HughBennie-777 Review of St. Elmo's Fire

St. Elmo's Fire (1985)

Remarkably Unsympathetic Portrayal of Post-College Angst

[18 July 2010]

Other than the buck-naked, obese man who appears in the movie's opening emergency-room scene, this character study (in name only) of 80s Brat Pack, post-college, yuppie angst is almost as unrewarding as its modern-day counterpart, "He's Just Not That Into You". After a 15 minute dose of this WASPy mush of dysfunction, you'll be craving some Woody Allen Jewish neuroses bad. Is it the painful male/female bonding? The stilted dialogue? The uninteresting characters with their equally uninteresting character arcs? Or Andie MacDowell's teeth? And just how did this collection of dumbasses even graduate from Georgetown, especially Emilio Estevez, who shows less maturity than your average Ritalin-deprived 9 year old? You know a movie is weak when Rob Lowe gives the best performance as the reckless "rock n' roll rebel", this clearly evidenced by his earring and the saxophone he carries around (and unfortunately plays) in a nauseating band, Billy Hixx & The New Breed(!); more of a bottom-of-the-Arbys-dumpster, poor man's Eddie & The Cruisers. For soundtrack purposes alone, enjoy the DVD's supplementary music video "Man In Motion" - John Paar-- instead. There's bad acting across the board so incapable of arousing sympathy that by the time a blond and remarkably double-chinned Demi Moore (Demi Moore bulbous? Unthinkable) attempts suicide by opening her bedroom windows to FREEZE to death, you'll be desiring a rewatch on the John Paar video. Co-star Andrew McCarthy wins second prize--behind Wynona Ryder-- as the worst on screen smoker of the 1980s. Movie's ominous, black prostitute is easily the most riveting (and honest) character in the film.