RETRO-REVIEW: ST. ELMO'S FIRE

Remember this scene from St. Elmo's Fire (1985)?  You remember the one--the one where Demi Moore's character "Jules" attempts to remove herself from this mortal coil via chilblains?

She's totally, like, bummed out, because, amongst other things, her "stepmonster" refuses to die, she's lost her job and her apartment has been stripped bare of all of its furnishings; apparently in a single afternoon.  I mean this might drive anyone to try and render themselves a human Popsicle; but what's this?  Those are her friends, Alec and Leslie (Judd Nelson and Ally Sheedy) at the window.  They're on the fire escape.  They're also on the second floor.  And what's this?  The window has impenetrable steel bars, which, as you can see, block any means of entrance or egress.  Good thing Jules didn't try and immolate herself.
And that's just one of the many problems which made themselves manifest during my rewatch of St. Elmo's Fire, some 39--wait, what?  WHAT THE FUCK?  St. Fucking Elmo's Fucking Fire was 40 years ago?!!?  No!  No, this can't be!!!  (Puts face in pillow and SCREAMS).

Yes, I finished my week long rewatch of the movie as I was blogging about 80's "Brat Pack" movies.  And now, I want to write a review of the movie as I launch a new feature here at Christopherfreidy.com; my "Retro Reviews"; wherein--oh, I really feel the title speaks for itself.  So, I'll post little chuncks of the movie and then review at as we go along.  Here's the opening credit sequence, which I think really sets the mood for what's to follow.  Let's take a look!

Now, I could write this review as though it were 1985 and I'd just seen the movie for the first time; and that would be a lot of fun.  But I also want this to be an analysis.  An "analysis," Chris?  You might ask.  "What is there to analyze about this movie?  It's about as deep as a coffee table book.  Or maybe a coffee table. No, make that a cup of coffee.  Or how about a coffee bean?"  And I might say, "Well, you're right; but sometimes if you peer deeper into something shallow, you might see what it's really about."  We shall see.  Or not.

"...I can smell something new-a-brewin'; wafting from that coffee pot...gonna be in constant motion...from St. Elmo's java!"

Okay, first of all, the movie's theme song.  It's not even about college grads.  It's about a man from Canada who was paralyzed and in a wheelchair and--well, let's let John Parr, the song's singer/writer explain:

But we're getting ahead of ourselves.  The music in the opening credits is by the film's composer, David Foster.  Another Canadian. ???  First, the movie title in an elegant font, an even more svelte version of AVANT GARDE?  In red on a black background.  Red on black is a super bold choice.  I mean, graphically, it looks great; but one can't help but think of things hellacious.  This for example:

Another film famously set in Georgetown.  Is there a subliminal connection?  Well, the more I think about, the more I have to say, yes.  Now as to whether this was intentional on the part of the filmmakers, that's up for them to say.  For example the first photo I posted from the movie; Demi Moore is sitting on the floor of the bedroom, in the cold, with the curtains blowing.  The main setting of The Exorcist is a bedroom, which is freezing cold, with a curtained window; it's curtains shown several times in the film, billowing in the wind.  In fact, this motif was so ingrained with The Exorcist, that the window with the billowing curtains was used as the main marketing image, before the iconic image of the priest arriving at the house.

This was so the intended iconography of the movie that in its initial release at the Mann National in Westwood, a huge three dimensional window, complete with billowing curtains and window shades with ring pulls was incorporated into the massive signage for the movie on the side of the theater.  I discovered this in a short on Youtube about audience reactions to the movie.  Here's a frame grab, which gives you an idea of it:

And now, of course, I'm seeing all kinds of connections.  If you'll recall, in the original "Brat Pack" article from New York magazine, Emilio Estevez was described as running around Westwood trying to get into a movie theater for free.  He was of course in St. Elmo's Fire.  Now yes, this is coincidence; but still, I think, nonetheless, fascinating. 
So get a bowl of popcorn.  Or a pack of smokes.  Or some Devilish Disco Dust. Or a peanut butter and jelly sandwich (more on that later) and settle into your boyfriend's pajamas, all you'll needs this pair of wheels, 'cuz were gonna climb the highest mountain and cross the wildest sea in our quest for St. Elmo's Fire!
CREDIT SEQUENCE
The opening credits of St. Elmo's Fire ("SEF" from here on) are deep, true red on black.  After the name comes up, the black suffuses to an overall red before we dissolve to a shot of a collegiate building with a short staircase where a group of people, clearly in cap and gown descend and start heading towards the camera.  There are only four steps but they aren't wide enough for the group of seven people to descend without spilling onto the grass.  We ascertain the sexes which isn't easy right off the bat, as they are all wearing the same long black robes.  But it appears to be, from right to left: boy, girl, boy, boy, girl, girl, boy.  Our eyes go to the tallest boy in the middle, perhaps because of his bright green shirt and red tie (the classic Christmas color combination).  Sharp eyes might notice this is Rob Lowe; and that when they come down the embankment, arms interlinked; Lowe lifts his feet so that the others have to carry him; alsmost as though he's being transported on a human litter.  The two men in the middle, Rob Lowe and Judd Nelson are smoking.  The robes are unzipped.  Everyone has the air of something being finished, rather than starting; thus the post event smoking.  So, then...where are all the other graduates?  Where are these newly minted grads of this college that would also be wandering around campus after the ceremony?  Where are the families of these seven individuals.  They seem to be alone.  Utterly alone.  As though the school were closed and deserted.  It's rather unsettling.

Now let's look at the very brief, original opening titles of The Exorcist and compare them.

With The Exorcist (Ex from here on), the titles come up; deep red on black.  We see the director's name and the writer's name before the film's name.  We hear screechy strings and then some sort of middle Eastern chanting.  Then, the name fades and the screen is suffused with the red-orange of the blazing sun over the Iraqi desert.  It's nearly the identical effect in the SEF credits. The "O" in "St. Elmo" echoing the actual sun in the Ex credits. The SEF credits also feature strings; certainly more pleasant to the ear.  And extremely bell like notes from a piano.  Later in Ex, we will hear the famous Tubular Bells theme by Mike Oldfield which has become as married to that film as "Man In Motion" has to SEF.

So where is this group of seven headed?  Into the future?  Off to the pub?  Back to their dorm rooms?  Or have they wandered into a metaphysically empty space that only the seven of them inhabit.  Have they just descended down those stairs into some kind of purgatory?  And can we now not escape the very implications--very religious implications--of saints and fire?  What's St. Elmo's story?  I think we need to find out!

He's Saint Erasmus.  Apparently "St. Elmo" is something of a nick-name.  What's he holding?  I'm intrigued!
The device he's holding in his right hand--and they sure left this tidbit out of the movie--is a windlass, which is a device used for raising the riggings on ships and such; a crank.  And also, apparently, in a pinch; to remove someone's intestines, which is what we see hanging on the bottom of the apparatus.  His own intestines.  And apparently he survived this event.  The "fire" is almost an afterthought.  Let's check in as Elmo is disemboweled...

And that's the before picture.  There are lots more during!  Let's get St. Elmo to the emergency room, STAT!  Which brings us to the opening scene of the movie; set in a hospital emergency room, natch.  In the opening credits sequence, as the septet approach the camera they get nearly to the lens as Judd Nelson raises his cigarette to his lips.  As this happens, there is a bright white flareout of light as we hear the sound of squealing brakes and a beating heart on the soundtrack (a car accident?).  Four figures, emerge from this light and we watch them striding purposefully down a hospital corridor.  We recognize them as four of the people from the opening.  Alec Newbary (Judd Nelson), Leslie Hunter (Ally Sheedy), Kevin Dolenz (Andrew McCarthy) and Kirby Keger (Emilio Estevez).  As they approach the nurses station, they are joined by Jules (Demi Moore) and her unnamed, non-speaking extra date.  She and her escort are both in full formal wear, the man in a tuxedo.  Both are stunningly attractive.  They join the others and we ascertain that two of their friends were in a drunk driving accident.  As quickly as we notice that McCarthy is smoking with zero compunction in what is clearly a non-smoking area--we notice something else: A towering, lumbering late middle-aged man, overweight, seen from behind.  His rear end is saggy and misshapen and he wanders into the frame behind the group.  Only McCarthy seems to notice him.  And our only response here can be WHY?  What is happening?  Why is this man in the shot?  Why is he naked?  And more importantly; what is the purpose of his being there; in the context of this story and this piece of visual media?  This figure seems like he wandered in from a Bosch painting.

As the scene progresses, Jules says: "They're dead, aren't they?"  Which "they" aren't; but seems a very odd thing to say at this juncture.  This is when Wendy Beamish (Mare Winningham) wanders out with a Band-Aid on her forehead and assures everyone she and "Billy" are okay.  We'll meet him in a second.  Wendy tells them that Billy was driving her car (with her in it) and he was drunk, got in an accident and totaled the car.  His arrest for drunk driving is imminent.  Both Alec and Kirby attempt to talk Billy's way out of an arrest via veiled offers of bribery to the policeman.  Alec mentions he works for a senator and Kirby is an aspiring lawyer; still in school as he waits tables.  Wendy, noticing the tuxedoed fellow standing off to the side, still silent, asks Jules if he's her date.  Jules laughs as she snidely points out the naked man who's wandered back into the scene and says: "No, him!"  Her girlfriends give wan smiles as if to say: "Oh, that Jules!" And Winningham laughs. But really, the moment backfires, surely.  We can't be being asked to find this humorous, can we? From either the characters or the filmmakers?  The three women's disdain for this poor soul renders them unlikeable from the first moments we meet them.  And the men fare no better.  Smoking near oxygen?  Attempted bribery?  Snickering at other's misfortune?  You bet.  And then the camera follows them out the front door to the ambulance.  The lighting turns red, but we can't quite see the source.  The emergency sign?  The ambulance lights?  By the time the camera tracks to the ambulance, we see Rob Lowe sitting there, blithely playing a saxophone.

So, this is the final of the seven, revealed to us in a, well, Big Reveal.  He is the cause of this turmoil.  He is the one everyone is talking about, drawn to and moving towards.  He's committed a crime (not least of which is his fake sax playing).  Yes, he's a musician.  And who else was a musician, charming, criminal, manipulative, bathed in red light?  Hmmmmmm...
​Could it be...

SIDENOTE:
In trying to find specific images from St. Elmo's Fire to illustrate this blog, I came across another bloggers "deep dive" into SEF.  Usually, when you have an idea, someone else has already had it.  Usually.  A Mr. Matthew Duersten free-lance writer, on his blog STOMP BEAST goes into a multi-part breakdown of the movie, complete with footnotes and asides (a man after my own heart!).  He is quite informative and scathing and I am withholding reading it because I don't want it to color my take; although from what I've read of his, we have nearly identical "takes."  He seems to be coming at the movie from a musical viewpoint.

Billy is carted off in a cruiser and what do his faithful friends do?  Why, go off for a drink at St. Elmo's!  But one of them stays behind.  Kirby, still in his waiter's uniform (he works at St. Elmo's bar) has been transfixed by a vision.  A literal angel in the form of 27 year-old Andie MacDowell.  And she is a vision!  In her white lab coat and back lit by Mr. Schumacher, who wouldn't be smitten?  Kirby reintroduces himself as they both attended the same school: she a senior when he was a freshman.  And we have yet to hear the name of this school uttered and thinking about it now, I'm not sure it ever is.  I mean, we assume these people all went to Georgetown University but I don't think it's explicitly stated; which, when you think about it, is kind of strange.  But not as strange as seven (now eight) people, graduating from a school and then staying within several blocks of it after graduation.  Like ALL of them.  That simply doesn't happen in life.  Kirby (or is it "Kirbo"?  He's listed as "Kirbo" in the credits, but everyone calls him "Kirby," if I'm not mistaken) reminds her of their one date, back in the day, when they went to see Annie Hall.  She seems clueless.  So clueless, in fact, she doesn't appeaar to know where or even who she is; let alone who Kirby Keger is and what movie she saw with him.  Andie MacDowell has a lovely, ethereal, Southern sort of Fitzgeraldian Ice Palace vibe happening; but here, she seems like she should have gone to some kind of remedial school.  She's meant to be celestial; but she's directed toward oblivion.

The hospital sequence closes with Andie (her character's name is "Dale Bieberman" and sounds like "Beaverman" every time Emilio says it) passing through the doors with a child in her arms (Madonna figure) into the same bright white light that opened the scene.  So, this space is presenting two dualities.  The first, the hellscape with naked ogres and smoking cigarettes and red light and bad sax and the other, an angel, literally saying everything is going to be all right as she moves into the light.  So is Kirby actually the character that stands in for the audience?  Later that night, Kirby returns to an apartment where Kevin is writing (or not writing), apparently an article on "The Meaning of Life," which seems a tad on the nose and perhaps worthy of a book, let alone an article.  The following unfolds:

SIDENOTE:
Now, I could analyze every scene of this movie (and there are a lot of them); but I don't think anyone wants that.  For example, between the hospital scene and the above clip, we have our first scene at the actual bar: St. Elmo's; but I feel I would only go that in-depth if I were being paid to write a BFI film classics guide; and I'm not.  But I think I could quite easily write a book's worth of analysis of St. Elmo's Fire.  There is clearly way more here beneath the surface/than meets the eye/than you might think/etc.  Also, if you're into film, I can't recommend  the BFI series enough!  They're slim little volumes; each one dedicated to a particular film, penned by a single author.  Mark Kermode's take on The Exorcist is great.  And also, a personal favorite is Camille Paglia's saucy insights on Hitchcock's The Birds.

Not that I think St. Elmo's Fire will be getting a BFI Classics treatment anytime soon.  Or a Criterion Collection release; although with Criterion, St. Elmo's Fire might just be ironically risible enough for them to apply the delookse treatment to it.  I wonder if we can find any of the St. Elmo's cast in the Criterion closet?
Well, the closest I could come was either Molly Ringwald or Kim Cattrall, so how about both?

Now if we can just get Andrew McCarthy in there!

It should be noted that already in the film, we are seeing more and more windows.  Yes, windows are everywhere in the world; but they are not always a "motif."  In the first shot of the septet, the college building behind them is quite fenestrated and we shall see that the front window of the St. Elmo's bar features greatly into the goings ons.  Now, if you want to see the window as a motif, look no further than Dr. Zhivago.  Once you start noticing the windows and how often they appear, you can't unsee them.  You start to think, gee, how did they manage to get a window in this scene?  I mean, it starts to get hard in that movie to find a scene that isn't in front of, behind, next to, shot through, looking up at, looking out of, beside, below or above a window.

But that's for another blog.  And I want to get back to St. Elmo, himself.  But I also have to watch the movie again, even closer this time, if I'm going to discuss this with any authority.  So, let's watch the "You're gay Andrew and you're in love with Judd" scene again and I'll be back with part 2, soon.  Aren't you excited?

And who's behind them but another "Billy." And he's an "idol."  A false idol?  Hmmmm...

Please see: Retro-Review: St. Elmo's Fire / Part 2 for the next installment.

CFR   4/13/24