SIXTEEN CANDLES
For his first feature, screenwriter-turned-director John Hughes, who wrote
Mr. Mom, has come up with a promosing premise: In the chaos
surrounding her older sister's wedding, Molly (Tempest) Ringwald
turn 16, and the occasional passes unheralded by her family. In effect,
this noisy contemporary comedy is a consolation party--a celebration of
adolescent angst. But as the party-giver, Hughes proves to be an
absent-minded host. Midway through the movie, he loses track of the guest
of honor, gets seduced by secondary characters and allows a sly character
comedy to degenerate into yet another beer-and-bashed-cars affiar. In the
process, Hughes also sabotages the considerable talents of Ringwald. She
is un unaffected young actress of enormous spunk and ingenuity. But this
part is much too passive for her; because Ringwald is such a
self-possessed presence on-screen, her shyness and humility aren't
convincing. You know the actress could conjure up a snappy comeback, even
if the character cannot. In fact, all that passivity lets Anthony Michael
Hall, who plays a geek with an eye for Ringwald, pilfer the film. Of
course, Ringwald is suffering from the obligatory crush on the
senior-class stud (Michael Schoeffling), and the results are just
predictable. As a director, Hughes doesn't show much faith in his
screenplay; instead of letting his characters and dialogue stand on their
own, he punctuates scenes with with redundant musical punch lines, such as
the themes from TV's old Peter Gunn and The Twilight Zone.
Despite occasional low comedy hijinks that raise a few laughs, Sixteen
Candles is more rowdy than rousing. As the lady sings in
Dreamgirls, this ain't no party. (PG) --Scot Haller
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