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TIME: Almanac 1995
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<text id=89TT1013>
<title>
Apr. 17, 1989: Teen Life Ain't Worth Livin'
</title>
<history>
TIME--The Weekly Newsmagazine--1989
Apr. 17, 1989 Alaska
</history>
<article>
<source>Time Magazine</source>
<hdr>
CINEMA, Page 83
Teen Life Ain't Worth Livin'
</hdr><body>
<p>Two movies turn young angst into black comedy and pop music
</p>
<p>By Richard Corliss
</p>
<p> Where are the teenpix of yesterday? Gone with the
demographic wind. As the U.S. movie audience ages toward
thirtysomething, Hollywood has discarded the teen genre like so
many Molly Ringwald paper dolls. What's left? Only caustic
satire, as in the new black comedy Heathers, or retro fantasy,
as in Sing.
</p>
<p> At suburban Ohio's Westerburg High, a quartet of teen
princesses runs the school. They are called the Heathers,
because three of the four are named Heather. The fourth,
Veronica (Winona Ryder, pallid of face and sharp as Cheddar), is
at first pleased to be accepted by this "bunch of Swatch dogs
and Diet Coke heads. They're, like, people I work with, and
our job is being popular." Still, she is ready for a sinister
avenging force in her life, a juvenile delinquent, a James
Dean. He turns out to be J.D., a new boy in town who is itching
to make trouble (played by Christian Slater, handsomely
imitating Jack Nicholson's silky menace). Veronica may want to
get back at one of the nasty Heathers by dropping a phlegm glob
in her morning coffee, but J.D. has bigger plans. Soon this
Heather is dead, though she does reappear in a dream to whine
that "my afterlife is so boring! If I have to sing Kum Ba Yah
one more time . . ." Then J.D. dispatches two boorish jocks who
bugged Veronica. No loss, he shrugs: "Football season is over.
Kurt and Ram had nothing to offer the school but date rape and
AIDS jokes."
</p>
<p> The screenplay by Daniel Waters (a find) offers all that and
much more. It believes, like J.D., that "the extreme always
seems to make an impression." Its language is extreme -- a
voluptuously precise lexicon of obscene put-downs and dry
ironies -- and so is its scenario, which adjusts the teenpix
format to accommodate subjects as bleak as copycat suicides and
killer peer pressure. Heathers finds laughs in these maladies
without making fun of them because Waters writes from inside
teenagers. He knows what makes them miserable and what makes
them bad: that they are already adults but can't accept the
fact. "Why are you such a megabitch?" Veronica asks a surviving
Heather, and the reply is, "Because I can be." Heathers locates
the emotional totalitarianism lurking in a prom queen's heart.
If Michael Lehmann's direction were a bit more astute, the
movie could be the classic genre mutation it aims to be: Andy
Hardy meets Badlands.
</p>
<p> Sing, written by Dean Pitchford and directed by Richard
Baskin, could be called 42nd Street: Duh Motion Pitchuh. It
carts all the cliches of a Broadway backstage story to a
decrepit Brooklyn Central High and populates it with Sesame
Street renegades. Each class puts on a musical skit, or "sing,"
with groups led by a black, a Greek, an Italian and a Jew --
the "rainbow coalition" that exists only in Hollywood musicals.
Yes, the tough Italian stud (Peter Dobson) falls for the sweet
Jewish girl (Jessica Steen). And, honest, when the star of her
skit gets knocked unconscious, the stud takes over and saves
the show. You're going out there a punkster, but you've got to
come back a star!
</p>
<p> The dialogue is all song cues; Pitchford's songs are
standard technopop, except for a comic showstopper, called Life
Ain't Worth Livin' (When You're Dead), that the suicidal teens
of Heathers might take to heart. Otherwise, Sing is strictly
Gold Diggers turned to brass. In the latest teenpix class
portrait, it's a dropout.
</p>
</body></article>
</text>