Sixteen Candles still lights up audiences

Few assertions can be stated with absolute confidence, but one that comes close is that every single female on campus has seen “Sixteen Candles.” And even the people who haven’t seen it still know the story of the quirky and overlooked Sam Baker who eventually wins the affections of popular boy Jake Ryan by being herself. Both of these groups can relive “Sixteen Candles” this weekend, when it will play at midnight at the Landmark Sunshine Cinema (E. Houston Street between Forsyth and Eldridge streets). This cross-generational impact holds true for many other John Hughes films, which have become a part of our cultural vocabulary, still resonating with young audiences today. This transcendence, along with the reclusive director’s unexpected death this past August, raises questions about the complex nature of his legacy.

There is no getting around the fact that “Sixteen Candles” is aesthetically dated, but in spite of this, the story feels curiously current. The surprising ease with which today’s audience gets beyond the nostalgic kitsch of the ’80s fashion, music, and slang is probably due to the film’s underlying themes which still have acute relevance—a compliment also extended to Hughes’ other films. Pop culture is transient, but the way in which Hughes’ films capture the American youth experience of angst, class, and acceptance is not.

But even though our generation can identify with Sam’s quirks—the struggles to fit in and the awkwardness in finding love—there are some cultural changes the film cannot straddle. These uncomfortable points should be reflected on, even if they threaten an otherwise glowing legacy.

It’s unlikely that today’s audience can view the stereotyped depiction of foreign exchange student Long Duc Dong without cringing at its political incorrectness. Similarly, the scene in which Jake essentially offers his drunk girlfriend up to geek Ted as part of a bargain is no longer as humorous or casual as originally intended.

These problems feed into a larger issue in Hughes’ films, which is that, for all the complexities they show in individual characters, they still make heavy use of monoliths and stereotypes. Every story has its predictable jocks, geeks, rich kids, and uncomfortable outsiders. These distinctions inadvertently strengthen social barriers that the storyline tries to cut down.

But in the end, these critiques do little to taint the overall legacy of a film like “Sixteen Candles,” since no legacy is without some controversy that needs to be addressed. The subtle strengthening of the social barriers makes the moment when they are torn down—still the film’s major takeaway, 25 years later—all the sweeter.