Suggested Audio Jukebox:

 

[1] The Flowerpot Men “Beat City”

[2] Pointer Sisters “Neutron Dance”

[3] Kenny Loggins I’m Alright”

[4] Deniece Williams “Let’s Hear It For The Boy”

[5] Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark “If You Leave”

[6] Randy Hall “All Night”

[7] Rupert Hine “With One Look (The Wildest Dream)”

[8] The Fixx “One Thing Leads To Another”

[9] Glenn Frey “The Heat Is On”

[10] Patti LaBelle “Stir It Up”

[11] The Rays “Be Alone Tonight”

[12] Kool & The Gang “Hollywood Swinging”

[13] The Gap Band “I’m Gonna Git You Sucka”

[14] Jean-Marc Dompierre “El Bimbo”

[15] Michael McDonald “Sweet Freedom”

[16] Snap “The Power”

[17] Lyndsay Buckingham “Holiday Road”

[18] Simple Minds “Don’t You (Forget About Me)”

 

When I started Rivers of Grue, my primary objective was to celebrate all things horror. If any genre of film needed decent representation, then it appeared to be this one and I have been dedicated to its cause for as far back as I can remember. That said, if you asked me for my ten favorite all-time movies, then it would actually struggle to have any kind of representation. You see, for as subterranean as my devotion for the macabre is, I’ve always been a sucker for comedy.

Indeed, many of my personal darlings are humorous works, particularly where the eighties is concerned. Considering there is no unspoken law that I can’t stray from the deep red path on occasion, I have decided to exercise that right and pay homage to some of the glorious comedic works that surfaced while I was coming of age. In true Keeper style, this will not be an exercise in listing the usual suspects and, instead, is geared up as a celebration of some lesser known delights of the epoch.

When we watch a horror movie and it scares us witless, there are a number of exclusive symptoms that it encourages. Elevated heart rate, clenched and clammy hands, and the release of opiate endorphins. It’s all basic biology and tied into the body’s sympathetic nervous system, inducing both stress and anxiety. Comedy finds a different way to make its impact and, each time our funny bones are tickled, feel-good chemicals are freed up. In addition to the rush they provide, these endorphins also raise our ability to disregard pain. Thus, should you be suffering from a particularly inhospitable migraine, a good belly laugh may well supply the best medicine.

No two senses of humor are the same which makes comedy a particularly hard nut to crack and precious few movies work right across the board. It’s all ultimately subjective and the reason why the term “hit and miss” is so often used in close proximity with humor. My case in point is Gene Wilder: I only have to look at Wilder’s beautiful face to rupture a kidney and he needn’t even open his mouth to send me into uncontrollable spasms. Others may desire only to punch his face repeatedly and blacken those magically sparkling eyes. As unthinkable as that may seem to me, I do get it. You see, Chevy Chase does little for me, and that is despite him headlining some of the greatest comedies of the era. National Lampoon’s Vacation, Fletch and Caddyshack are all glorious movies and I certainly have no grievance with Chase whatsoever. However, he has to work harder to raise a smile and that is just down to personal preference.

So who stands out from the crowd? Well a good place to begin would be the great Steve Martin. For me, the eighties were his decade, much as they were John Carpenter’s for horror. This decidedly flush period boasted the likes of The Jerk, The Man With Two Brains, Dead Men Don’t Wear Plaid, Roxanne, and All of Me, and it appeared Martin could do absolutely no wrong. Indeed, his dominance continued into the early nineties and Mick Jackson’s L.A. Story is potentially my all-time most watched film. However, I have decided to focus on one of his lesser known works as it never received anything like the credit is deserved and seldom even gets a mention. The movie in question is Arthur Hiller’s The Lonely Guy from 1984 and it paired Martin with one of the decade’s true unsung heroes.

Charles Grodin popped up on numerous occasions during the eighties but never quite made it as a leading man. Supporting roles in Taking Care of Business, Midnight Run and The Woman in Red showcased his immense aptitude for comedy and here he was on irresistible form as down on his luck douche Warren Evans. Martin played fellow nobody Larry Hubbard and together they pooled their desolation, while inviting us to have many a laugh at their expense. Riddled with insecurity and lacking anything resembling self-esteem, the pair did however know how to throw a party. The problem was that the only people who bothered to attend their soirées were cardboard cut-outs. Both immensely funny and profoundly touching, The Lonely Guy is one of the most underrated comedies from its epoch and, ironically, just as outcast as its two leads.

Don’t even get me started on Bill Murray. My personal darling Murray films actually arrived after the eighties were all sewn up, with What About Bob?, Groundhog Day, Kingpin, Ed Wood, and Rushmore five such beacons of brilliance. Meanwhile my standout Murray performance is as ageing movie star Bob Harris in Sofia Coppola’s Lost in Translation (one of my all-time five favorite films) and openly admit to being heartbroken watching him pipped for the Best Actor Oscar by Sean Penn. Nary has a reaction been so utterly honest and nary has a man been so robbed of accolade.

Meanwhile, the eighties were every bit the stomping ground for Murray, and I simply have to mention Quick Change, which arrived at the decade’s end. This time he was on co-director duties with Howard Franklin and in wonderfully deadpan form as bank-robbing clown Grimm. In the titular role for Richard Donner’s Scrooged he also excelled, but then, when doesn’t he? His nonchalant delivery is truly without equal and, like Wilder, simply has to show up to get a rise out of this audience.

“Where’s your other hand?”
“Between two pillows”

While Martin was unquestionably my king and Murray my prince, the late John Candy was not far behind them. While sadly missed when he made his untimely curtain call, his long-running courtship with comedy yielded unanimous results. Indeed, he played off Martin beautifully for John Hughes’ Planes, Trains & Automobiles and stole the show on many an occasion. He just had a natural aptitude for slapstick and worked consistently throughout the decade to bring joy to the masses. I have fond recollections of him as Wally World security guard Lasky in Harold Ramis’ aforementioned National Lampoon’s Vacation. Ramis too was taken far too soon and, while many remember him as Egon Spengler, he also directed many of the decade’s most memorable comedies, not to mention Groundhog Day in 1993. God bless you Candy and Ramis, you may be gone, but your legacy remains very much alive and well.

Before Tom Hanks became the force of nature he is now, he was making a name for himself as a funny man and took to comedy like a lamb to a hot-pot. After the success of Ron Howard’s Splash in 1984 (which co-starred Candy), a slew of comedic roles followed and the likes of The Money Pit, Big, and The ‘Burbs cemented his reputation as one of the funniest men on the circuit. Meanwhile, David Seltzer’s excellent 1988 drama Punchline saw him playing a stand-up comedian and hinted at his potential as a dramatic actor.

However, my personal stand out just has to be Neal Israel’s Bachelor Party from 1984 as, while hardly what you would call high-brow entertainment, it showed Hanks doing what he did best at that time – refusing to come of age. I challenge anyone to make it through 105 minutes without coming a cropper as this film is positively spring-loaded with priceless moments. Crass it most certainly is, in the über-extreme no less, but it perfectly typifies the post-Animal House era and is every bit as gut-bustingly hilarious now as it was thirty years ago.

Raucous was already on the menu by this point after Bob Clark’s Porky’s placed sex comedy firmly on our radars in 1982. Indeed, there would never have been American Pie without it and over $100m in box-office receipts proved job very much done, resulting in two predictably less monumental sequels. Highlighting the plight of a group of high school students and their attempts to pop those cherries, it also supplied us with numerous memorable characters. Kim Cattrall’s Lassie, Dan Monahan’s Pee Wee, and Tony Ganios’ Meat all had their moments to shine but one scene, in particular, became the stuff of legends. As the inquisitive Paulie The Penis slid through that peep-hole in the girls’ shower room and attracted the undesirable attention of Coach Balbricker, the whole world snorted back snot in unison.

Ironically, I was rumbled in much the same way as the ill-fated Paulie as I watched it surreptitiously in my boudoir. Of all the moments for my mother to deliver my laundry, she had to pick the very one where several co-eds lathered themselves down fully naked for our viewing pleasure.

Porky’s became a swear word in our house after that and I was no longer considered quite as sweet and innocent. Others attempted to follow suit, with Private School, Screwballs, and Revenge of The Nerds perhaps the best of a fairly insipid bunch. But Clark’s film was an incriminating mole-stricken penis ahead of the game and one of the finest eighties comedies to boot.

John Hughes was way beyond gifted and pretty much single-handedly marshalled the decade where teen comedy was concerned. The Breakfast Club is generally considered his finest hour and is admittedly one of the finest coming-of-age movies of all time. However, Pretty In Pink was my intimate soul mate. Of all of my adolescent crushes, Molly Ringwald was perhaps my most significant and, in red-head Andie Walsh, I had my own bona fide prom queen.

His output through this period was truly second to none, with Ferris Bueller’s Day Off seducing the slacker within me and providing me a personal hero. For as effortlessly charismatic as Matthew Broderick was in the leading role, it was Alan Ruck’s Cameron Frye that earns this particular accolade. If that wasn’t enough, Mia Sara’s Sloane Peterson was on hand to fuel my pistons further, while Jeffrey Jones as Edward R. Rooney and Edie McClurg as his fumbling assistant Grace were totally incalculable.

“Ya know…like the po-wer drill?”

As I already mentioned, comedy is entirely subjective. Two films I have particularly fond recollections of are widely regarded as two of the lousiest of their generation. Bruce A. Evans’s Kuffs arrived just after the turn of the nineties and was considered more putrid than a barrel of fish heads. Meanwhile, Renny Harlin’s The Adventures of Ford Fairlane presented a rare leading role to notorious stand up comic Andrew “Dice” Clay and was universally vilified on its short-lived theatrical release. Word to the wise Grueheads, it’s a cracking film and I would defend it to the bitter end against such naysayers. Granted, neither of the above are what you would call highbrow offerings but, to me, they’re just perfect as they are.

“Les…..Les…..Lessss! LES, IT’S ME…PAPA!”

Corey Haim and Corey Feldman could do little wrong in my eyes and there was no denying the on-screen chemistry they shared. This was at its most abundant in Greg Beeman’s License To Drive, a film I will never tire of repeat viewing, and aided in no small part by such distinguished company. Richard Masur and Carol Kane were off-the-chart as “hip” parents Mr. & Mrs. Anderson and almost provoked a bladder breach on numerous occasions throughout. Meanwhile, Haim also endeared himself to us with his role in David Seltzer’s Lucas. This delicate little flower’s only desire was to be accepted and, through Seltzer’s gentle, thoughtful and eminently charming movie, managed to steal every last one of our hearts.

Patrick “McDreamy” Dempsey also effortlessly won me over as loveable loser Ronald Miller in Steve Rash’s Can’t Buy Me Love. In my opinion, there is no more superior geek to chic flick in existence and none that impart such a warm glow inside. A young Seth Green also excelled as Miller’s guillotine-wielding little bro Chucky and showed us why a future in comedy beckoned.

This was Dempsey’s movie through and through though and he soon became our favorite awkward teen. This was perhaps best showcased for Michael Hoffman’s exquisite 1988 comedy-drama Some Girls but the vision that will forever spring to mind when speaking of Dempsey is The African Ant-Eater Ritual. Should you be familiar with Can’t Buy Me Love, then you’ll know precisely where I’m coming from.

However, nobody beats off John Cusack for me in the regular eighties schmuck role. I have a handful of healthy man-crushes and this fine specimen is one such infatuator. Let’s not get it twisted , I have no inkling to caress him other than a reverential stroke of the face, perhaps a gentle ruffle of the hair if I’m feeling impish. More than anything, I just respect the shit out of the egg that hatched him. Say Anything and The Sure Thing are commonly regarded as his greats but Savage Steve Holland’s Better off Dead is my personal jewel in his crown. Not all of its slapstick worked but it mattered not as, in Cusack’s Lane Myer, we had ourselves a guy who knew how it felt to have his heart trampled underfoot.

We just liked the hell out of Lane and Curtis Armstrong was unrefined plutonium as his snow-snorting compadre Charles De Mar. Moreover, we were introduced to Monique, the adorable french exchange-student played by the always captivating Diane Franklin. Add a bit of Howard Jones to the mix-tape and it fast become the soundtrack movie to this disillusioned teen’s growing pains. Meanwhile, Holland also provided us with How I Got Into College which, alongside Allan Katz’s Big Man on Campus, stands out as one of the overlooked beauties of the era.

When you mention the word comedy, one name that doesn’t spring instantly to mind is Martin Scorsese. Yet one of the finest black comedies of the eighties actually belonged to him and, if you haven’t had the ominous pleasure of chaperoning Paul Hackett through the single worst night in his life, then I implore you not to let the grass grow beneath your feet for a second longer and seek After Hours out post-haste. I am a staunch believer that the perfect film does exist and this is one such flawless gemstone.

A progressively more nightmarish scenario plays out with the likes of Rosanna Arquette, Linda Fiorentino, John Heard, Catherine O’Hara, Teri Garr and even Cheech & Chong making up numbers. However, it is Griffin Dunne who truly makes this tick and his performance as the exasperated Hackett is one of my standouts from a decade chock full of winning turns. To give you some idea of the love I have for Scorsese’s film, it would make my ten best movies of the eighties shortlist without Dunne ever needing to sweat.

Speaking of unexpected personal favorites, when you mention the name John Landis, you’d be forgiven for instantly recollecting the likes of The Blues Brothers, National Lampoon’s Animal House, Trading Places, or An American Werewolf in London as his finest hour. While not about to throw a cat amongst the pigeons and suggest that Into The Night is his best film, it is certainly my personal darling of his.

This belting comedy thriller supplied us with the delectable pairing of Jeff Goldblum and Michelle Pfeiffer, and the results were no less than magnanimous. Featuring Landis himself in a bumbling cameo as one of a clueless gaggle of middle eastern criminals, literally dozens of other cameos, and a scene-stealing turn from David Bowie, Into The Night is a precious little movie that deserves every bit of the plaudits it never ultimately received.

David Leland’s Checking Out was another film that regrettably sank without a trace and this is a crying shame as it shines out like a beacon from 1989. Jeff Daniels plays hypochondriac Ray Macklin, a man obsessed with his own mortality and convinced the pearly gates are beckoning him. Daniels is pitch-perfect, which shouldn’t have been a surprise after his turn in Jonathan Demme’s Something Wild three years previous.

Here he starred alongside Melanie Griffith on the very top of her game and Ray Liotta in the role which surely landed him Goodfellas. Griffith was on fire during the late eighties and Mike Nichols’ 1988 film Working Girl offered further proof of this woman on her absolute A-game, roping in the likes of Sigourney Weaver and Harrison Ford to bask in her glorious light.

Anyone who has ever had their lunch money pilfered by the campus bully will appreciate our next little number. Phil Joanou’s Three O’Clock High presented Casey Siezmasko with a rare leading role as the last kid in school you would place your money on in a fist fight, Jerry Mitchell. This well-intentioned young nobody unwittingly secures a date with doom when attracting the attention of feared school ruffian Buddy Revell, a menacingly brilliant Richard Tyson.

The film charts the exploits of a single day as he endeavors to wriggle free from his forecast three o’clock annihilation. Teeth in a basket loom large and, for any of us who endured a similar day of torment as we awaited our inescapable fate, it should all feel fretfully familiar

Alas, Police Academy managed to squander its strong start after Hugh Wilson got the ball rolling in 1984 and landed a surprise hit in the process. Here it was not so much the curse of the sequel as the six-strong charade that followed, milking the fiscal teats for all they were worth and with gradually more embarrassing results. Steve Guttenberg, so effortlessly affable as slacker Mahoney, stuck with this lost cause for as long as was humanly possible, but eventually even he handed over his gun and badge. By the time this sorry franchise finally ran out of steam, any once fond memories had been soundly compromised. Nevertheless, on its own merits and taken strictly as a one-off, the original is still great.

Blake Edwards was an indisputable comedy genius and his Pink Panther series has more than stood the test of time but, in 1989, he appeared to come horribly unstuck. Skin Deep was considered a turkey of Thanksgiving proportions and vilified pretty much universally upon its release. However, the critics couldn’t have got it more wrong on this occasion as it was a glorious film and provided us a mercurial turn from the late John Ritter as a successful author with a weakness for booze and loose women.

Indeed, the famous luminous condom joust scene reminded us that Edwards still knew how to milk out those tears of joy and remains one of the funniest committed to celluloid during the entire epoch.

Like the aforementioned Steve Martin, Eddie Murphy also found his niche in the eighties before ultimately going off the boil and, with his jubilant stand-up routine Delirious, truly graduated as a rock star. Martin Brest’s Beverly Hills Cop and Tony Scott’s similarly magnanimous sequel provided the ideal showcase for his talent, and Rosewood and Taggart weren’t the only ones to fall for his undeniable charms.

Murphy was crowned as a worldwide superstar off the back of it and enjoyed monumental success throughout the decade. Let’s not forget Walter Hill’s 48 Hrs. which pitted him against sore-headed grizzly Nick Nolte, who also delighted in Francis Veber’s Three Fugitives, alongside rubber-faced Martin Short.

When speaking of Short, it is all too easy recalling ¡Three Amigos! and Innerspace, but Armyan Bernstein’s third date disaster movie Cross My Heart was a real low-key triumph and saw him trading verbal volleys with Annette O’Toole, with incalculable results. Another charming late eighties comedy that sank without trace was Geneviève Robert’s Casual Sex? and, once again, Andrew “Dice” Clay came up smelling of roses with a truly disarming performance as the Vin Man that inexplicably wore us down.

My personal favorite of all Spike Lee joints (Do The Right Thing and The 25th Hour inclusive) was his musical comedy School Daze from 1988. Critics were less unanimous in their praise but what the hell do those douche balls know anyhoots?

“Wake up”

With Larry Fishburne at his belligerent best as Dap, Giancarlo Esposito on marvellously militant form as his fierce rival Dean Big Brother Almighty, Tisha Campbell-Martin simply ravishing as his trophy girl Jane, and the likes of Bill Nunn, Kardeem Hardison, and Lee himself trooping up alongside them, this provided a memorable insight into prejudice related to skin tone bias and hair texture within the African-American community and provided one of the masterful closing shots and quotes in eighties cinema.

Amy Heckerling provided the soundtrack to many youths with Fast Times at Ridgemont High, chronicling the growing pains of its screenwriter, a certain Cameron Crowe who went on to excel habitually in the nineties. Featuring winning turns from the likes of Judge Reinhold, Sean Penn, Nicolas Cage and Jennifer Jason Leigh, it was the ultimate coming-of-age comedy.

Meanwhile, the sight of Phoebe Cates stepping out of the swim and popping off that bright red bikini top to reveal her glistening cherries will forever be emblazoned across my hippocampus.

Nastassja Kinski was also responsible for many an involuntary erection in the eighties, although Tony Richardson’s quirky one-off The Hotel New Hampshire concealed her beauty beneath the fur of a cycling bear no less. Featuring a great ensemble cast, this is the kind of film that Wes Anderson would have made, had he been plying his trade in the eighties, and a bona fide breath of fresh air.

While Eddie Murphy was busy grabbing headlines, another supremely gifted black stand-up comedian was also waiting in the wings, although Robert Townsend never managed to grab the spotlight so conclusively. That said, Hollywood Shuffle (which he also directed), was a marvellous picture and hinted at his natural aptitude for humor. Moreover, any self-respecting student of film owes it to themselves to give this one a run-out. Quite how this didn’t lead on to bigger things is anyone’s guess.

Another overlooked black comedian, Arsenio Hall, popped up in John Landis’ Amazon Women On The Moon in the same year, where belly laughs were had at his spiralling misfortune. I love this film like a honey-coated kitten and a colostomy bag is advised when viewing. Should you have a weakness for the ridiculous then you will have filled it long before your scheduled intermission.

The blaxploitation genre was well and truly given the parody treatment with Keenan Ivory Wayans’ side-splitting I’m Gonna Git You Sucka, with virtually every black actor on the block weighing in. As spoofs go, and they regularly miss the target more than they hit, this had a far greater ratio towards the latter.

The sight of superfly guy Antonio Fargas hobbling down the sidewalk in his full-pimp attire as he exits his decade long incarceration no longer Pimp of the Year while his theme band struggle to keep up causes me to hyperventilate. By the time one of his fish-tank platforms explodes on him and he gives it a gentle shake off I am reduced to convulsing jelly. Speaking of which, the orchestra just turned up.

While on the subject of spoof, Jim Abrahams and David & Jerry Zucker were far and away the most consistent flag bearers on the circuit and, it goes without saying that Airplane! was cinematic plutonium of the highest order. Unquestionably the finest example of a sub-genre hardly brimming with success stories, I would prefer to steer you today in the direction of their 1984 film Top Secret! Granted, it may not be in the same league, but I always did love me an underdog and it was no less forthcoming with moments of pure comedy genius. I’ve got three words for ya – underwater bar brawl – and here’s another two – downright genius. Indeed, I could feel Peter Cushing eyeballing me for weeks after viewing, while Omar Sharif never looked better than with a face full of dashboard.

Speaking of tickling funny bones, few could claim to do so quite so masterfully as our beloved Monty Python team. Terry Jones’s The Meaning of Life arrived in 1983 and, while rightly not considered their best, offered a fascinating journey through various stages of the life-cycle from conception to expiration. It didn’t always hit the mark and its bloated opening presentation The Crimson Permanent Assurance felt a little out-of-place, but when they did hit pay dirt (and with some frequency I might add), it showcased the Pythons at the very top of their game.

Meanwhile, John Cleese and Michael Palin were on similarly enigmatic form for Michael Crichton’s glorious 1988 heist comedy A Fish Called Wanda which, alongside Bruce Robinson’s Withnail & I, was quite possibly the funniest film to emerge from the UK in decades. However, it was Kevin Kline who truly stole the show here (and a Best Supporting Actor Oscar to boot) as double-crossing numskull Otto. Indeed, just as Richard E. Grant provided new meaning to the word “scrubbers!”, Kline made “asshole!” his very own.

Christian Slater often gets harshly critiqued for his admittedly chequered résumé but, alongside Michael Lehmann’s Heathers, his peak invariably came at the turn of the nineties with Allen Moyle’s Pump Up The Volume. He played an ordinarily shy pirate radio broadcaster who, while operating under the pseudonym Happy Harry Hard-On, challenged disillusioned adolescents to use their free speech, oppose censorship, and “Talk Hard!”

Thought provoking in the extreme, it was Slater’s performance as Harry that taught me how to use my own voice and his unapologetically no-holds barred approach is evident in my own scribing style. It’s all about having the cojones to challenge the contorted society we inhabit, stand up and be counted, gain your true identity and reach for whatever fucking dreams you wish. Hear hear!

The magnificent Robin Williams was a fine comic actor, the likes of whom we may never see again. His suicide in 2014 was heartbreaking and left a void that is simply impossible to fill. Standout Williams performances were ten a penny but, for me, the most delectable fruits from his loins came courtesy of George Roy Hill’s adaptation of John Irving’s The World According to Garp.

Irving went on to pen The Hotel New Hampshire and this tragedy-ridden comedy drama trod similar boards, exhibiting the beauty of the world offset against the moral bankruptcy which exists all around us. Bravely tackling topics such as rape and mutilation, marital infidelity, feminism against exploitation and even gender-modification (with John Lithgow giving an unforgettable turn as transsexual Roberta Muldoon), it did so through a dark satirical view of the modern world which saw it vilified on release but interestingly attracted a predominantly female fan-base.

Proving once more that Williams’ finest works were primarily dramatic pieces, Python Terry Gillam’s fable on redemption The Fisher King featured possibly his finest single performance, playing the affable fool alongside solemn shock jock radio deejay Jeff Bridges who suffered a crisis of identity and considerable soul searching as he entered the world Parry’s mind existed within. Once again, Williams comic timing was spot-on but, as with Garp, he excelled through far more subtle means than the stand-up auto-pilot that earned him his fine name.

So how about a few honorable last minute mentions? Well I couldn’t depart without a quick tip of the Crimson Quill to Rodney Dangerfield. How could I not mention this bulging-eyed belly-laugh bandit? Easy Money, Caddyshack and Back to School were all excellent examples at this funny man at his wondrous apex. He just couldn’t get any respect. Bless his unique soul. Damn, I haven’t even mentioned James & John Belushi, Dan Ackroyd, Richard Pryor, Michael Keaton, and Lloyd Bridges.

I really could keep on perpetually but, instead, shall close with a gallery of great moments to savor from some of the films which helped shape my adolescence. Beforehand, I shall impart my personal fifty eighties comedy darlings in alphabetical order. You may not agree with my choices but, then, that is the beauty of comedy right?

 

⦁ A Fish Called Wanda
⦁ Adventures of Ford Fairlane, The
⦁ After Hours
⦁ Airplane
⦁ Amazon Women on the Moon
⦁ Bachelor Party
⦁ Back to School
⦁ Better Off Dead
⦁ Beverly Hills Cop
⦁ Breakfast Club, The
⦁ Burbs, The
⦁ Caddyshack
⦁ Can’t Buy Me Love
⦁ Checking Out
⦁ Dream Team, The
⦁ Fast Times at Ridgemont High
⦁ Ferris Bueller’s Day Off
⦁ Ghostbusters
⦁ Hollywood Shuffle
⦁ I’m Gonna Git You Sucka
⦁ Last American Virgin, The
⦁ License to Drive
⦁ Lonely Guy, The
⦁ Lucas
⦁ Midnight Run
⦁ Money Pit, The
⦁ Monty Python’s The Meaning of Life
⦁ National Lampoon’s Vacation
⦁ Night Shift
⦁ Planes, Trains & Automobiles
⦁ Porky’s
⦁ Pretty in Pink
⦁ Pump Up The Volume
⦁ Quick Change
⦁ Raising Arizona
⦁ School Daze
⦁ She’s Having a Baby
⦁ Skin Deep
⦁ Some Girls
⦁ Something Wild
⦁ Stir Crazy
⦁ Summer School
⦁ Taking Care of Business
⦁ This is Spinal Tap
⦁ Tin Men
⦁ Top Secret
⦁ Trading Places
⦁ Withnail & I
⦁ Working Girl
⦁ World According to Garp, The

Eighties Comedy in Pictures

What better tonic is there than laughter? It has always been my intention to do so as much as humanly possible and I always revert back to this ever-reliable decade for my inspiration. Needless to say, age plays a factor and it invariably will as all the memories from back then are good and my own teens were saved from the raging hell fires which threatened to consume me by delightful movies such as those explored in my affectionate closing gallery. It seems ludicrous that the eighties was once considered rather a lackluster decade for inspiration as it certainly fueled my tank and there ain’t a solitary minute I intend on asking for back. Now, in the words of the great Harry Hard-On himself, I’m off to “Talk Hard!”