This one line from P.J. O’Rourke’s remembrance of John Hughes made me stop what I was reading and come right over here to post, while the horror was still fresh:
Imagine, painfully, a 2015 remake of The Breakfast Club.
…and that’s why P.J. O’Rourke is, well, P.J. O’Rourke.
*shudder*
.
.
Also – don’t give that evil town any ideas!
I was told there would be more?
Denial, don’t fail me now….
.
Mew
Will there be trigger warnings?
If so, the whole movie fails.
Because tripping over warning lines is, actually, the point.
Boundaries, growth, pushing past boundaries so that there is some growth; busting out of cocoons, seeing – dimly – something farther and higher away.
Growing up is hard. Play-Doh safe places makes that impossible.
The Breakfast Club was about starting to grow up.
It couldn’t be much worse than the first one.