Why We Love ‘the Goonies’

The longevity of Richard Donner’s “The Goonies” was undeniable, well ahead of the film’s 30th anniversary this summer.

While a sizable hit at the time, earning $60 million and for better or worse, immediately becoming a core part of the decade’s defining movies, its appeal has far outstripped its initial release.

Some Reagan-era movies maintain their sparkle and, despite the time they were originally in theaters, have a timelessness (like “Back to the Future”). The odd thing about “The Goonies” is how it’s surpassed its decades-ago initial round of being a movie theater, HBO attraction and videocassette staple.

In the late 1990s and into the 21st century, “The Goonies” has garnered a whole appreciation, both from kids at heart who grew up with the film and a new generation that loves it anew.

It’s both a send-up of an ’80s teen movie and a nutty cross-breed of different genres.

Nostalgia may be a big part of the collective zeitgeist, but the intense devotion to “The Goonies” goes way beyond a shared affection for ’80s-era cheese. The film’s fan base isn’t dissimilar to “Back to the Future” (released the same summer and both produced by Steven Spielberg) but, tellingly, the love of all things “Goonies” actually approaches the genuine cult following and generational attachment to “A Christmas Story.”

“The Goonies” can be found playing at midnight screenings nationwide, packed with longtime devotees who know every line by heart. In fact, it’s been a ubiquitous title in art house movie theaters, popping up in Denver for at least a decade.

New “Goonies” apparel and action figures can be found in most “hip” clothing, music and toy stores, and the Internet typically buzzes with annual, oft-rumored sequel news. Unlike an ’80s-era flop that gained momentum years later (like “The Last Starfighter”) or an ’80s-era blockbuster whose fan base has fizzled out (“like “Crocodile Dundee”), “The Goonies” has steadily maintained a broad, ever adoring audience for 30 years.

On the surface, the film’s appeal seems easy to pinpoint. The story of a group of seven kids (Josh Brolin, Sean Astin, Ke Huy Quan, Martha Plimpton, Kerri Green, Jeff Cohen and Corey Feldman) who go searching for pirate treasure in their town of Astoria, Oregon, has obvious nods to classic serials, cliffhangers and traditional adventure stories. Like a pop culture puree of Robert Louis Stevenson, “The Ransom of Red Chief,” and “Scooby-Doo,” “The Goonies” taps into classic story archetypes and tropes. More importantly, it’s still awfully entertaining and very funny, both a send-up of an ’80s teen movie and a nutty cross-breed of different genres.

The real reason we still love “The Goonies” are with the kids themselves, who are early examples of “geek culture,” and atypical in how adorably uncool they are. While they’re a product of their generation (the kids drink Pepsi, wear “Purple Rain” T-shirts, read Mad Magazine, and watch Cyndi Lauper music videos), they’re also devoid of privilege, have a family like dynamic and come across like real, bratty, blue-collar kids.

Coming from working-class families, the Goonies (their nickname, both affectionate and derogatory, from being kids who grew up around “the goon docks”) are identifiably ’80s kids. Unlike “Back to the Future’s” Marty McFly, the kids aren’t materialistic, slick “slackers.”

Astin’s Mickey struggles with asthma and incorrectly uses big words. Feldman’s “Mouth” is introduced helping his plumber dad. Cohen’s appropriately annoying “Chunk” is prone to tall tales and wears his emotions on his sleeve. Plimpton’s odd but engaging teen is first seen dousing herself with water on the dock, while Green’s cheerleader is an emotional rollercoaster who only appears to have Plimpton as a friend.

Even Brolin’s “Brand” is an oddball, devoid of “jock” qualities and more like a goofier take on Patrick Swayze’s big brother-type in “The Outsiders.”

Ke Huy Quan’s “Data and Cohen’s “Chunk” are broad, sometimes cringe-worthy stereotypes. The tone itself dips deeply into Looney Tunes cartoonishness, and the characters prove to be durable, resilient and endearingly family-oriented (what Data’s father tells him in the very end never fails to touch me).

The addition of “Sloth” is an odd touch; while the point is made immediately that he’s much a displaced outsider as the kids are and in need of a real family, the character is creepy.

For a movie aimed at kids, it has an edge. Scenes involving a corpse and a blender are stronger than most will remember. While the profanity is as mild as the teen “necking” on view, this isn’t the lone PG-rated Spielberg produced work to stretch the PG rating to the breaking point (“Jaws,” “Poltergeist,” “Gremlins” and “Indiana Jones and the Temple of Doom” are other but far more graphic examples). The closing scenes are perhaps overly sentimental and tidy, but David Shire’s score and Donner’s staging are exciting.

As silly as this gets … its heart remains true and very big.

As improbable as it is that pirates would take the time to set up elaborate, Rube Goldberg-esque traps, the suspenseful sequence involving an organ, made of bones, is top-notch. The Fratellis, as embodied by Robert Davi, Joe Pantoliano and the wonderful Anne Ramsay, are sublime villains, both amusing buffoons and genuinely threatening. Chris Columbus’ screenplay (based on Spielberg’s story) is rife with elaborate improbabilities (like the least plausible prison break in cinema) and knowing sly touches (such as how, in the face of danger, Brolin and Green remain absurdly amorous teenagers).

The story of we-have-to-save-our-home has a classic Mickey Rooney-Judy Garland drive, but here, it’s even more dire. These kids don’t have any money, can’t “put on a show” to save the day and are facing a smug, wealthy rich teen (and his equally unbearable father), who reminds them daily that their home will soon be a golf course. Progress is a threat to these kids, whose eclectic group dynamic and home lives are about to be torn apart by a deep-pocketed but soulless yuppie. As silly as this gets (around the time “Sloth” reveals he’s wearing a Superman shirt, the corniness runs thick), its heart remains true and very big.

The oft-quoted adage that the Goonies “never say die” extends to the movie itself, which will seemingly will never cease in its popularity and place in pop culture. Everyone, the movie tells us, from Mickey to One-Eyed Willie, is a Goonie, an underestimated outsider who can rise to the top.