I know, I know. It’s been quite awhile. Real life has been stealing me away from my nostalgic obsessions lately, and there’s little I can do to make up for it. I’m still invested in this site and everything it stands for, but the updates may be a little more spread out nowadays as work has been keeping me quite busy. The last thing I want to do when I come home is sit on the computer, so I’ll try to utilize the good old notebook more often and try to transfer the articles later. Thanks for your understanding. On to the show:
While there are plenty of serious 90s movies, the best ones are usually the most carefree and fun. While staunch critics may admonish such sophomoric humor, I’ve always felt that the more childish films were always the better ones. They didn’t have to rely on deep meaning, artsy cinematography, or even a properly-formatted script–they just worked.
Wayne’s World is a film about two young, stoner-ish wastoids who host a ratty cable TV show. Suddenly, their low budget antics grab the attention of an ambitious producer who wants to turn them into an overnight success, but the question is how will they cope with the highs and lows of fame, money, and limitless success?
Basically, the film had all the makings of a cult classic like Bill & Ted’s Excellent Adventure (one of my favorite films of all time, by the way), but it was headed by two stars from Saturday Night Live who propelled it to unprecedented international ticket sales and large profits.
If you think people are slovenly, gluttonous and obese now, you were obviously asleep through most of the late 80s and early 90s wave of food products. From the gargantuan Great Biggie size at Wendy’s to the twice-fried (in transfat!) french fries at McDonalds, most Americans were never without a gallon-sized jug of sugary cola and something salty to go with it.
I used to ride my bike to elementary school every day in the fourth and fifth grade and, despite my attraction to troll-shaped Farley fruit snacks, I would save a portion of my lunch money to spend elsewhere after school. A few friends and I would pedal our Schwinns up our towns main street to one of the many eateries littering our small suburban town. My most vivid memory of the after school fatfest was at Wendy’s, where a mystical beast of culinary perfection called the SuperBar was born.
If you’re too young or too fat or too dead to remember, Wendy’s once held far more magic than Frosty’s and baked potatoes. It held a white trash buffet of epic, delicious, and cheap proportions. The SuperBar held a veritable United Nations of cuisines from America’s finest cultures. While much of it was a paint-by-numbers salad bar, no one was really there for that nonsense.
In addition to all that green bullshit, the SuperBar held more intriguing secrets behind it’s dusty sneezeguards. For $2.99 you had access to an assortment of Italian and Mexican delights that engulfed the senses.
Throughout the 90s and most of his career, Michael Jordan was (and continues to be) an icon of epic proportions. From the Olympic dream team to his success as a Chicago Bull to his endless merchandising, MJ was born to be a worldwide superstar. His influence knew no bounds and, after tapping out seemingly ever other avenue of revenue, he crossed over into the cartoon realm with his starring role in Warner Brothers’ very own cash cow crossover, Space Jam.
Space Jam is, by all accounts, a fictional retelling of Jordan’s retirement and subsequent reprisal of his role in the NBA. Released in 1996, the film utilizes the famous Looney Tunes characters like Bugs Bunny, Daffy Duck, Wile E Coyote, and a vast array of other memorable cartoon characters to give an alternate reason for Jordan’s return to basketball.
A success in merchandising opportunity, video game adaptations, as well as box office sales, the film grossed over $230 million worldwide.
On a faraway planet, a group of aliens called the Nerdlucks must answer to their boss Mr. Swackhammer regarding the failure of his amusement park, Moron Mountain. As a means of increasing sales and exposure for his faltering investment, Mr. Swackhammer comes up with the brilliant idea of abducting the Looney Tunes to serve as a brand new attraction at Moron Mountain.
As I’ve said before a million times over, Chrono Trigger is my favorite video game of all time. I take time out at least once a year to replay the game from start to finish. I’ve gotten every ending innumerable times. I’ve maxed out characters, collected multiple copies of every item in the game and have generally OBSESSED over the gorgeous world of pixels that Squaresoft (now Square Enix) created since the first time I laid eyes on it. I absolutely love this game.
With that being said and for those of you not in the know, Chrono Trigger was a turn-based RPG for the Super Nintendo Entertainment system. Released during the later years of the console, it’s a critically-acclaimed and forever beloved example of a perfect roleplaying game. With a brilliant and memorable music score, an intriguing storyline, unforgettable characters, and a well-executed concept of time travel and its effects, Chrono Trigger is as close to perfection as a video game can get.
I’ve already written about the game extensively, but I thought I would reiterate for anyone who missed it the first time around.
This game pushed the limits of the console as well as innovated the RPG genre by making it possible to travel to different time periods of the same world and complete tasks and make decisions that can affect that same world in the future. Hopping across time, you could see just what effect your actions and heroism had on future generations.
In the 90s as well as today, teen movies are hugely popular and even more hugely profitable. It’s a genre that the world at large cannot seem to get enough of. With attractive young actors, coming of age stories, and lots of partying and debauchery, who could resist such charming entertainment?
I’ve always been a sucker for teen films and I think it’s because I still have the mind of a teenager. Crude humor, petty drama, turbulent angst, and beautiful young women still interest me at 26 years of age. Besides Dazed and Confused and the John Hughes legacy, one of my favorite teen movies is an exceptional piece of teen comedy and romance known as 10 Things I Hate About You.
Much like the way that Clueless is a modern retelling of Jane Austen’s “Emma” and She’s All That is a present-day “Pygmalion,” 10 Things I Hate About You owes the majority of its story to William Shakespeare’s “The Taming of the Shrew.” Despite its initially-recycled concept, the film succeeds in breathing originality and promise into the genre.
What largely separates this film from much of the mediocre competition is the fact that the script is surprisingly smart and the characters are memorable.