Andrew McCarthy’s Brat Pack Doc Is Therapeutic

When you think of classic coming-of-age movies, you’d probably first think about the movies of John Hughes. From The Breakfast Club to Ferris Bueller’s Day Off, Hughes forever reinvented the way that teens and young adults were portrayed in movies. Hughes was far more in touch with youth than any of the filmmakers who came before, and part of the magic of his movies was the actors he’d cast. From Molly Ringwald to Emilio Estevez and Anthony Michael Hall, the list goes on and on.

Many of these actors were part of a group that the media dubbed as “the Brat Pack.” Taking its name from the “Rat Pack” from the 1950s and ’60s, the word “Brat” isn’t really something that builds confidence in oneself. It feels almost a bit demeaning, more like something an older person would call a group of spoiled teens who won’t sit still and shut up.

Andrew McCarthy, one of the many members of the so-called Brat Pack, hopes to set things straight with his new documentary, simply titled Brats. It’s a documentary that feels less like a puff piece and more like therapy for its many subjects. It would have been fairly easy for a movie like this to feel more along the lines of a celebration, but Brats proves to be so much more than just that.

‘Brats’ Doesn’t Have the Ego Its Title Suggests and That’s A Good Thing

Brats begins with McCarthy talking about the big boom of young actors and actresses that occurred in Hollywood throughout the 80s. After years of never getting proper representation, McCarthy reminisced that it felt like nearly every weekend a new movie would open in theaters starring a youthful face. What started with the success of Fast Times at Ridgemont High and Risky Business, soon evolved into the success of John Hughes, as well as movies such as St. Elmo’s Fire, Top Gun, Back to the Future, Dirty Dancing, Footloose, and The Karate Kid. It was like the output was never-ending.

The success story hits a road bump when McCarthy brings up a New York Magazine cover story dubbing the young actors dominating the movie world as the “Brat Pack.” What was initially planned to be a small piece on Emilio Estevez, soon became warped into a snarky, quasi-hit piece full of hurtful rhetoric. For the rest of the documentary, McCarthy reaches out and meets up with several of the members of the Brat Pack, such as Demi Moore and Rob Lowe, many of whom he hasn’t seen in decades.

Brats is as much a celebration as it is a meditation. Many times throughout the documentary, the actors share happy memories about their past, but there is just as much time spent, if not more time, where the actors talk about their reflections on their feelings. Moore in particular has a moment where she questions if it was reasonable for her feelings to be hurt by the New York Magazine article despite her success. For a movie full of big-name stars, not many of the folks being interviewed feel like they’re full of themselves. There’s not much ego on display.

‘Brats’ Is Andrew McCarthy’s Story Through and Through

Brats is completely unafraid to go into the drama between the actors. It is made clear from the jump that the reason McCarthy chose to make this documentary wasn’t just to take a walk down memory lane and pump audiences full of nostalgia, but because he still has insecurities of his own that have loomed over him ever since the original “Brat Pack” story was published. Each of the actors interviewed has their responses to the article, but their conversations aren’t about their respective careers, they are more about McCarthy. However, McCarthy doesn’t paint himself as some holier-than-thou saint. Instead, he presents himself as someone who is just looking for some old friends he can vent to, and in response has some sort of understanding with them.

Brats isn’t about the Brat Pack as a whole. After all, neither Molly Ringwald nor Judd Nelson make an appearance in the movie (although their presence looms large). There isn’t a whole lot about Sheedy, Lowe, or Timothy Hutton‘s own stories about their lives after the eighties, and honestly, it may have been a tad more interesting if this were a docuseries rather than a 90-minute movie. Regardless, that wasn’t what McCarthy set out to do anyway. This is a movie that he is using to tell his story. He lets his former costars share their thoughts, but that is primarily relegated to their feelings on the name “Brat Pack.”

Despite the array of familiar faces, the main attraction of Brats is McCarthy’s conversation with David Blum, the author of the article that birthed all of McCarthy’s insecurities. Their conversation is as engrossing as it is uncomfortable. There is clearly a lot there that McCarthy and Blum want to say to one another, and it is fascinating to watch both of the men attempt to walk around their true feelings.

While Brats may not be the complete history of the Brat Pack that many viewers may have hoped for, McCarthy’s documentary is still a fascinating look into the other side of fame. It isn’t scandalous nor is it overly schmaltzy. It’s raw and unfiltered but entertaining nonetheless. This isn’t an overly cynical 90 minutes either. McCarthy still includes enough allusions to The Breakfast Club and Pretty in Pink through needle drops and camera shots that are enough to satisfy one’s thirst for nostalgia. Brats serves as not only an enjoyable walk down memory lane but also something deeper and more self-reflective.

Brats is now available to stream on Hulu in the U.S.

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