Gratitude Over Time
An unexpected lesson from a pair of retrospective documentaries
In the past few months, a pair of documentaries has tackled two culturally iconic moments from almost forty years ago. Bao Nguyen’s The Greatest Night in Pop explores the 1985 musical collaboration, We Are the World. And Andrew McCarthy’s Brats revisits a group of young Hollywood actors who appeared in John Hughes movies like The Breakfast Club and Pretty in Pink—actors labeled as the “Brat Pack” in David Blum’s article published that same year.
Neither We Are the World nor the Brat Pack’s movies is above critique. The song by Michael Jackson and Lionel Richie is decidedly paternalistic and at times heretical (contrary to Willie Nelson’s signature line, God did not turn stone to bread). And not all of the scenes or lines from the Brat Pack movies have aged well.
Without dismissing those flaws, one can still appreciate the cultural significance of these contributions. Most people my age still remember Michael Jackson’s chorus, Cyndi Lauper’s bridge, and Bruce Springsteen’s filler from We Are the World. And I’m pretty sure I had memorized the entire script of The Breakfast Club by the time I was in high school. Warts and all, these cultural artifacts mattered to a generation of young people.
Decades later, the two documentaries blend an impressive array of vintage footage and new interviews with many of the original artists and actors (McCarthy was himself one of the teenage actors in John Hughes’ movies). They both tell compelling stories of the experiences and emotions of 1985. But I don’t think I’m alone in finding Nguyen’s retrospective powerful and uplifting while finding McCarthy’s mostly cringeworthy.
The key difference is the central figure in each documentary: Lionel Richie and Andrew McCarthy. Collaborations of songs like We Are the World and movies like The Breakfast Club—and the fame that accompanies them—are unsurprisingly filled with hurdles, egos, and disappointments. Richie narrates the complex logistics of assembling the biggest musical stars of the time, including his unsuccessful recruitment of Prince and the challenges that came with managing other celebrities during the recording. McCarthy focuses on Blum’s article and its characterization of the actor as “brats,” suggesting that the article derailed friendships and careers.
More broadly—and more significantly—Richie and McCarthy could not be more different in the ways they frame their past experiences. Richie exudes awe and appreciation; McCarthy carries grudges and foregrounds disappointment.
The contrast is instructive for the rest of us. Most of our lives are full of unearned gifts and undeserved challenges. We don’t need to ignore or forget the challenges. But gratitude for the gifts—and sometimes even the challenges—can help us see ourselves more more joyfully than might otherwise be possible.
I’ll be taking a break from Some Assembly Required over the next few weeks due to conferences and family travel. If you want a sense of what I’m up to, read the epilogue to Learning to Disagree.
As it happens, I read the epilogue to Learning to Disagree just this morning. It is a wonderful book. I chose to finish it this morning because of my depression caused by last night's "debate." I knew it would improve my mood. We are reading the book in my church's retired men's group (my suggestion). Enjoy those worry free days at the beach!