... And it made me wonder. Are we really letting our daughters down? And our sons? By we, I mean all of us, but I think mainly I mean writers, and people who enjoy the writing. So yes, pretty much all of us.
Because here's the thing. The Andrew McCarthy character. The way he pitches up at the party at the end, the way he eschews all his friends, tells Molly how much he loves her.
It's total baloney.
I mean, he's meant to be, what, seventeen?
SEVENTEEN, people.
Do you know a single seventeen year old boy who would do that? To feel so deeply, to have such confidence, such sophistication? No, no and no. Seventeen year old boys should be smirking with their friends, growing into their bodies, reprogramming their parents' computers and telling everyone how bored they are. And having sex, possibly... okay, probably. But exploratory sex, or sweet sex, or even embarrassing sex. They might fall in love, even. But act like a thirty year old? Sweep in and save the day like a modern day Mr Darcy?
I don't think so.
Mr Darcy, let's not forget, was a lot older than seventeen.
And I know that Pretty in Pink is an OLD FILM. But there are new ones being made the same, every day. And books. And the trouble is, girls, who often mature earlier, are led to believe that teenage boys do act like this. Think like this. Or at least that they might. And believing that makes them read things into situations, encourages them to make allowances, allows them to wait on tenterhooks for someone to save them when really, they need to be concentrating on themselves, doing pretty much what the boys are doing just with a bit more nail varnish. Possibly.
It also puts a whole load of pressure on the boys.
I don't know, the whole thing left a bit of a bad taste in my mouth. I don't want my children being fed a whole load of junk about the world. I'm not saying I want them to watch The Wire aged 6 and get a dose of gritty reality. I just want them to be strong, self assured, confident and to know that if they're looking for a saviour, they need to look inside, not out.
So I guess no more 80s brat pack films. Although the theme tune was pretty good. And she was kind of pretty in pink...
