Some of our Favorite Stars' Unlikely 80s and 90s Horror Roles

Sometimes we forget that it takes years of careful publicist-managed grooming to create a respectable public persona for an actor. Strange as it may seem now, many celebrities who we respect and admire for their legitimate talent were once groveling for B-movie parts. Hey, everyone's got to start somewhere. The bottom seems like as good a first step as any.

Admittedly, not all of the actors on this list are Oscar contenders, but no matter their current position on the fame totem pole, they've certainly come a long way since these early parts. The sheer number of actors who got their start slumming in campy horror flicks are too many to list in a single post, so I present to you a small entertaining slice of now-famous actors' early horror roles. Extra credit has been awarded for worst titles, least necessary sequels, best punny tagline, and cheesiest poster art*.


Jennifer Aniston: Leprechaun


It's a tale as old as time: someone steals an ornery leprechaun's gold coins, they lock him up, the new homeowners release him, and he wreaks havoc by going on a homicidal spree. Same old story. Well, it should be, at least, considering they made 5 follow-up sequels. The most recent (2003) is Leprechaun: Back 2 tha Hood. I can't believe I missed it.



Jennifer Aniston plays the new homeowner terrorized by the deviant little green guy. Lucky for her, she got her big break with Friends later that year. Without the Rachel role, who knows? She could have been starring in Leprechaun: Back 3 tha Hood.



Leonardo DiCaprio: Critters 3
In case you missed the first two installments, let me fill you in. There are these critters, see. And...that's it. The whole thing. A franchise is born.

Critters 3 is the first clip in this montage. DiCaprio's adorable. Almost as cute as the critters.

This is DiCaprio's first film, a breakthrough role in which he deftly maneuvers the role of the evil landlord's stepson. Spooky, right? This stepdad landlord is so evil that he gets comeuppance in the manner of being locked by DiCaprio in the basement with the critters. And you thought your family was dysfunctional.



Eva Mendes: Children of the Corn V: Field of Terror





I'll bet you never realized this film warranted so many sequels, but apparently these Children of the Corn have a lot of stories to tell. Eva Mendes had a major-ish role in this installment, playing a teenager who surrenders to the cult. She can't quite measure up to Alexis Arquette in the lead male role, but she has her moments.


Mariska Hargitay: Ghoulies


Really? Ghoulies? That' a movie? You know it's a top shelf kind of film when the cover has a low-budget monster popping out of a toilet. And the tagline "They'll get you in the end." Get it? Unfortunately. Really, that was the best they could do.

This. Is. Hilarious. If you're a Hargitay fan, I implore you to watch this. You won't be sorry.

Mariska Hargitay may have won us over as tough-on-sex-crimes officer Olivia Benson on Law and Order SVU, but back in 1985 she was accepting roles like "Donna in Ghoulies." You'd think having Jayne Mansfield for a mom would give you an in. You would be wrong.


Jim Carrey: Once Bitten





Aren't vampires hilarious? That was the central thesis of this 1985 vampire horror comedy starring Jim Carrey in his first major role. The plot is almost too ridiculous to warrant an in-depth study, but suffice it to say it was pretty terrible. At least it was a comedy: that's it's primary redeeming feature.



George Clooney: Return of the Killer Tomatoes and Return to Horror High







Clooney's lucky that he's got his good looks to fall back on: not all actors can achieve such monumental fame after starring in such humiliating horror sequels. I don't want to confuse you with too many clever plot details, so suffice it to say both movies involved an unnecessary revisiting of the first films' respectively ridiculous storylines. Things return.



Brad Pitt: Cutting Class




Get it? Cutting? These movie people are just too punny for words. This was Pitt's first major screen role, with his role as hunky high school basketball Dwight Ingalls establishing him as an up-and-comin hearthrob. Dwight Ingalls in possibly the most prototypical late 80s/early 90s movie character name: cheesy yet unlikely. I wonder if they have a mechanism where you can insert a normal-sounding name and then a corny 80s name like "Dash Harrington" or "Kassandra Kellogg" pops out.


Hilary Swank: Sometimes They Come Back Again



How's that for a sequel title? Sometimes They Come Back... Again. Someone on the writing team could use a refresher course on redundancy. Didn't they already come back? Is it really necessary to add that "again?" Especially when you've already got the "sometimes" in there to imply it happens periodically. It just highlights the fact that this movie is totally unnecessary. Well done.



Whatever my qualms with the title, it does have one redeeming quality: a future Oscar winner. Hilary Swank plays the main character's teenage daughter. I'd offer some more useful details, but to be honest I couldn't even make it through the synopsis. It's just that bad.


Katherine Heigl: Bug Buster and Bride of Chucky

I was going to put the Bug Buster trailer right...here but it was so disgusting I thought it better to spare you. YouTube it at your own risk. If you are terrified of bugs like me, it may be traumatizing. Don't say I didn't warn you.

Another two-for-one deal here for former B-movie stardom. Heigl may have caught our attention with her young role in 1994's My Fatehr the Hero opposite Gerard Depardieu, but it was a good 10 years before she caught her big break with Grey's Anatomy**. During this time she did a few stints on the horror circuit, most memorably as sassy teenager Jade Bride of Chucky, the fourth film in the Child's Play series. By this time they weren't even trying anymore; the series was teetering on the edge of self-referential parody.

That same year (1998) Heigl also appeared in Bug Buster, a film about massive mutant underwater cockroaches. Take a second, it's exactly as stupid as it sounds. To the film's credit, Scotty and Sulu from Star Trek are in it. Other than that, it's pretty much a bust...er. Bug Buster. Right.



Somewhere along the way these stars caught their lucky break, but not before paying their dues with some pretty embarrassing horror flick gigs. It may not be their best work, but it'll be a part of their acting canon for life. Or at least they will stick around to forever haunt them in their readily fan-accessible IMDB pages. Spooky.




*The term "art" here has been used loosely
**To be fair, I also liked her on Roswell

Sock'em Boppers

Here's an idea: why not round up the kids for some good old fashioned fistfight practice? Don't worry, we'll give them a pair of comically giant inflatable boxing gloves, first. These youngsters won't have a mark on them after a few rounds in the imaginary ring, but they will get a taste for brutal violence. Sounds like a wise parenting purchase, no?

It's no wonder parent watchdog groups weren't crazy about these blow-up fighting gloves; they may have prevented us from getting too banged up, but they did, after all, promote violent fighting. What message, they asked, were we sending our kids in buying them a product whose sole purpose was to inflict simulated bodily harm on their friends and family? Because they didn't fully understand the lingering impact of a rhetorical question, they answered with, "A pretty terrible one." Not the subtlest of approaches, but hey, they got their point across.

These naysayers, like always, were hell-bent on sucking all of the fun (and in most cases, the inflatability-dependent air) out of a toy we legitimately enjoyed. At a time when parents' choices for toys for their children were increasingly dependent on the presence of some underlying educational value, Sock'em Boppers were not exactly a beacon of enlightenment emanating from the Toys 'R Us shelves.

To be fair to those protesting the toy's violent aim, the pro-Sock'em Boppers arguments were pretty flimsy. Some argued they promoted physical fitness, which might be true but doesn't build their case particularly well. That's like saying, "Well, they might have some aerobic benefit to ordinarily sedentary kids...but only if they really go at it." Others claimed that kids would probably resort to roughousing anyway, so why not give them the luxury of a little padding. It was a small price to pay to save a trip or two to the Emergency Room, right?



Foremost, though, these things were fun. What other reason do you really need to endorse a toy? There was something uniquely exhilarating about beating the crap out of our friends and siblings with no foreseeable consequence. It's no secret that kids have an excess of expendable energy; what better way to release it than in a violent show of fistfighting glory?

The Sock'em Boppers advertisements kept it light, calling them "more fun than a pillow fight." This was, of course, a totally unfounded claim. They never backed it up with empirical research illustrating the perceived fun quotient of Sock'em Bopping to pillow fighting. Technically, this was just their theory, and a convenient one at that. After all, our houses were bursting at the drywall seams with pillows. We could fight with those for free. For these babies, though, our parents would have to shell out ten or fifteen bucks to ensure our hours-enduring amusement.

The marketing strategy behind these was pretty solid. You couldn't buy just one pair of Boppers. Well, yes, technically the store would let you out its doors without sending the Sock'em Bopper-directed legal enforcers after you, but a single pair wouldn't do you much good. Unless you intended for your kid to punch himself in the face for an indeterminate period of play time, you'd have to invest in at least one more set.

What they didn't warn us about, though, was the fact that these oversized air-laden hand guard were susceptible to pop at any moment. It's all fun and games until some kid busts through his Bopper and is left punching his little brother in the face unprotected. I'm not sure away, but fist to face contact is a pretty painful experience. In theory, we were all just one leaky Bopper away from an assault charge.

Danger aside, these gloves had the power to amuse and engage us for hours at a time. We could beat up parents, siblings, friends. The possibilities were endless and the potential was great. Their contribution to the future aggressiveness of impressionable young children was a small price to pay for a toy that could both entertain and wear out an overly energetic and generally exhausting specimen of child. It may not have been parenting at its finest, but it a tradeoff many of our parents were willing to concede in the name of their sanity.



Sock'em Boppers were so much more than just their original boxing glove line; their product catalog include all sorts of other watered-down versions of generally dangerous weapons. No need to worry if fists aren't your weapon of choice: Sock'em Boppers has got you covered with a full array of bop-worthy products. Boxing not your thing? Why not enjoy a round of fencing with our inflatable Sock'em Swords? How about a punching bag? Novelty fist with punchball attached? Our pals at Sock'e thought of everything. Well, everything to amuse violently inclined youth, that is.

Formerly known as Socker Boppers, these rebranded inflatables had been around for dozens of years ebfore their resurgence in the 90s. Socker Boppers were released in the early 70s, meaning these things had been polluting (and possibly rattling from impact) young brains for years by the time we got to them. Boppers are time tested, and apparently they passed. In your face, naysayers. With a Sock'em Bopper, though. So, you know, it won't hurt. That's the whole idea.

These toys are still around, so you still have time to invest in a pair or two if your parents deprived you some much-needed aggression release in your youth. Much like the Slip n' Slide, the potential risk of bodily harm fell a distant second place to the far more compelling fun factor. After all, what fun are toys without a slight injury risk factor? There's a reason they make kids so durable: so they can be punched in the face repeatedly with inflatable boxing gloves and still be asking for more.

Great 90s Movie Cameos

There's something special about an unexpected cameo movie moment; watching celebrities like Neil Patrick Harris or Mike Tyson play humorously warped versions of themselves in Harold and Kumar or The Hangover tickles our collective fancy in a way that few comedic situations can. Whether the celebrity is playing a version of themself or another bit part entirely, the element of surprise is usually enough to bring us on board with the choice and applaud the creativity and wit of the casting team.

It's the old It's a Mad, Mad, Mad World trick. For those of you out the who never saw the classic 1963 comedy, it featured cameos from what seemed to be every comedian living at the time of filming. It seemed their attitude was if one guest star can bolster the humor, hundreds will make it rip-roaringly hilarious.

There's some debate over what constitutes a cameo. Certainly playing yourself will get you a bona fide cameo credit, but what about appearing onscreen in a small unpublicized role? The jury's not quite in on that one, but for the sake of enjoying these moments at face value wihtout nitpicking over pop culture afficionado sense of superiority-building details, we'll include them in our list.

For your convenience, cameos have been arranged by arbitrary types. These aren't industry standard labels; in fact, I just made them up. That said, you're welcome to use them as you will in everyday conversation...but only if you end that conversation with a hearty endorsement of www.childrenofthenineties.com. You've got to say the whole URL or else face some serious copyright infringement allegations. Sorry, I looked into it. The regulations are airtight.



The "In" Joke

This type of cameo usually has some sort of underlying punchline that's not overtly stated, but it amusing if you know what you're looking at. If done well, it's meta-comedy at its finest. There's a lot of potential for flopping here, so any movie that pulls off the trick deserves some major accolades.


Martin Sheen in Hot Shots Part Deux



This is pure genius on so many levels. The reference to Martin Sheen's roles in Platoon and Apocalypse Now! combined with the shout out (literally) for their joint film Wall Street. This is the ultimate meta-reference cameo. It just goes to show, when it works, it works.


Don Ameche and Ralph Bellamy in Coming to America



Okay, okay, so sue me; this isn't technically from the 90s, but I love it so much that 1988 will have to be close enough to make the list. Also, the quality of the clip is atrocious, but it's something you can willingly overlook in the name of good crossovers. Ameche and Bellamy reference their roles as Randolph and Mortimer in the earlier Murphy vehicle Trading Places. The cameo is just brief and fleeting enough to be likable.



The Out-Of-Left-Field Whammy

These appearances present a picture totally and inexplicably out of sync the actor or celebrity's perceived character. They're not playing themselves (see "The Extras Approach" below), but they're playing a character as whom we wouldn't have thought to cast them.


Bob Saget in Half Baked



For those of us unfamiliar with Saget's raunchier stand-up, this was the ultimate out-of-left field whammy. Danny Tanner would never say this. Interestingly enough, the line is dubbed for cable TV as Saget saying he sucks "feet" for coke. That actually just made it so much worse.


Dave Letterman in Cabin Boy



I'll say up front, this is not a great movie. It's not even a good movie. This cameo, in fact, is probably Cabin Boy's only major redeeming feature.

Dave Letterman as...salty fisherman? It just doesn't add up. His acting is nothing to write home about, but there's something legitimately funny about this scene. Unfortunately, that's something of an anomaly for Cabin Boy. Writer and star Chris Elliot was a former writer on Letterman's show, so it's only fair for him to give his old boss his due by letting Letterman call him a "fancy lad."


Mel Gibson in Fathers' Day

It's official...no footage of this cameo exists online in any visual aid-style format. You'll just have to watch the movie for yourself.

Well,at least it was out of left field when we still knew Gibson as a heartthrob leading man and not a religious enthusiast with occasional tendencies to spew anti-Semitic remarks and refer to waitresses as "Sugar Tits." I believe Gibson is credited as something like "pierced guy" in this movie.


Elvis Costello in Spice World


Actually, make that Elvis Costello, Elton John, Meatloaf, Bob Geldof, Anthony Hopkins...what exactly are all of these respectable people doing taking bit parts in Spice World? It baffles the mind. Perhaps they were all just serious supporters of girl power.


Alanis Morissette in Dogma



This technically could also be characterized as The Big Surprise, particularly because it comes close to the end of the movie. The Out-of-Left-Field Whammy on this one is that apparently Kevin Smith thinks the celebrity who best exemplifies godliness is Alanis Morissette. It's a little bit ironic, don't you think? By her standards, I mean. Not in the actual sense of irony in its proper usage.


The Big Surprise

We don't know why exactly they're there, but we're thankful they showed up. This sometimes requires a double take to determine the star's identity, usually because either a)they are in disguise b)their appearance was unadvertised and unexpected or c) it is really, really unlikely that they would agree to this.


Billy Crystal in The Princess Bride



Some might argue this is more of a small role than a cameo, but Crystal's disguised appearance tilts my judgment more toward a Big Surprise cameo.


Charleton Heston in Wayne's World 2



Really? Charleton Heston in Wayne's World 2? Really?


Christopher Walken in Pulp Fiction



This is a great movie and a great scene. Walken owns this cameo, if you want to classify it as such. It's just one of the best. Short but utterly memorable.


Alec Baldwin in Glengarry Glen Ross



Remember when Alec Baldwin used to play serious roles? There's some debate as to whether his brief seven minute appearance in the film constitutes a cameo or just a bit part, but there's a general consensus about his skill and adeptness with the role. Geez, he was skinny here. To his credit, though, he's still got that hair.



The Extras Approach

If you've never seen the HBO series Extras, here's a quick run-down of the premise. A celebrity plays a twisted tongue-in-cheek version of him or herself that doesn't usually mesh with their public persona.


Billy Idol in The Wedding Singer


I can only hope that if I ever get bumped to first class, Billy Idol will introduce me over the mike. He's such a badass. Idol still pulls off his 80s look so many years later. Well, sort of. At least as much as he did the first time around.


Bob Barker in Happy Gilmore



I always knew Barker had it in him. Barker beats up Happy Gilmore when they're unfortunately paired for a celebrity golf tournament, and let me tell you, it is awesome. Bob Barker is such a sport for agreeing to this completely ridiculous cameo.


Brett Favre in There's Something About Mary

Geez, Favre has been around a long time. I used to have a huge crush on him, which was taboo for me as a Vikings fan. Luckily, now I have a legitimate license to swoon over this scene. Favre is actually pretty funny, here, too. Sometimes these athlete cameos fall flat, but he works it smoothly.


The Good Sport

Whether you're the subject of a biopic or forced to endure a questionable remake of a film you starred in years earlier, these lesser-noticed cameos prove their subjects to be good sports about the whole ordeal.



John Lovell in Apollo 13



I couldn't find a better still or video clip, but the back of that navy captain's head is the real astronaut Mr. John Lovell himself, congratulating his fictional biopic self (Tom Hanks). After all he went through, he absolutely deserves some screen time. And, you know, a whole movie detailing the failure of his mission. That would work, too.


Erin Brockovich in Erin Brockovich


The real Erin Brockovich appears in her eponymous film as waitress wearing a nametag bearing the name "Julia." Get it? Because Julia Roberts is playing her? What will these writers come up with next?


Larry Flynt in People vs. Larry Flynt


Yep, that's Flynt himself at 1:01, filling in a cameo as the judge in the movie about his own life. Like most Good Sport cameos, it's a brief one, but it's a respectable nod to the man himself.


These scenes won't usually make or break a movie, but they do have the power to entertain us on a totally unexpected level. A cameo is like a little surprise party; you go in expecting things to be business as usual, and then the unforeseen kicks in and spices it up. Whatever the style or reason behind these bit roles, you've got to appreciate the celebrity's willingness to play along. More often than not, their few minutes onscreen will be the ones we go on to remember.

Friends

Rarely does a sitcom become as pervasive and persistently popular as Friends. It maintained a surprisingly consistent level of quality and popularity throusghout its ten-year run, particularly for a show that was based on such a simple premise. As the name implies, the subject matter in question was, put simply, friends. Apparently all it takes is a group of eclectic and mismatched personality types with a penchant for local coffee houses living in unrealistically mammoth and well-decorated Manhattan apartments to hold our attention. Who knew?

Friends's large ensemble cast was a great credit to its success, utilizing six then lesser-known twenty-something actors as principals with relatively equal screen time. So many sitcoms gave us a main character or two with a smattering of conveniently prominent or absent sidekick roles, so it was refreshing to see such a strong balance of multiple main characters. Conceived by David Crane and Marta Kauffman in the early 90s, they sought to explore the lives of young adults making it on their own for the first time in a fast-paced New York setting. Kauffman and Crane teamed up with producer Kevin Bright to develop a show that captured a relatively universal experience of finding oneself post-college.



Tentatively (thankfully) entitled Insomnia Cafe, the trio pitched the show to NBC in late 1993. NBC liked the idea, so the three went to work on their pilot now somewhat less tentatively called Friends Like Us. They also liked the pilot, investing in the series that the creators now called Six of One. Who knew a show could cycle through so many terrible working titles before even going into full-scale production? Especially considering the final choice for title ended up being such a no-brainer. As Chandler Bing might say, "Could it be any simpler?"

That level of simplicity was what sold not only NBC but a vast proportion of the sitcom-viewing public on this fledgling show. The creators' original pitch for show described it as being "[...about sex, love, relationships, careers, a time in your life when everything's possible. And it's about friendship because when you're single and in the city, your friends are your family," giving the premise an open-ended array of endless scenarios, couplings, and experiences for its main characters.

As so many of us children of the 90s are just now coasting through that stage of our lives that Bright, Kauffman, and Crane envisioned as the universal connecting experience to bolster the show's appeal, it's strange to think so many of us were major fans of the show at a point in our life that in no way intersected with that of the major characters. At the time of its premiere in 1994, I was only nine years old, yet somehow my friends and I were convinced we found the show hilarious. More likely is that we initially found it a little bit confusing; a vast proportion of the humor and situations certainly must have gone straight over our heads. It was just so likable, though, that we couldn't help getting caught up in the Friends fervor,

At the time, Ross, Rachel, Monica, Chandler, Phoebe, and Joey seemed like such grown ups to me and my peers, so it's always odd catching an early episode in syndicated rerun and realizing that I'm possibly now as old as or older as they were then. If you never got into it or haven't seen any of the early seasons in a few years, you might want to invest a few hours in doing so. There's a reason the show became such a quick hit: the producers nailed their intended delivery of that universal twenty-something experience. Their pitch about your friends being your family may be a little cheesy, but it also rings true for so many of us at the stage in our life between extended adolescence and responsible parenthood,.

So much of the show's charm lay in the quirkiness and depth of its characters; without their idiosyncratic personalities and strong performances from the cast of comically gifted actors, there would be no show. The majority of the action focused on our six principal characters:

Chandler Bing



The One With All The Sarcasm. Chandler is the resident wise-cracking smartass, always quick to issue a cutting quip or a self-deprecating witticism. He's wound up pretty tightly, though his eventual marriage to Monica gave him a more playful side.



Phoebe Buffay



The One With The Offbeat, Out There Personality. Phoebe not only marched to the beat of her own drummer, she seemed to have invented a new style of drumming entirely. Her singer/songwriter escapades at the local Central Perk coffee shop feature gems like "Smelly Cat", which is indeed about a cat with a less-than-appealing odor. I suppose her eclectic early years on the street could be the source of her general oddity, so all in all she turned out pretty okay.

Rachel Green



The One With the Semi-Reformed Princess Behavior Tendencies. We first meet Rachel in the debut episode as a rain-soaked bride who left her groom at the altar, claiming she was getting married for all the wrong reasons. Once something of a spoiled brat, her reconnection with childhood friend Monica sets on her on, if not a totally straight path, at least a less wavy and more grounded one. Rachel's on-again-off-again with Ross is a major plot point throughout the show's ten-year lifespan.


Monica Gellar



The One With The Serious Neuroses. Monica is as obsessive compulsive and anal retentive as they come, so it's a good thing Courtney Cox managed to make her so charming. The show had originally wanted to cast Cox as Rachel, but she preferred the Monica role and convinced them she could make it her own. Monica is Ross's sister, Rachel's childhood friend, and Chandler's eventual wife. Oh, and she also used to be fat--that's one of the show's favorite retrospective punchlines, often through fat suit technology.


Ross Gellar



The One With the All the Lovable Nerdiness. It takes a special kind of endearingly intellectual guy to not only choose a career path in paleontology but also to bore his friends with the details. Ross's first wife turned out to be a lesbian, though the truth didn't come out until after she became pregnant with his son. Ross excels in karate, is a sometime-monkey daddy, and has compelling evidence that he and Rachel were indeed on a break at that crucial juncture in their relationship.


Joey Tribbiani



The One With Limited Intellectual Capacity. It's okay, he gets all the ladies, so it's really sort of a trade-off. All he has to do was issue a signature, "How you doin'?" and the women were putty in his hands. Joey and Chandler were roommates for a bulk of the sitcom's run, with the two engaging in all sorts of comedic apartment-sharing situations. He is a sometimes-working actor, most notably for his role as Dr. Drake Ramoray on Days of Our Lives. Joey was the only one to get his one spin-off, though I think we all know how that turned out.

Friends kept the writing sharp over its extensive ten-year run, a stretch that would leave many lesser sitcoms grasping at cop-out storylines. That's not to say Friends didn't use its fair share of guerrilla ratings tactics: inane plot twists, surprise couplings, and most notably the end-of-season leave-us-on-the-edge-of-our-seats-and-stick-us-with-three-months-of-reruns-why-don't-you cliffhangers. Those things were brutal. What's that? Ross said Rachel's name instead of Emily's at his wedding? And now we have all summer to contemplate the repercussions? Awesome. I was hoping to work on my tan and read the classics, but now I'm stuck pondering this one for all of my waking hours until it can be resolved in the fall season premiere.

It was all part of the show's signature charm, though. Sure, there was a fair amount of reliance on gimmicks and well-worn sitcom territory, but the cast chemistry and smart writing brought in all together in a new way. If you flip on your TV at any given time of evening or night, you're pretty likely to find Friends still playing on at least three or four different channels in multiple timeslots. It's perseverance in syndication speaks volumes to its impact and success. More importantly, though, it's funny. When so few sitcoms actually make us laugh, it's a legitimate claim to fame to be The One With All of the Good Jokes.

Polly Pocket and Mighty Max

What better toy to give curious young oral fixators than a little compact full of tiny, swallowable, and potentially delicious component pieces? These things were a choking hazard waiting to happen. In some cases, it didn't wait; it just hacked and coughed and received the child-size version of the Heimlich Maneuver. Yech.

Even with the building safety concerns over offering children protozoan-proportioned playthings, Polly Pocket and Mighty Max quickly became some of the most popular toys around. It seemed kids just couldn't get enough of the pocket-sized playsets. A brief choking stint was more than worth it in exchange for a chance to carry around an entire action figure universe in your pocket. I mean, really.

The concept behind Mighty Max and Polly Pocket was roughly the same mold adjusted for preset gender stereotypes. Both play sets featured small plastic cases that opened into a miniature dollhouse or action figure setting. Inside the fun chamber lay a slew of tiny hard plastic figurines and movable set pieces. There were all types of different scenarios and settings, but these toys were generally appealing on the basis of their small-size gimmick.

Unfortunately, their extreme portability made Mighty Max and Polly Pocket pieces extremely prone to loss. At approximately an inch or so in height, these toys were probably too small to be entrusted in the care of small children. Once you lost the main characters, the entire playset was rendered utterly useless until your parents came through with replacements. All in all, probably not the most well thought-out children's toy venture.

Logic aside, these things were hot sellers; their tininess was a novelty on which we couldn't afford to miss out. We could take these things anywhere. It was a pretty creative idea, of course: a dollhouse that fits in your pocket. It's like the doll version of a smartphone. Something that used to be a sedentary activity with a lot of bulky hardware was reduced to a convenient pocket-sized item that works on-the-go. Not totally necessary, but once someone has one we've all got to scramble for ownership.

The premise may have been the same for the Polly Pocket and Mighty Max toys, but the nature of the miniature worlds were vastly different. I was a Polly Pocket girl myself, but after further examination of the Mighty Max product line, I'm feeling just a smidgen underwhelmed with my tiny toy selection. Let's take a quick peek at what Mattel had to offer us, shall we? I think you might get an idea of what I mean.


The girls got this:

With a jazzy theme song like that, how could you deny the allure of these pearlized plastic chambers?

Whereas the boys got this:


Yes, that's right. Your eyes do not deceive you; girls get a little pink seashell-style enclosed dollhouse with a giggly cartoon spokessprite, and boys get a Skull Dungeon. In the boys' version, our hero sends a Frankenstein-esque monster plummeting to his death from the second story of the evil doctor's lair. In the girls', to contrast, our little blond darling gleefully enjoys a ride on a playground slide. Unsurprisingly, the girl version of the toy originated from a dad setting up his daughter with a super sweet makeup compact-cum-dollhouse. The boys' incarnation, we can only speculate, originated from awesome.

It may not have been a politically correct gender divide, but it was pretty standard toy marketing for the 90s. The girls got the vapid but cute dollies and boys get the guts and gore. It was just the natural McDonald's Happy Meal-style female/male breakdown.

That's not to say there was no gender cross-over with these things, though I'd put pretty strong odds that more parents felt comfortable buying Mighty Max toy sets for their daughters than Polly Pocket for their sons. There were also many, many more points of interaction available with the Mighty Max franchise. The Polly Pocket mini playshells may have come first, but the Mighty Max toys branched out into a legitimate mini-media empire.

Mighty Max became an animated TV series in 1993, following the adventures of young "Cap-Bearer" Max. Max receives in the mail a magical hat that granted him the power to transport him all over the world to fight evil in all of its monstrous cartoon incarnations. It had plenty of charm, plus it didn't hurt that Rob Paulsen provided the voice of Max. For those of you unfamiliar with his work, we're talking about the voice of Raphael from Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles, Pinky and Yakko from Animaniacs (and later Pinky and the Brain), and Throttle from Biker Mice from Mars. I know, I know. Throttle. I'll give you a few moments to gather yourself following such exciting animation revelations.



Nintendo subsequently developed the Mighty Max character into a Super Nintendo game, leaving Polly Pocket in the toy empire dust as she languished in her makeup compact-style shell shaped mini-playhouses. Mighty Max had quickly grown into a small-scale multimedia franchise. To be fair, from a Super Nintendo perspective it's way more fun to battle evil zombies than to play quietly with friends in your upstairs nursery. Polly Pocket just didn't have the cross-marketing potential to be developed into a game like this one:




In comparison, the Polly Pocket empire was far more modest. To its credit, though, it ended up the franchise with the most staying power.

So, to review. Girls donned shiny ballerina tutus to hang with Polly, Dana, Stephanie, Billy, Becky in one of these:



And boys fought nuke rangers and neutralized zomboids in one of these:



It may not be a particularly enlightened marketing strategy, but hey, it worked. We all got what we wanted, more or less. In my case, I'm tempted to say less. I could have battled the killer T-Rex in the dino lab. Instead, I lost valuable formative hours revealing wrapped stuffed animals in Polly's Party-Time Surprise. Yes, that's right; I might have ended up with aspirations to be an adventure-seeking archeologist, but instead I learned the value of always bringing a well-wrapped birthday present with a shimmery bow. Reach for the stars.

Children of the 90s' Pop Girl Group Playlist

If you're looking to beat those Oh-My-God-How-Is-It-Still-Not-The-Weekend-Yet blues, look no further than this 90s pop girl group playlist. Alternately, it can also serve as a soothing remedy for those pesky post St. Paddy's Day hangovers. If you keep the volume very, very low, I mean.

The 90s is so often characterized as major era of boy bands, but the decade saw more than its fair share of wildly popular girl groups as well. They operated largely on the same principles: nonorganic formation through open casting calls, careful harmony arrangements, synchronized dancing moves galore. Whatever beef you may have with their impact on the legitimate singer/songwriter/musician profession, you've got to admit that they churn out some toe-tapping singles. One of these songs comes on and there's a pop-and-lock reflex we succumb to; I'm pretty sure I picked it up subliminally from my days of shaking to Darrin's Dance Grooves on VHS.

So throw your cautious music taste to the wind and give in to these guilty pleasures. They'll undoubtedly have you singing along at the top of your voice. Just don't make the mistake of leaving your car windows down--these are more than sure bets to induce all sorts of music superiority-gloating glances from your judgmental roadmates.


Wannabe (Spice Girls)


Spice Girls - Wannabe
Uploaded by starboymcfly. - Explore more music videos.

Ah, the classic. If by classic you mean gratingly shrill, then it's a perfect fit. Truthfully, you can criticize this song all you want but you'd be hard-pressed to find someone who grew up in the 90s who doesn't know all or most of the lyrics. It was just a pervasive part of popular youth culture, so you might as well embrace it. I heard if you do they'll treat you to a zig-a-zig-ah, so you've got that going for you.


Say My Name (Destiny's Child)



Remember when Beyonce wasn't just the leotard-donning star of the infamous Kanye-approved "Single Ladies" video or the cameo in Gaga's "Telephone?" With all her recent success, it's easy to forget that she's been in the game for so many years. Not just in the game, but winning it; this girl's been a part of more number-one hits than most musicians can aspire to in a lifetime. In the 90s, the Beyonce-fronted Destiny's Child released single after hot single. Admittedly their lineup changed over the years, but whoever was showing up at the studio that day always brought it.


Where my Girls At (702)



Whatever happened to 702? With the incredible popularity of their single "Where My Girls At" they seemed poised to be the next up-and-coming girl group. As unbelievable as it sounds, the group was discovered by Sinbad. I know, I know. I don't even mean the adventuring Middle Eastern sailor of legendary lore; that would almost make more sense. No the actor/comedian Sinbad caught these girls singing in the lobby of a Vegas hotel, went and chummed up with their parents to grant him rights to drag them to a music show in Atlanta, and the rest, as they say, was history. Really, really weird history.


My Lovin (You're Never Gonna Get It) (En Vogue)


Try to listen to this song without breaking into a lightly treaded backup of "No, you're never gonna get it/never never gonna get it." It's nearly impossible. Would you expect anything less from a group whose album is titled "Funky Divas"?


C'est La Vie (B*Witched)



Just look at those moves! They just don't cut girl groups from the same cheesy pop-and-lock choreography cloth that they used to. Enjoy this one in the true traditional spirit of St. Patrick's Day: drunk. No, no, actually you can just enjoy their bagpipe solo. Yes, really.


I Want You Back (Jackson 5 cover by Cleopatra)



I know, I know...I just as easily could have chosen their "Cleopatra--Coming Atcha" theme, but that seems like the easy way out. Plus, I still have this on all of my running and car trip playlists. This 1998 cover of their song "I Want You Back" may not have been as authentic as the Jackson 5 original, but it manages to capture the same breezy tone and catchiness. And hey, look on the bright side. I could have subjected you to Cleopatra's "Thank ABBA for the Music." Then we'd really be in trouble.*


Never Ever (All Saints)



As far as lengthy intros go, this is one of the most extensive. It's not even really an intro anymore--they may well have made it into a full spoken track, it's that long. It really builds anticipation for the main event, though, doesn't it? You just can't wait to find out what happens next. Spoiler alert: they sing.

If that just doesn't do it for you, maybe their debut "I Know Where It's At" will do it for you. I know it's left me scratching my head over what exactly happened to all those old mix tapes with this song on it. This used to be my jam in my maroon station wagon:




Waterfalls (TLC)



Many of us probably could enjoy this song a bit more in our blissful ignorance of young naivete; nowadays, we're forced to confront its message of drugs, violence, and irresponsible sexual behavior. In lieu of letting the cautionary tale get us down, maybe we should just watch the video and enjoy these girls grooving on the water. It's pretty cool, actually.


He Loves U Not (Dream)



This song came up on shuffle on my iPod the other day and I almost had a heart attack. How have I managed not to mention this song somewhere on this blog in the year it's been up and running? Granted, it technically came out in 2000, but it's just quintessential 90s girl group pop. Contrived, well-executed, and complete with a video full of colorfully dressed jailbait popping their heads back and forth in a sassy, in-your-face way.


No More (3LW)



This was also in 2000, so we were starting moving into a bit of a different sound. The general girl group principles still apply though, right down to the cutesy lisp in the first verse. 3LW cleverly stands for "3 Little Women," who didn't stay little too long. Like all good girl groups, their story ends in some petty squabbling that escalated into we-can-no-longer-appear-onstage-together level girlfights.


Push It (Salt N Pepa)



Just look at them pop in the VHS at the beginning of the video. Kids growing up today wouldn't even understand what's going on. A scary thought, right? My favorite part, though, is probably when they cut to a Girl Scout rockin' out in the crowd somewhere around 1:12. She looks all hopped up on Thin Mints and Samoas and she likes it. Thankfully she at least looks old enough to be audience to the racy lyrics. Whew.


Like all guilty pleasures, these songs should be enjoyed sparingly and as a part of a balanced musical diet featuring artists who play their own instruments. That said, there's no harm in occasionally venturing to the musical equivalent of the top corner of the food pyramid. The experience will likely be just as sweet and with comparable levels of artificial ingredients.




*Is it wrong to admit that I also have "Thank ABBA for the Music" on my iPod? Feel free to judge me, but I'll feel equally free to tell you it's awesome. Well, maybe not awesome, but at least serviceable. Okay, okay, fine. It might make your ears explode. Happy?

Jumanji

You know how we sometimes say we'll look back on a dark time in our life and laugh in retrospect? Well, such was the case with the 1995 film version of Jumanji. How were we to know that a dozen odd years later, the CGI animals that had so terrified us and had induced endless nightmares would seem like cuddly Disney animations in comparison to today's true-to-life graphics?

Facetiousness aside, the effects in the film absolutely deserve their due. At the time, Jumanji utilized some of the most advanced CGI technology available. Sure, the visual effects cower in the shadow of more recent digital imagery trailblazers like Avatar, but in the mid-90s that level of realism was almost unfathomable. In the three years between Jurassic Park and Jumanji, I probably slept a total of 12 hours. Heck, even Men in Black gave me nightmares, so just imagine the damage that could be done with a computer-animated stampede of rhinocerouses charging across my screen. Had 3-D technology been available for this movie, I'd have been a goner.

Jumanji originated as a 1981 children's book by Chris Van Allsburg, serving as a sort of cautionary for what can happen when magic-tinged board games go very, very wrong. The 1995 film version adhered largely to the same story, though it did introduce some colorful new grown-up characters like Robin William's wacky woodsman Alan Parrish. The movie tries its best to give us a legitimate backstory for a fantasy tale as it weaves a yarn filled with arbitrary details like a shoe factory, a bully, and a bicycle. If you're not scratching your head yet at this movie-built premise, don't worry: you will be.



To his credit, Robin Williams makes a great man-child. It's what he did best in the 90s, so he was a pretty natural casting choice for the role of Alan Parrish. The movie begins in the 19th century as we watch a pair of fear-stricken young boys bury an ominous looking chest deep in the woods. When one asks the other what happens if someone digs it up, his pal replies darkly, "May God have mercy on his soul." How's that for a bright and cheery beginning?

Fast forward to the late 60s, where middle schooler Alan Parrish faces daily lashings at the hand of a school bully. Alan meddles a bit in production at his father's shoe factory and causes some shake-up. To make matters worse, he gets beat up outside the factory and his bike is stolen by the aforementioned bullies. Just when he thinks his day couldn't sink any further into the annals of adolescent desperation, Alan stumbles upon a dusty drum beat-emitting game box at a construction site.



Alan's father is displeased with him and wants to send him to boarding school, so in typical rational well-thought out childlike fashion, Alan decides to run away. Not, though, before laying into the mysterious game he unearthed earlier that day. Alan's classmate Sarah comes over with his stolen bicycle and the two embark on a game of Jumanji. It's totally creepy, but the kids are getting really into it. When it's Alan's turn, a frightening message appears on the game board: "In the jungle you must wait, until the dice read five or eight." He's then unceremoniously sucked into the veritable vacuum of the Jumanji world, presumably never to be seen again.




Until, that is, a new family moves into the house a quarter century later. Peter and Judy (Kirsten Dunst) are recent orphans on the move with their new guardian, Aunt Nora, but even newcomers like them can sense this house is incredibly sketchy and potentially haunted. Those damned drumbeats start again, reissuing their generation-spanning intoxicating pull over children. Judy and Peter come across the Jumanji board in the attic, and although it's pretty clear to the rest of us that this is the worst idea in the world, they immediately begin playing. I'm not sure why ominous drum beats never seemed like a warning sign to anyone in this movie, only an invitation. Go figure.

As you might expect, things quickly take a turn for the frightening and fantastical. Giant insects and roaming animals take up shop in their home, but the board swears to them it'll all be cool if they just keep playing. Right. Peter rolls a five and Alan's late-60s prophecy is broken, releasing the jungle man back into the civilized confines of his former dwelling. Oh, and there's also a lion. Did I not mention the lion? Because it is terrifying. Even now, it still scares me a little. That thing is growly.



Alan cleans up a bit and does some investigating into his old life, finding that his father searched relentlessly for him throughout the remainder of his life. Now that Peter and Judy have released havoc on their sleepy New Hampshire town, they can't seem to keep the game moving; the board seemingly issues a cease and desist on their gameplay, leaving us to fear this lion-infested world is the new permanent norm. Alan realizes that they've been playing a continuation of the game he played with his friend Sarah, so they go off to seek her out. How exactly a man who was sequestered to the jungle at 12 had such powerful deductive reasoning skills is beyond my grasp, but in a world where gameboards release swarms of killer mosquitoes it seems that anything can happen.

The gang head's over to Sarah's and discover she's become a shut-in, forever reliving the trauma of her Jumanji experience. I'm sure the one thing this Jumanji-traumatized lady wants to do is pick up playing right where she left off and cut her nearly-healed psychological wounds right back open again. Sarah (Bonnie Hunt) is not having it, so they are forced to trick her into playing her turn.



Alan reaches out to Carl, the man his father fired from his factory for Alan's mistake. Carl (David Alan Grier) is now a policeman and is thus pulled in to all of this havoc-wreaking chaos on the town. Here's where things get all sorts of terrifying. We get a full big game jungle stampede, people-snatching giant vines, a long-trapped hunter, and a batty pelican that interferes with their quest to finish the game once and for all. Peter tries to cheat and turns into a monkey, which is a pretty harsh means of teaching kids to practice good sportsmanship. Giant flowers eat police cars, the kids battle the hunter, and things continue to spiral downward at a rapid code red pace.



Our man Alan finally takes the game and cries out with the requisite "Jumanji!" All of the craziness gets sucked back into the game board. After all that scariness, this movie partakes in the ultimate reset button function and sets us all back at zero. Sarah and Alan get to return to 1969 and set everything right. Alan tells his father what he did to Carl, and Mr. Parrish rehires him. Plus, Alan doesn't have to go to boarding school and the Jumanji board is forever buried in the water. Hooray!



Time scoots forward yet again and Alan and Sarah are happily married. As if all of that wrong-righting hadn't been enough, these do-gooders convince Peter and Judy's now still-living parents (did you follow that?) not to take what Alan knew to be their ill-fated skiing trip. I just knew there had to be some impact on that darned space-time continuum.



As we come to end, we find that Jumanji has not, as presumed, been laid to rest. We get our scary drum beats again, and some French girls walking along the beach are mere feet away from the game washed up upon their shore. Just when you thought it was safe, they pull the rug from under you, leaving us to speculate the future terrors that lie ahead in a world where computer animation has grown not only more advanced but progressively more realistically frightening. Yikes.

Together at Last--They Finally Did It (AKA TV Shows that Eventually Alleviated Crucial Plot-Centric Romantic Tensions)

Will they or won't they? It's a classic sitcom cliche that keeps us as viewers hungry for more romantically tense moments between principal characters. Any current fan of The Office can certainly attest to the deflating plot cycle that accompanies the realization of a will-they-or-won't-they couple: once Jim and Pam got together, the mystery and intrigue of their friendship dissipated quickly into mundane territory. If the writers opt to resolve the major underlying plotline, it can be tough to come up with material that will appeal to fans on an equal level to that of unresolved sexual tension.

In many cases, the answer to the infamous "Will they or won't they" question turns out to be yes, leading to one of two options. In some cases, the writers may get it just right and time their suppressed romantic unions at either the end of the series or as a natural climax of a story arc. More often, though, the show veers into distinct shark-jumping territory, proving that the picture of reality can never measure up to that of the viewer's fantasy. We're all rooting for the subjects of the unresolved romantic tension to live happily ever after, but when we get to see it for ourselves we realize that there's a reason many fairy tales cut off at this point. It's a bit boring to watch two people who were once witty and interesting devolve into a happy but generally mundane couple. If we want to see people trade in their excitement for marriage and kids, we could just look to real life. It just can't sustain the same level of interest.

Love it or hate it, these shows eventually gave these would-be couples their due. Whether it culminated in an Era of TV Good Feelings or left us a bit cold, at least we got our answer to "Will they or won't they?" In all of these cases, apparently, they will.


Ross and Rachel



Here's a sitcom that shows us how to do the romantic tension story arc right. As long as Friends was on the air, it's shocking they managed to draw out the uncertainty over the scope of ten seasons. If executed poorly, this could have caused a major backlash from viewers, but the writers played it well enough to keep fans on their toes. Ross and Rachel were pretty persistent; even having a baby together wasn't enough to dissolve their tension. In the series finale, the couple finally gets their moment in the sun. After arguing over whether or not they had been on a break or not, of course. What would they be without their quintessential schtick?


Joey and Dawson



Remember, if you can think back this far, to a time before Katie Holmes was some repressed silent-birthing Scientologist mommy. Way back, back to when she was Joey on Dawson's Creek, epitomizing the girl next door prototype. Joey and Dawson were best friends, but their eventual coupling proved the old When Harry Met Sally adage about opposite sex friendships to be true. These two had an on-again-off-again sort of thing going throughout the seasons. They were together, then they weren't, then they were, then they sort of were, then...well, you get the idea. Repeat ad infinitum.


Sam and Diane



What fun is a sitcom without all of the sharp witty banter? Apparently not much, based on the way our once dagger-tongued Cheers were reduced to cuddly bunnies as they succumb to romance. The show managed to hold its audience even with the realized romance, though the eventual recreated "Will they or won't they" scenario of Sam and Rebecca failed to measure up to the tension of the original.


Fran and Maxwell



So much of The Nanny's charm was in the sassy quick-witted banter between boss Maxwell Sheffield and nanny Fran Fine, a tension that the writers managed to uphold for the better part of five seasons before caving to the temptation of uniting the subjects of their unresolved sexual tension. At this point, everything sort of unravels, eventually culminating in the sixth season ridiculousness of CC and Niles' wedding and Fran giving birth to Maxwell's twins.


David and Maddie



Moonlighting was a bit before my time, but I just can't in good conscience leave out the classic example. When Maddie and David break through their tension in the second season and consummate their romance, the show went into a steep decline. Producers gave a last-ditch effort to recreate the mystery by haphazardly marrying Maddie off to some random guy in the final season, but their efforts were to no avail. Between that and the fact that Cybil Shepherd's scenes had to be shot in advance due to her pregnancy, the once boiling-over chemistry of the costars eventually cooled to a tepid standstill.


Daphne and Niles



If we learned anything from Frasier, it's that it's tough to maintain a steady high quality of plot writing over 11 seasons. The romantic tensions between Daphne and Niles had been building for several seasons, but the writers tried to throw us off the scent with Daphne's engagement and near-miss wedding to Donny. Daphne and Niles were such lovable characters largely on the basis of their respective eccentricities, many of which traits had to fall by the wayside for the two to form a healthy and compatible relationship. That's all well and good for some, but I'm just not willing to sacrifice endearing craziness in the name of late-season desperate ratings ploys.


Whether you were satisfied with these unions or were left wanting more, the shows sought to give us what they thought we wanted. For better or worse, they gave us an easy answer to once-mysterious "Will they or won't they?" scenario that had so entertained us throughout the series' run. It just goes to show, be careful what you wish for. You just might get canceled.

Sweet Valley High

It's no wonder those of us who grew up in the 80s and 90s possess the capacity to believe anything can happen: reading Sweet Valley High novels inevitably left us with a severe case of overactive imagination. Extensive exposure to a gang of supposedly normal teenagers who battle werewolves, date princes, and are hunted relentlessly by sociopathic identical strangers have worn down our collective sense of normalcy and common sense. Throw in some far-fetched ancestral sagas that incestuously implicate the same families for generations and we've got a full-fledged defense for our willingness to believe the ridiculous.

For teen girls coming of age in the 80s and 90s, Jessica and Elizabeth Wakefield seemed the adolescent prototype to which we could aspire. At the time, I was sure two more perfect people had ever existed. I fancied myself something as a Jessica, favoring clothes and makeup to being a boring stick-in-the-mud, but I was certain both girls were paragons of our generation. Only in retrospect (and with the incredibly detailed and hilarious recounts found in Shannon's Sweet Valley High blog) have I realized that my initial perceptions were a bit skewed.

It all seemed okay back when our good friends in Sweet Valley were our peers in age, but as they remain frozen in time, our more adult retrospective look at them can fairly be more than a bit critical. The more I reflect on my former fictional teen idols, the more I realize how insufferably irritating the two-dimensional twins are. What I once thought of as a characterization polarized between social butterfly and quiet serious one turned out to be a divide of selfish brat and sanctimonious prude. Kind of a bummer, right?



In spite of this late-in-the-game revelation about the twins' less than savory personality traits, Sweet Valley High still holds a special place in my heart. It can't be all bad, of course--these books encouraged young girls to read, didn't they? Sure, they may not have been as entrepreneurial and wholesome as The Babysitters' Club series, but they had an indescribable charm. When you consider the bulk of the series was penned by ghostwriters too ashamed to publicly attach their names to these projects, it could have been a lot worse. I'm not totally sure how, but use your imagination. Like I said, it's a gift from growing up Sweet Valley-obsessed, so use it wisely.

The books were supremely cheesy in a way typical of adolescent-directed fiction, but they also represent a sort of innocence of the era that becomes less believable of teenagers with each passing year. That's not to say teenagers were uniformly squeaky-clean, but the characters seem far more at home forever frozen in their 80s and 90s setting. After all, these days, many of their book-long conflicts could probably be solved with a text message or a quick Google search.

Let's meet our cardboard cast of characters, shall we?

Elizabeth Wakefield


The aforementioned sanctimonious prude, Elizabeth is continually characterized as the "good" one. So good, in fact, that she exudes self-satisfied moral superiority at every turn. Elizabeth is unrelentingly kind and caring, which makes her tireless devotion to her ethically inferior identical twin sister all the more baffling. She wears her hair in a ponytail, which in 80s and 90s teen literature is the only known symbol for being The Serious One. Like her sister, Elizabeth possesses an combination of blonde hair, blue-green eyes, and an enviable size-six figure, a fact upon which every single book in the series insists on dwelling frequently and creepily.


Jessica Wakefield



Like the books say, the twins may be physically identical, but all resemblances end there. Jessica is the opposite of Elizabeth in every way, namely on the caring and kindness front. Jessica is conceited, conniving, and ruthless in her pursuits of all things Jessica. She's well-liked and popular, which makes sense in a high school kind of way. Jessica's major interest seems to be coming up with schemes and dragging Elizabeth into the fiery bottomless pit of her moral vacuum.


Ned, Alice, and Steven Wakefield

See, even Wakefields make mistakes! Jessica totally thinks Steven and Cara should get married and...well, maybe you should just read it for yourself, but I promise, it's ridiculous

Would you expect anything less than a picture-perfect family for our identical young ingenues? Their family was painstakingly perfect from their lawyer father to their interior designer mother, with a handsome California-boy brother thrown in for good measure. Their glossy veneer of flawlessness cracked occasionally, but the books had a pretty good sense of the reset button, always leaving the family intact and cheek-achingly happy.


Todd Wilkins



On-again-off-again romantic interest of Elizabeth, so you know he's got to be just a little bit boring. He's athletic and smart, but he's also a total drama queen. Todd and Elizabeth get into the most ridiculous incessant fights. I thought she was supposed to be the level-headed one, but turns out she's a bit more of a teenage girlcliche than she initially looked to be.

Lila Fowler



Jessica's best friend, Lila is a stuck-up heiress who for some reason was always my favorite. She just tells it like it is, and usually it's kind of mean and revolving around herself. Lila and Jessica are allegedly good friends, but they spend pretty much all of their time trying to undermine the other's social status.


Enid Rollins



Liz's best friend and resident stick-in-the-mud. She's such a sad sack sometimes you've got to wonder how even someone as nice as Elizabeth can deal with her in large doses. Enid just exudes nebishness from every freckled pore, so God help us for those rare instances of having to plow through an Enid-centric storyline.


These books often read like mini soap operas, with equally unbelievable story arcs. When the series was optioned for television, the producers did not disappoint us on the absurd storyline front. We had girls lapsing into comas and getting kidnapped at every turn.



The lyrically challenged theme song implores us to consider, "Could there be two different girls who look the same?" It's a tough question, but all signs appear to point to yes in the case of the Wakefield twins. The TV series ran mainly on FOX syndicates for its first few seasons, after which it was booted to UPN and was subsequently canceled due to plummeting ratings. Like the books, the show was something of a guilty pleasure and could only sustain our interest for so long. As the books' major audience began to age out of the teen fiction market, the days of both the show and the book series were numbered.

Don't worry, today's young girls won't be deprived of their once-requisite Wakefield exposure. The books were recently issued a re-release, featuring updated cultural references and wardrobe choices. Incidentally, the writers also demoted J and E from their once-perfect size 6 to the now-perfect size 4. How positively enlightened. If that's not enough to tide you over, there are reputable rumors of a Diablo Cody-headed SVH film project.Hopefully we can carry on with our normal lives in the midst of the brewing suspense over casting decisions.



Don't forget to check out Shannon's Sweet Valley Blog for your daily dose of SVH! This is a totally unpaid, unsolicited endorsement offered only out of my extreme reverence for Shannon's awesome and diligent recapping. She deserves major kudos for getting through all of these books again--I'm not sure I could do it, though I have lost countless afternoons at the office to reading these recaps. Amazing.