The Great 80’s: When the Coming-of-Age Film Finally Came of Age

In the world of Hollywood, it used to be that growing up only meant becoming a functional member of society.

Consider George Lucas’s American Graffiti (1973, Universal Pictures), the simple story of reckless high schoolers spending one more night cruising the strip before heading off into adulthood. While much of the story clearly centers on youngsters clinging to their fading youth, the undercurrent of the picture pushes them (and audiences) to look at what lay ahead – what their futures were going to be – and, as a consequence, respect what you’re leaving behind.

Here, the emphasis was on ‘tomorrow, tomorrow, tomorrow’ and what that meant as a role in society – be it college, marriage, or military service.  There was far less consideration given to how these characters could balance their dreams with their impending social responsibilities.

About a decade later, the themes of the average coming-of-age film had changed dramatically.

Few of the fans belonging to Firefly’s Adam Baldwin have ever seen much less heard of his debut performance in the stand-out My Bodyguard (1980, 20th Century Fox). The film starred young Chris Makepeace as Clifford, the ‘new kid’ at the local high school. Tired of being harassed by the resident bully, Clifford hires himself a bodyguard in the form of Linderman, the school’s outcast rumored to have killed his brother in cold blood. In spite of the capitalism at the heart of their relationship, Clifford and Linderman become friends, so much so that each inevitably pushes the other to become a bigger (and better) person by facing their own challenges instead of running away from them.

With My Bodyguard, the trials of adolescence and how they can deliberately or indirectly force us to come-of-age finally took center stage. To some extent, gone were the concerns for the greater society-at-large.  Instead, in their place, were our own thoughts, dreams, fears, hang-ups, and desires. Lessened (but never far away) were the expectations of our parents; in their place, teenagers were finally going after what they wanted, even if that was something as simple as feeling ‘safe’ from schoolyard heavies.

These sentiments were heavily amplified – granting them a greater likelihood to be embraced by the mainstream – in the Tom Cruise picture, Risky Business (1983, Warner Bros.). Cruise played Joel Goodsen (implied “good son”?), a Chicago teenager simply hoping for fun while his domineering parents were away. But Joel – even in his wildest dreams of seducing a comely lass while masturbating – can’t seem to catch a break as society keeps interrupting him, depicted theatrically with police officers surrounding the house while his mother pleads for him to “get off the babysitter.”

In Cruise’s capable hands (pun intended), Joel is a young man oppressed by the weight of his world.  Only when he realizes his freedom fulfill a dream in the film’s latter half – the ‘coming-of-age,’ so to speak – does he find inner peace along with outer coitus.

Still, it wasn’t until the late John Hughes put his imprint on the American teenage experience that these films truly morphed into what they remain today.

Sixteen Candles (1984, Universal Pictures) remains one of Hughes’ most quoted and beloved films. The story – part comedy, part farce – explores the life of Samantha Baker (a fetching Molly Ringwald). On the cusp of her sixteenth birthday, she suffers one humiliating experience after another, all the while simply trying to discover what her role in life will be. Is she a child? A sister? A daughter? A girlfriend? An outcast? Along the way, we’re treated to some wonderful laughs at her expense.  In the end, she’s finally awarded her coming-of-age experience by landing the boy of her dreams … even at the expense of losing her underwear to the school nerd (played by Anthony Michael Hall).

The very next year, Hughes recaptured the youth scene with his seminal The Breakfast Club (1985, Universal Pictures). Knowing a good thing when he saw it, Hughes re-enlisted Ringwald, this time casting her as the snobby Claire Standish; as well, he brought back Hall in the guise of a more everyman nerd, Brian Johnson. Along with a round-up of the hottest young actors of their generation, Hughes gifted them a story of these various social cliques colliding one Saturday morning for detention. Together, they discuss their worlds – their parents, their peers, their fears, and their dreams – and, together, they come to grips with the possibility of their evolution.

Monday morning, they may have reverted back to who they were before the weekend; but, so far as that one day in their lives was concerned, they came of age.

This trend continued strong over the next few years, taking on a life of its own in new creative ways. In Back to the Future (1985, Universal Pictures), Marty McFly finds a way to balance his dreams by time-traveling to his parents’ past in order to learn that, maybe, we’re really not all that different from our folks. In Vision Quest (1985, Warner Bros.), wrestling sensation Louden Swain can’t find the inspiration he needs to win a high school championship bout until he discovers manhood in the arms of a much older woman. And in Three O’Clock High (1987, Universal Pictures), the plot of My Bodyguard got a makeover, giving high school reporter Jerry Mitchell the unwelcome task of interviewing ‘the new kid on the block,’ a thug who’ll stop at nothing to pummel the nerd’s brains out. In one comic bit after another, Mitchell finds himself caught between the childish desire to flee and the adult impulse to go all Gary Cooper on the bully when the bells ring at three.

In many cases, these films ridicule the pressures of measuring up to social responsibilities. Yes, the expectation is there that these characters will do the right thing, but that ‘right thing’ is always measured against the characters’ personal wishes, dreams, and desires. Sure, it’s a delicate balance – it always will be – and that’s entirely characteristic of a healthy coming-of-age experience.

The trend continues to this day, and, to this writer’s delight, it’s even embraced on foreign shores.

You want to see some of the best coming-of-age movies being done today?

I’d encourage you to check out South Korea’s 2011 release Punch; Norway’s 2011 release Turn Me On, Dammit!; or France’s 2011 release Q (aka Desire). In their own ways, each film details the trials and tribulations of embracing what’s next for adolescents turning into adults.  Granted, they may not necessarily be to your liking (Q’s relatively heavily on sexual themes while Turn Me On and Punch are much closer stylistically to an everyman’s experiences), but I daresay they’ll still give you something to think about while putting a smile of reflection on your face.