July 31, 1987 | Slick, savvy and scary, The Lost Boys is a hip horror comedy with the full-throttle excitement of a rollercoaster ride and the pop culture fluency of a Stephen King best seller.
Richly textured, ingeniously written and directed, and skillfully performed by an excellent ensemble cast, it pumps fresh blood into vampire movie clichés, even while maintaining an affectionate respect for traditions of the genre. Look no further: The sleeper hit of the summer is here. And it’s wide awake, looking for action.
Ironically, action appears to be last thing in store for Michael (Jason Patric) and his kid brother Sam (Corey Haim) when they move with their newly divorced mother (Dianne Wiest) to Santa Carla, a quaint California coastal town. The boys are uneasy about their new home with Grandpa (Barnard Hughes), an eccentric taxidermist whose hilltop house is cluttered with tricky bric-a-brac and stuffed specimens. Not only is the place more than a little bizarre — it isn’t even wired for cable. “No MTV!” Sam wails.
The town itself is scarcely more inviting, especially after Grandpa describes Santa Carla as “the murder capital of the world.” But at least it has a lavish seaside amusement park. That’s where Michael meets a mysterious beauty who dresses in thrift-shop haute couture, and hangs out with wild-looking lads on motorcycles. Star (Jami Gertz), a rose among thorns, encourages Michael’s attention, much to the apparent chagrin of David (Keifer Sutherland), the spiky-haired leader of the brazen bikers.
Meanwhile, Sam meets two youngsters his own age, Edgar (Corey Feldman) and Alan Frog (Jamison Newlander), at their well-stocked comic book store. The Frog brothers, short in stature but long on intensity, announce cryptically: “We are dedicated to a higher purpose.” And that purpose, they insist, is ferreting out the undead. They give Sam a comic book, Destroy All Vampires, and a warning: “Think of this book as a survival manual…”
Sam dismisses the Frogs as kooks. But then Michael, who’s spending a lot of time with Star and the bikers, starts to act — well, different. Very different. And soon Sam worries if his own brother will have a stake in his future.
Director Joel Schumacher (St. Elmo’s Fire) and his crafty scriptwriters are meticulous about grounding their humor and horror in everyday situations. Sam’s suspicions about Michael’s signs of nascent vampirism stem from every kid brother’s resentment at being ignored while an older sibling chases after a girl. Later, when Sam wonders if Mom’s new boyfriend (Edward Herrmann) also is a bloodsucker, Sam’s wariness is similar to any child’s response to a potential stepfather.
And the Frog brothers, bless their eager-beaver little hearts, are very familiar contemporary figures, would-be Rambos who play at military maneuvers while scoffing at the peacenik pacifism of their parents. Schumacher doesn’t make a big deal out of this, but if you look in the corner of some shots, you can see two over-age hippies – presumably, Mr. and Mrs. Frog — dozing peacefully while the kids mind the store.
The Lost Boys is chockablock full of inspired touches like that. The surly vampire bikers look a lot like a mid-‘70s glitter-rock band, and make their home in a massive hotel lobby that, after a long-ago earthquake, has settled into an underground cavern. (Bo Welch’s production design is superb.) Hanging in a place of honor on their wall: A huge poster of Jim Morrison, the Lizard King himself. The movie’s theme, appropriately enough, is a new recording of a Doors standard, “People Are Strange.” Yes, indeed they are.
Schumacher drops broad hints that the punkish vampires are society’s discards, runaways or unwanted children who have banded together as hunters to survive. Indeed, their lack of parental love triggers one of the rapid-fire plot twists during the exhilarating climax. In the same vein – no pun intended — you can read Michael’s threatened progression from human to inhuman as a metaphor for AIDS, with the helpless victim initially shunned by loved ones. (“My own brother, a goddamn vampire!”)
Or, if you prefer, you can leave such interpretations to the deep-dish intellectuals, and simply savor The Lost Boys as a film that will make you scream with laughter — and, occasionally, just scream, period. For the most part, the violence is rendered with unexpected restraint, through quick cuts and near-subliminal images. But the shocks are there, along with the guffaws.
Corey Feldman (the abused youngster in Stand By Me) and Jamison Newlander are perfectly cast as the Frogs, who reveal a surprising proficiency just when you’re ready to write them off as feisty blowhards. (They also have one of the movie’s best lines, when faced with a pint-sized vampire.) Kiefer Sutherland is savagely graceful as David, a punkish bloodsucker with a permanent five-o’clock shadow.
Jason Patric is sincere and sympathetic as Michael, Corey Haim is spirited and resourceful as Sam, and Dianne Wiest is the sort of warm and winning mother every growing boy, even a vampire, needs. Edward Herrmann makes the most of a tricky role, and Barnard Hughes delivers a curtain line that sums up all the madcap silliness and spookiness the movie has to offer.
The Lost Boys is a terrific film, a grandly entertaining romp that sends you out of the theater with a buzz of exhilaration, and a satisfied grin of goofy pleasure. In the lobby, or in the parking lot, you’ll want to trade quips and recall choice bits of dialogue with your friends. More important, you’ll want to turn around and see the movie again.
