YEAR 2005—so begins this year’s cinematic reimagining of the ’80s TV series “21 Jump Street” that launched the career of Johnny Depp. We open on metal-mouth-clad Jonah Hill donning a pair of those ridiculously, impractically baggy jeans from the turn of the (21st) century that have been all but forgotten in favor of their hipster antithesis, skinny jeans.
His hair is bleached and cropped short in homage to Eminem and the outfit is made complete with a metal-ball necklace and a plain white T-shirt. This timid high school incarnation of Hill is subjected to a now-clichéd scene of verbal torment from a letterman’s-jacket-sporting jock (played by Channing Tatum, who demonstrates unexpected comedic chops) and labeled “not-so-Slim Shady.”
This vignette instantly ushered in remembrance of an earlier time in my life, a mixture of both what high school was actually like back then as well as the contemporary clichés Hollywood relied upon. I realized that this was perhaps the first blatant attempt I had seen on film to appeal nostalgically to millennial high school memories—and it was fiendishly successful.
While the original property aired before most of Madison’s current student population had even set their eyes on a television screen, this lack of familiarity does little to impede Generation Y-ers’ appreciation for the present-day film. This is because “21 Jump Street” is far more than a simple cash grab plucking at the nostalgic heartstrings of Generation X-ers who grew up watching the show.
I myself have not seen a single episode of the original, and doubtlessly missed plenty of the film’s inside jokes as a result, but was treated to a hilarious and surprisingly thought-provoking meditation on how youth culture has changed since the early aughts, a time that feels much closer than our Internet-facilitated culture’s rapid acceleration of change would suggest.
Upon arriving back in high school to pose undercover as students in an attempt to take down a deadly new drug ring, despite being somewhere around 24 years old, Hill and Tatum quickly realize the rules of cool they were weaned on no longer apply.
Tatum’s 7-miles-to-the-gallon vintage muscle car is scoffed at next to cool dude Dave Franco’s (Yes, James Franco’s younger brother) bio-fueled ride. Harassing someone for his or her sexual orientation is quickly established as taboo. Hell, even liking comic books is hip. Frustrated with his sudden shift to dinosaur status, Tatum calls out what he sees as the source of the problem, screaming to the cafeteria at large, “Fuck you, ‘Glee’!”
So far, we millennials have suffered through innumerable remakes, rehashes and reincarnations of cultural properties from the youths of the Baby Boomers and Generation X—after all, this summer we can expect to see Liam Neeson yell some iteration of “You sunk my battleship!” in Peter Berg’s cinematic take on the classic ’60s board game.
But how long until Hollywood starts seriously digging into our own scrapbook of nostalgic cultural memories in order to stoke the box office flames? How far off are modern cinematic incarnations of “Goosebumps,” “Boy Meets World” and every other fond memory from our adolescence? Nickelodeon has already launched a bid for our hearts by returning classic shows of our childhood like “All That,” “Doug” and “Rugrats” to the airwaves, and Cartoon Network isn’t far behind.
Perhaps it’s the product of our incessant cultural connection through the Internet, allowing us to indulge our every nostalgic whim—be it downloading an old episode of “Rocket Power” or finding that timeworn commercial for Fruit-by-the-Foot—but Generation Y certainly seems to be shaping into a generation particularly fond of indulging in childhood nostalgia. Given modern Hollywood’s fondness for sequels, prequels and remakes, the two seem like a match made in heaven.
I just hope that when my adolescent reminiscences are trotted out on the silver screen once more, it is done with the wit, charm and insight of “21 Jump Street.” A certain level of self-awareness couldn’t hurt either. After all, as Ice Cube yells at Hill and Tatum, ostensibly describing the revived undercover program the two will be working in, “The guys in charge of this stuff have no creativity or imagination. All they do now is recycle shit from the past and expect us all not to notice.”
Thankfully this remake was thoroughly imbued with creativity and imagination. I can only hope the same for the inevitable cavalcade of reboots to come.
Got a favorite childhood show David forgot to mention? Do you love orange soda more than “Kenan & Kel”? Let him know at dcottrell@wisc.edu.
