There are underrated movies, dear readers, and then there are underrated movies, the kind that for some inexplicable reason have nimbly avoided working their way into the modern pop culture vernacular. Naturally, some of these so-called "misunderstood films" are entirely worthless, supported only by a feverish group of Internet fanboys who think their taste in cinema is so much cooler than those who spend way too much time munching popcorn alone in darkened theaters on sunny Saturday afternoons. It's okay to dismiss these clowns with a wave of your hand, but rest assured they're laughing hysterically behind your back as you waddle away.
Then there are films such as Phil Joanou's bizarre 1987 high school comedy Three O'Clock High, pictures that have been unfairly ignored by the public at large. And while you may initially consider tossing this admittedly pretentious review directly into the Fanboy Rant wastebasket on your wonky Windows Vista desktop, you simply cannot deny the fact that this truly underrated nerd fantasy remains an unheralded cinematic classic amongst those who worship blindly at the altar of John Hughes. Besides, Buddy Revell could literally mop the floor with John Bender any day of the work week.
Recognize, punk.
Casey Siemaszko stars as the hopelessly dopey Jerry Mitchell, school supply store manager and campus newspaper journalist extraordinaire. After waking up late to a buzzing alarm clock and an unexpected flat tire, Mitchell has the sneaking suspicion that it's just going to be one of those days. To further illustrate how bad a loser's luck can be during those tumultuous high school years, Jerry makes the unfortunate mistake of touching the intimidating Buddy Revell, a notoriously troubled student our hero is supposed to interview for the school paper.
Deeply offended by this unwelcomed physical exchange, Buddy challenges poor Jerry to an old fashioned fist fight in the parking lot after school. Weak, wimpy, and thoroughly overwhelmed, Mitchell keeps his eyes glued to the clock as he desperately searches for a way to resolve this deadly situation without getting his lights permanently punched out. Students hoping for a typical melodramatic high school outing should report immediately to the principal's office.
To those born during or after the decade of excess, Three O'Clock High may seem like a relic, one of those corny old movies your Devo-loving parents simply cannot get enough of. Everything about this film screams "I was made in 1987," be it the soundtrack, the clothes, or the hideously dated high school lingo. However, Richard Christian Matheson and Thomas E. Szollosi's super snazzy script has the rare ability to transcend generations if one can look past the awful hairstyles and the dodgy Tangerine Dream soundtrack. After all, brutal tales of bullies and their spineless victims are as ancient as that weird Jesus fellow and those trippy Romans guys. I read about them in a Holiday Inn once.
Phil Joanou has a natural gift for generating substantial tension, the kind that gradually works itself into a frothy uproar by the third act. It's a tactic that serves the film quite well in the long run. Without that palpable suspense, Three O'Clock High would have shattered into thousands of bite-sized pieces by the hour mark. Hoping that Jerry somehow manages to overcome this life-threatening dilemma is what keeps you glued to tube for the duration, though I will say the destination is just as enjoyable as the journey.
None of this goofy excitement would have been remotely possible, of course, had it not been for a pair of strong performances from victim Casey Siemaszko and bully Richard Tyson. Though pasty and whiny, Siemaszko manages to turn Jerry Mitchell into someone you can pull for, an anti-hero of sorts for the MMORPG-obsessed shut-ins of the world. Richard Tyson, on the other hand, has the distinct pleasure of portraying one of the greatest bullies in cinematic history. Smartly written and impeccably cast, Buddy Revell is the perfect Goliath to Jerry's David, an oddly intelligent fellow with an unhealthy predilection for physical violence. He may be the film's proverbial "bad guy," but he's certainly no villain.
The next time your friends attempt to shove one of those John Hughes confections down your unwilling throat, lovingly suggest they feast their retro-cool retinas upon a neglected copy of Three O'Clock High. This sorely overlooked tale of bullies, victims, and documentary filmmakers is sure to please those who genuinely appreciate the silly cinema this strange little decade had to offer. Those who actually grew up during the excessive '80s will surely find several tender nuggets of mind-numbing nostalgia tucked thoughtfully within this thoroughly enjoyable 90-minute time waster. And on top of everything else, it teaches those savvy enough to seek it out a very important life lesson:
Pain is temporary. Film is forever.
