much more of a therapeutic journey for McCarthy as he grapples with the
label that was thrust upon him. The chip that is always present on his shoulder
is the true star of the documentary, presenting itself even when it makes for
awkward viewing (the interview with Emilio Estevez is particularly painful). Some
of the other Brats clearly didn’t see the big deal he was making of the label,
no matter how many times McCarthy insists otherwise, and in many ways the
documentary feels like a thesis statement in search of validation, rather than
a conclusion reached naturally through supporting evidence. Andrew McCarthy
believes that the phrase “Brat Pack” derailed his career, which is, on its
face, a thing that can be sympathized with, and it may even be true. But it’s
hard to take his complaints too seriously when he is interviewing his fellow
Brats (some of which have had very respectable careers post-80s, such as Rob
Lowe and Demi Moore) in their giant, beautiful houses. Many kids would have
killed to be in the Brat Pack at the height of their fame, and here you are complaining
that things didn’t go exactly your way because of a relatively harmless
nickname? It’s self-indulgent and, dare I say, a bit bratty.
Brats has some occasionally interesting
moments outside of McCarthy’s labeling complaint, such as when the issue of
racial representation (or the lack thereof, to be more accurate) in 80s
coming-of-age films arises, or the discussion of the importance of music in the
Brat Pack films, but these moments are always superficial and skin-deep. It
always comes back to the phrase “Brat Pack” being bad, and it’s just very hard
to care. To paraphrase Rob Lowe, the person who seems to have the best
perspective on these things, this isn’t a cure for cancer we’re talking about
here; we’re talking about a handful of classic films and the nitpicks of the
very lucky people who made them. Brats is the ultimate exercise in
whining about first-world problems, and this hardly makes for interesting viewing.
If you’re not already a fan of these films you won’t care, and if you are then Brats
might just leave a bad taste in your mouth. I say skip it.
Brats is now available on Hulu.
This
review was first published in the Keizertimes on July 19th, 2024.
Visit at www.keizertimes.com.
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