The particular variety of cheesiness for The Lost Boys stems from its dated sense of style, which is so heavily 80s that the movie becomes emblematic of the entire decade. Images of bustling video stores, mullets, Echo and the Bunnymen posters and even the presence of Alex Winter demonstrate that this movie is a main product of the era’s gaudy fashion (sported by Haim, whose regrettable wardrobe blares like the neon Santa Clara boardwalk) and desire to defy the preceding cinematic sobriety of the 1970s. Initially inspired by the idea of the “lost boys” from Peter Pan and a product of The Goonies’ box office success, this teen vampire story becomes a meditation on the topic of peer acceptance. Haim and Patric star as two brothers, Sam and Michael, who are living the nightmare of any teenager – moving far away from home to a scary new place, a social restart, the teen equivalent of death – a journey spearheaded by their mother (Dianne Wiest). In search of their next life chapters, the mother and her two sons take to the town’s bustling Californian boardwalk, where she gets a job at a hoppin’ video store and the geeky-but-apparently-cool Sam finds acceptance among two comic books kids, Edgar Frog (Feldman) and Alan Frog (Jamison Newlander), after he schools them on his knowledge of DC Comics (a nod to executive producer Richard Donner’s past film Superman: The Movie). Michael finds himself caught up with the wrong group, lured by a girl named Star (Jami Gertz) to her boyfriend David, who is the head of a goth’d out gang that hooligans video stores and Ferris wheels (hey, what are you gonna do, it’s the 80s). This change of Michael’s character kicks off the movie’s main conflict, in which Sam must stop his brother going full vampire by killing the lead vamp, who may or may not be David (even his mother’s boss, played by Edward Herrmann, is suspect). Assisted by the all-knowing geek knowledge given to them by cheeky comic books, Haim and his two wannabe vampire hunter friends venture to the group’s cave, killing the wrong vampire, a mistake that leads the night creatures to Sam and Michael’s house for a final showdown. There’s also a whole subplot involving Michael’s desire to be with Star while also reversing the whole vampire thing, but it makes for the movie’s weakest chapters. The movie is directed by Joel Schumacher, who might ring a bell for those who have ever enjoyed mocking Batman Forever and/or Batman and Robin, or have memorized Woody Allen’s history of costume designers (Schumacher did Sleeper and Interiors). Coming early in a directorial filmography that would later include The Number 23 and The Phantom of the Opera, The Lost Boys is a rarity for him, a productive mix of winking camp with action that benefits from his obvious handling of characters and art design, satisfying his comic book imagination while empowering the art form as well. Just like the over-the-top urban architecture of Batman Forever and Batman and Robin, his peacockish artistry is certainly evident here in the glowing 80s neon color palettes and reused helicopter establishing shots over the ocean. It is a surprise, then, to hear that Schumacher did not add the humorous storyline, but the other way around – when he was enlisted by Donner to make the film, he insisted on upgrading the script’s focus on children to teenagers, while also making the vampire elements darker than the script’s original Goonies influence. Likely still standing as his proudest moment in an otherwise milquetoast acting career, Patric’s appearance is one that succeeds most for his luck in picking such a story than actual skill. In the movie’s heavily contrasting tones, Patric is neutralized as a drab gray, given neither the bright colors of Haim’s humor nor Sutherland’s semi-disturbing pitch blackness, but not able to provide anything himself. Though he is placed in the movie’s most urgent dilemma, Patric has a weak sense of emotional urgency and needs his surrounding elements (characters, story and yes, the nostalgia of his haircut) to prevent him from being completely forgettable – the livelier parts of a movie can only rub off on such a dead-eyed character so much. Though the movie’s charm stems, in large part, from its dated characteristics, the concrete for The Lost Boys’ foundation as solid horror is evident solely in Sutherland’s performance; the other members of his villainous vampire gang are disposable goofballs at best and it’s a well-known fact that no amount of gore guarantees a serious dramatic reception. Thus, it is the slithering, physically domineering Sutherland as David, with his distinctive voice that makes every Bank of America ad sound all the more sinister, who provides this tale of peer pressure with its essential representation of bullying brutality. More intimidating than his vampiric bloodlust is his utilization of power through mind games, which here lure gullible Michael into a nearly fatal disaster. Decades from now, even if viewers return to The Lost Boys solely to giggle at the movie’s haircuts, it will still be understood that Sutherland’s villain is one to be disquieted by and one who could tear many vampires that came after him into paper shreds. The Lost Boys isn’t a very smart movie; its only cleverness is evident in the broad winking of the movie’s goofier parts. Though its giddy tone hopping makes for a bumpy script, The Lost Boys is paced well enough, moving from campy scene to campy scene and it does work as an overall package. The script’s gabs for humor succeed at achieving geek empowerment (they’re the “smartest” ones in the movie), while the vampiric moments, with the help of sharp teeth, flaring contact lenses and Kiefer Sutherland, are reasonably ghoulish. These juxtaposing elements often feel too parallel (even when they are physically put together, such as when Edgar Alan and Sam visit the vampire cave), as if the two brain halves don’t need the other. However, they are nonetheless stirred well enough together in the third act, a deliciously campy showdown that mixes heavy amounts of blood with the dorky presence of garlic water pistols, successfully completing Schumacher’s mission to wed “horror and humor. While the zeitgeist dust might plainly settle on some vampire movies due to be entombed by their insignificant contribution to cinema, (unless they are uncovered by small cults, such as what will likely happen with Twilight when that whole thing passes) The Lost Boys is bound to be continually resurrected as a primary text for undead entertainment, whether or not its viewers will have first-hand witnessed the visuals from such a distinct era. The film has earned immortality by being a potent time capsule for a classic decade, one that desired neon color in its darkness, explored the bounds of teenage innocence, and will forever continue to proclaim its pride through cheesy saxaphone solos.
