“Don’t youuuuu, forget about me, Don’t, don’t, don’t, don’t, don’t . . .
”. If you watched The Breakfast Club as a teen, chances are you’ve had that Simple Minds song living rent-free in your brain for the better part of three decades. Hearing it, you’re probably transported to the time and place you first watched the seminal 80s flick, no doubt thinking of all the actors who starred in that and all those other John Hughes flicks we all loved — St Elmo’s Fire, Pretty in Pink, The Outsiders .
. . what a time to be alive.
Back then, that assorted crew of hot young things were known as The Brat Pack, a term I’ve not had pause to think about until dipping in to check out Andrew McCarthy’s brilliant new doco. I now realise this moniker was unwanted by almost all of them. In the film, McCarthy reunites with his old co-stars, Emilio Estevez, Rob Lowe, Ally Sheedy and Demi Moore — Brat Pack royalty — to discuss what it meant to be a part of this group of actors.
Almost all of them hated the association, which really only came about after a New York Magazine journalist spent time profiling Estevez. The resulting article is dismissive, pejorative and, well, just downright mean. Still, we didn’t care back then, we loved them all regardless, aspiring to be everything we thought they personified.
It’s fascinating to spend time with them again after all these years, getting their take on what the whole phenomenon meant to them personally. It truly is an .