When I woke up on Sunday, I didn’t realize this was going to be John Hughes week, yet here we are. First, there’s J.C. Penney trying to get all Breakfast Club, and now there’s Pretty in Pink. 

I hadn’t seen this fine slice of cinema in at least a decade, but when I noticed it was on HBO On Demand, I had to take advantage. And you know what? I always think this is the movie where Molly Ringwald’s grandma feels her up, but that’s totally Sixteen Candles.

You know what else? This movie is amazing. 

(Get Pretty… after the jump)

I’ve now seen it at least four times, and this was the first time it made me cry. Is it because I’m older now? Sappier? I don’t know. But when Andie told Blane she was embarassed for him to see where she lived… Whooh. Molly Ringwald’s performance in that scene was just so vulnerable and heartbreaking. And then a few seconds later, when he asked her to the prom in front of the very house she was ashamed of, her relief-mixed-with-joy just destroyed me. Full on tears, you guys.

And then even better… she kissed him. That gesture gave her strength. The fact that Andie is never some wilting flower just waiting for the sunlight of a man is one the reasons the film is so satisfying.

I think that sense of balance–of two people respecting each other as they fall in love–is partly why I cried. Since I’ve gotten into a great relationship, I’ve learned how good it feels to show a vulnerable part of myself and have it be  accepted. No jokes. No judgment. Just love. That’s what happening when Blane asks Andie to prom and she kisses him: They’re sincerely exposing themselves and gaining sincere rewards. 

Okay… there’s also some 80s-style moralizing going on, since the sweet things happen on the poor side of the tracks and the nasty, coke-bingey things happen where the rich people live. But the emotional part rings just as true.

Other things that make this movie awesome? Jon Cryer and Annie Potts, obviously. Really, all the performances.

And I love how, just like …Say Anything, Pretty in Pink is an 80s teen movie with a depressing subplot for an older character. Andie’s dad (Harry Dean Stanton) can’t get a job, can’t get over his wife, and can’t seem to get out of that dirty wife-beater. This is 80s pop psychology at its best: The parents are flailing, so let the young lead us into paradise! The greed of former hippies can only be salved by the potential of the young! And if they’re young and poor, even better! (See also: The Goonies and The Legend of Billie Jean)

Yet none of that stuff matters as much to as the core of the film, which is so sensitive to the soul of the outsider. Pardon me while I go re-watch the scene where Andie stands outside the prom. She’s afraid to go in alone, but she’s determined to do it anyway. Then Duckie comes… and she doesn’t have to be isolated. But we know she could have done it without him, so she’s not all weak… but she still has all these people who love her, and…

… crap. Am I crying again? If J.C. Penney makes a commercial out of this, I’ll end up buying stock.