I watch The Breakfast Club for the first time, and muse upon the appeal of cult-classics.

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I watched The Breakfast Club yesterday for the first time, and I am sadly underwhelmed. I have to ask myself, will all cult classics withold their supposedly universal appeal from me? Perhaps this is an evil subplot to undermine my existence, created by cult-classic loving humans the world over.

Or not.

For the minority of the population who haven’t watched it, a group to which I belonged until yesterday, The Breakfast Club is about five teens, each representing a different step of the high school social ladder. At the top of the food chain are Andrew, the jock, and Claire, the princess. Next is John, the criminal. Then comes Brian, the brain, and last of all, is Allison, the basket case. (Their words, not mine). After spending a Saturday in detention, the five come together to form the Breakfast Club.

It’s a little strange, to start calling themselves the Breakfast Club, seeing as they meet only once during the duration of the movie nor do we see that they will meet again in the forseeable future. Only John has detention beyond that particular Saturday, and that was a result of his pigheadedness, which he carried on to such an extent as to deserve it fully. Earning yourself a month’s worth of detention over the course of a few minutes is the result of real dedication. That is a talent, right there. Go John.

But of course, we cannot judge these misfits, for each has his own dark backstory, each of which is revealed as they smoke a joint together, with the exception of Allison. She doesn’t need pot to start sharing her life with virtual strangers. She’s just weirdly open like that.

They all pair off at the end, because this is a teen movie and that’s what happens in teen movies. John and Claire become a couple, and so do Allison and Andrew. Brian is left alone, but it doesn’t look like he minds very much. I’m fairly baffled by Claire choosing John, as he bullied her mercilessly. I suppose we are to believe that Claire has previously unsuspected wisdom and maturity buried beneath her pink birthday cake facade, and understands that John’s bullying was a result of jealousy.

The Breakfast Club is yet another movie whose appeal I cannot fathom. There is one silver lining, however. At least it’s better than Mean Girls.

Image Credit: earlsmithstrand.org
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