“That techno-rock you guys listen to is gutless.”

August 29^th, 2012

Valley Girl, (1983)

Nicolas Cage is Randy

I see now why my girlfriend in college was adamant I watch Valley Girl. When girls say they're looking for a “bad boy” they mean Randy. He's that potent mix of brooding intensity and puppy-dog vulnerability that makes panties drop. He's punk-y enough to be interesting but non-threatening; quick to stand up to a bully like Tommy but is never less than a gentleman with Julie. How many guys can hide in a bathroom until the girl they like comes in - at which point they pop out and say “Don't be frightened” - and make it seem more suave than creepy? I did eventually watch Valley Girl back in college but all I really remember from it are the awesome performances by Josie Cotton and The Plimsouls.

Re-watching Nic Cage in his first starring role I appreciate more how thoroughly he inhabits and sells the Randy character. Plus he's already scattering some of his trademark idiosyncrasies around like these exchanges with Tommy during the winning-Julie-back montage:

Tommy: It appears as though you forgot our French fries and a Coke, fishhead.

Randy the waiter: Oh, well Peter Piper picked a pepper, I guess I did! [spits his gum on Tommy]

Tommy: Bitchin', is this in 3D?

Randy the usher: No, but your face is.

Or how about when Randy and Fred are looking down on the Valley and Randy pulls out a Wowee Whistle and blows a long, mournful note? It's the kind of dadaistic choice that I have to imagine (or choose to imagine) came from Cage and not from a screenwriter.

So yeah, Nicolas Cage and his charisma carry Valley Girl to giddy heights. He fits the role of tall, dark and handsome outlaw well and the promise he holds to Julie away from the familiar to new and dangerous places still resonates. It would be a lesser movie without him and his character spends most of his screen time being awesome. 

 

That said, there's a lot more to like here. Deborah Foreman is fucking adorable as Julie as are her friends. Director Martha Coolidge packs the world around Julie and Randy with seething hormones and teenage energy. Though maybe it's evidence that the script was reportedly written in ten days I like how the storylines around Julie's friends' sexcapades materialize and fade away without any big, cinematic resolutions. Julie's friend sleeps with her ex, feels shitty about it and it's left as that. Just like in real life, not all secrets are fodder for third act reveals; sometimes they're just secrets. 

All the skin (Coolidge was required by the film's producers to show female breasts four times to appeal to male viewers) and blow and sunny synth-pop works to provide a contrast for the main couple's relationship. She finds in him an oasis in a world of shallow appearances. What he finds in her is the kind of pure love he hasn't found humping girls like Samantha in the bathroom of his scuzzy punk hangout. While Julie's ex-boyfriend and her other friends and her friends' moms are fucking up a storm throughout the movie Julie and Randy never get past second base.

In a way, Coolidge and writers Wayne Crawford and Andrew Lane are like Julie's hippie parents. There's a frankness in the way they handle teenagers' sexuality and language (aka lots of tits and F-bombs) that would be lost as the decade progressed and Tipper Gore and the Moral Majority began wringing our hands for us. That frankness is anchored by a trust that kids like Julie and Randy can find their own way if they're given the right tools and the freedom to do so. At heart, Valley Girl is sweeter (and smarter) than most of the superficially family-friendly teen movies that came in its wake. I'd hand it to my hypothetical teenage daughter long before a movie like, I dunno, I Love You, Beth Cooper or The Girl Next Door or whatever PG-13 Ashton Kutcher sausage meat some studio executive is farting out right now.