Day 7: The Lost Boys (1987)

A Month of Horror

I have always wanted to do a marathon of "HORROR" throughout the month of October, one where I would revisit a new horror movie every day from the first to the thirty-first.  I will revisit the classics as well as new entries into the canon.  There are many movies that define this time of year, and I hope to showcase 31 of them this month...

October 7: The Lost Boys (1987)

"What, you don't like rice?  Tell me Michael, how can a billion Chinese people be wrong?"

That is one of the many quotable lines from Joel Schumacher's "The Lost Boys", a movie that I have easily seen over 100 times.   This is definitely a movie of its time, a product of the neon '80s.  There are fashion disasters that abound in this film, but it is also easy to look beyond the superficial elements of the time to see a solid action horror hybrid film that oozes charm.

When Sam (Corey Haim) and Michael (Jason Patric) move from their Arizona home to Santa Clara, California, the murder capital of the world, things quickly go from the bad of So-Cal surf culture circa 1987, to worse when Michael falls in with a group of dirt bike riding punks run by the charismatic David (Kiefer Sutherland).

The story plays pretty loose with established vampire lore of the time, but when Sam meets Edgar and Allan Frog (Corey Feldman and Jameson Newlander) at a local comic book store, they make it clear that Santa Clara has a bigger problem than missing people: Vampires.

This movie borrows its title from "Peter Pan", and it is an apt metaphor.  David and the other "lost boys" band together as an odd little family with the beautiful Star, and her young ward Laddie.  The fact that the boys are vampires is secondary.

One of the greatest charms of "The Lost Boys" is the earnest delivery of its cast.  Many of them went on to become well-known names in Hollywood and beyond, but for many, especially with the younger cast, this was one of their first big exposures.

"The Lost Boys" is an excellent romp, and one of the brighter spots in the mid to late '80s horror revival.  With vibrant characters, a well told story, and a wealth of quotable lines, it is a brilliant example of how vampires are much better when they don't sparkle, and that taking a subversive approach to traditional stories often results in above-average results.

As a quick aside, the soundtrack is one that still stands the test of time.  Maybe not the greased up saxophony of Tim Capello's "I Still Believe", but Gerard McMann's "Cry Little Sister" is still an excellent song.

Tomorrow I plan to get lost in the woods, and a web of viral marketing.