Our Winning Season (1978)

          Rehashing themes from American Graffiti (1973), but with a milquetoast approach to storytelling replacing the visionary qualities of George Lucas’ enduring hit, Our Winning Season juggles the bland stories of several 1960s high-school students facing adulthood. Competently directed by Joseph Ruben, who has usually fared better with pulpy genre stories, the picture suffers as much from a lack of distinctive performances as it does from a lack of distinctive characters. Of the principal cast, three actors later gained notoriety, and none of them is is the lead. Future WKRP in Cincinnati costar Jan Smithers plays a young woman wrestling with whether or not to surrender her virginity, future Riptide/Jake and the Fatman TV actor Joe Penny plays the on-again/off-again boyfriend of Smithers’ character, and future A-lister Dennis Quaid portrays one of several interchangeable young men driven to stupidity by raging hormones. The actual leading man of Our Winning Season is Scott Jacoby, who plays an angst-ridden student athlete, and despite putting in a sincere effort, he’s ultimately as forgettable as his role.

          In lieu of a proper overarching storyline, Our Winning Season presents a number of interconnected subplots. David (Jacoby) struggles to overcome the feelings of inadequacy and self-loathing that keep him from achieving greatness as a distance runner. Meanwhile, his sister, Cathy (Smithers), breaks up with her tiresome boyfriend, Dean (Penny), only to reconsider their situation when Dean impulsively joins the Army and explains that he’s headed for Vietnam. Providing would-be comic relief are the misadventures of a teen Casanova named Jerry (Randy Herman), who juggles relationships with two girls at once. (One of Jerry’s ladies is played by cult-fave starlet P.J. Soles, whose presence in the movie is fleeting.)

          In terms of tone, Our Winning Season is all over the place. At its most desperate, the movie provides “wild” scenes of kids getting into trouble, hence the ridiculous shot of a car crashing through the screen at a drive-in theater. At its best, the movie aims for intimate drama with a special focus on the challenges that horny young men face when they first realize they must treat women as more than just sexual objects. Quite often, the movie lands in some unsatisfying place between these extremes. For instance, several necking scenes linger so long that they almost feel like softcore—it’s as if the filmmakers tried a little bit of everything, then cobbled the final movie together from whichever footage seemed to generate visceral reactions. Therefore, even though Our Winning Season steers clear of many obvious traps, the movie is as unfocused as it is unmemorable.

Our Winning Season: FUNKY

Rock ’n’ Roll High School (1979)

          Goofy and irreverent, Rock ’n’ Roll High School playfully updates the youth-run-wild ethos of ’50s teen movies. Built around a girl’s obsession with punk-rock slobs the Ramones—who appear in the film as themselves, mostly during performance scenes—the picture conveys an exaggerated vision of that thrilling moment in life when nothing matters more than music, rebellion, and romance. Better still, the movie is funny as hell, though not in a laugh-out-loud sort of way; rather, the flick’s relentless assault of stupid jokes (with a few genuinely clever gags thrown in for good measure) creates a frenetic, party-like atmosphere that’s almost impossible to resist.

          The heroine of the tale is a teenager named Riff—or, as she calls herself, “Riff Randell, rock ’n’ roller.” As played by the endearing P.J. Soles, Riff is a wild child who’s never met a rule she didn’t want to break. Therefore, when Riff starts getting hassled by Miss Evelyn Togar (Mary Woronov), the psychotic new principal of Riff’s school, a showdown is inevitable. The feather-light plot involves Riff’s quest to get tickets for an upcoming Ramones concert so she can show the band some songs she’s written for them; meanwhile, Togar uses every resource at her disposal to keep Riff from realizing her dream.

          Director Allan Arkush—abetted by his fellow maniacs in Roger Corman’s junk-movie chop-shop—flits around like a honeybee between various subplots, each more outlandish than the last. For instance, Clint Howard plays Eaglebauer, a grown-up hustler running an elaborate business out of a men’s room—for the right fee, he’’ll supply students with advice, dates, drugs, whatever. There’s also a sweet love story involving two nerds. Arkush and co. cram the movie with sight gags that bridge the old-school schtick of Mel Brooks and the insanity of later films like Airplane! (1980). Examples include the tomahawk-wielding Indian lurking near a line of ticket buyers—he’s a scalper, get it?—and the whimsical dream sequence of the Ramones performing in and around Riff’s bedroom, featuring a shot of bass player Dee Dee Ramone rocking out in Riff’s shower while the water’s running.

           All of this is delivered with stick-it-to-the-man insouciance, so even if Rock ’n’ Roll High School is dumb and shallow, there’s an edifying central theme related to the importance of treating kids with respect. Plus, how can anyone dislike a movie containing the line, “Do your parents know you’re Ramones?” Produced on a miniscule budget, Rock ’n’ Roll High School has deservedly gained cult-favorite status over the years, and the makers of the original film should not be held responsible for the existence of the 1991 sequel Rock ’n’ Roll High School Forever, which stars (shudder) Corey Feldman.

Rock ’n’ Roll High School: GROOVY