The Beginning of the End

When I think back to the moment when I went from being a sweet, goody-two-shoes, library monitor child to a blue haired, penis-shaped-earring wearing, running-away-from-home, moving in with a household of skinheads at 15, teenage nightmare, I think I can trace it back to a day in 1980 at the old Bondi Junction Cinema when I saw the movie Foxes. It starred Jodie Foster but for me the big star was Cherie Currie. She played the tragic, bad girl Annie and she changed my life.

For me seeing that movie and falling in girl love with Annie/Cherie Currie was the first step on the road to teenage rebellion. I hadn't thought of that movie and that moment and that time in my life for a very long time. It is funny how such an important moment (and believe me, I knew it was an important moment the minute I came out of that cinema, feeling punch drunk and knowing at a certain level that nothing would ever be the same again) became a blind spot in my memory.

What brought it back into close perspective recently was getting an email from Popcorn Taxi about the upcoming movie The Runaways. I had seen bits in the entertainment media about this movie but hadn't registered much except that it starred that blank faced Kristen Stewart (who seems to have all the personality of a damp kitchen sponge, from what I have seen of her on the teev). I almost deleted the email outright (though Popcorn Taxi have delivered tasty treats in the past, lately there hasn't been much to interest me) but seeing the name Cherie Currie triggered something. An actual lightbulb moment!

The event they were advertising was a preview screening of The Runaways with a live, via satellite, chat with Cherie Currie (actress and member of the actual Runaways). Seeing that name opened a floodgate of memories and I sat shaking at my desk, remembering so clearly coming out of that screening of Foxes 30 years ago and feeling the foundations of my life shift under my feet.

So on 7 July I'll be dragging my long suffering sister to this night of nostlagia, if that is even the right word for it. I don't know anything about the band The Runaways and I didn't know Cherie Currie was in it, so this will be something of a learning experience as well.

All I know right now is that I need to get my hands on a copy of Foxes. In equal parts I desperately want to see it again and I am terrified of seeing it again. I am so scared that actually seeing what is potentially (undoubtedly!) a very poor 80s teenage angst piece of schlock will shatter the exquisite feelings I remember from that time. Is it best to cling onto the memories or watch it again and re-examine it from a 42 year old perspective? What do you think?