A few years ago I wrote a couple of entries about the pop/rock bands and albums that had the strongest influence on me in my high school years. As a follow-up, here are ten films that had a deep impact me in the 1980s. Here are the ground rules for this list: The film had to be first released in the 1980s.  I had to have seen the film close to or in the year when it was released; not necessarily, but preferably, to have seen it in an actual theater. Remember that the 1980s was also the era of HBO and videotape. Most of these movies were films I first saw in a cinema, hence greater overall impact on my young and innocent eyes. And the film had to have some kind of lasting impact on me. Some of these films will be obvious to anyone who grew up in America in the 1980s. Others, perhaps not so. So, here goes:

1. The Empire Strikes Back (dir. George Lucas, 1980)

In my opinion, this was a better film than the original Star Wars, although purists may wish to argue this point. The sequel introduced the character of Yoda, who now sits wisely overlooking our living room in our Shanghai home. I once posted a piece on LinkedIn about how Star Wars is a Chinese story. I feel that this film was the beginning of my journey towards China and Asian Studies. There was something about the wisdom and character of Yoda that was remarkably Asian. Then of course, there’s the classic universal journey (ala Joseph Campbell) of the hero who ventures into the dark cave to discover his true identity and his real father. As a boy of ten with a dad and a step-dad, I could relate. As for the next installment of the Star Wars series, I care not to comment.

2. Raiders of the Lost Ark (dir. Stephen Spielberg, 1981)

This film caused quite a splash when it first came out in the theaters. I eventually saw it in the cinema, probably with my father in DC. I recall that my mom and step-dad saw it first and told me I should see it, even though the finale would be scary. Indiana Jones is an iconic figure, a scholar who roams the globe keeping sacred historical items from evil clutches and safe in museums and archives. Those who know me might recognize a bit of Indiana in my own career. And certainly there is no question that the sequel had a profound influence on the choice of my research subject: Nightlife in Shanghai in the 1930s. But the first of the series is the best of the trilogy. Unlike most films, which portray college profs as nerdy, dysfunctional, effete, and absent-minded clods, this is the first film in my memory that shows us as we truly are: brave, bold, and heroic adventurers.

3. Blade Runner (dir. Ridley Scott, 1982)

Sad to say, I did not get to see this film in theaters when it first came out. Maybe I was too young for it at the time. Later in high school, I saw it on videotape at my dad’s house in DC. By that time I was already deep into philosophical questions about the mind and the self, and this sympathetic exploration of synthetic beings had a profound impact on me, and continued to be a touchstone for many years. Eventually I did get to see the original director’s cut in the cinema, and it was stunning, and still is today. As far as I’m concerned, no other sci-fi film has surpassed this one, even if some of the tech appears outdated by true 2019 standards. And between Harrison Ford’s jaded agent Rick Deckard and Rutger Hauer’s Roy Batty, some major archetypes were laid down in this movie. Finally, although it was set in Los Angeles, this film turned me on to East Asia not as a repository of ancient traditions but as a locus of hyper-modernity.

4. Scarface (dir. Brian De Palma, 1983)
I don’t know how I got permission to see this film in the theaters, but somehow I did. I remember going to see it in the Acton cinema with a childhood chum (yes, alas, Acton had a cinema back then, on Great Road). Needless to say, I was profoundly shocked by the levels of violence—the chainsaw scene especially. This was a twisted story about the American dream gone awry, which involved mounds if not mountains of cocaine. And it introduced me to one of my favorite actors of all time, the great Al Pacino. This was one of those memorable “grow up and face reality” films of my teenagehood.

5. Monty Python: The Meaning of Life (dir. Terry Jones, Terry Gilliam, 1983)

And now for something completely different. I had been a fan of the Pythons since early childhood and I’d seen Holy Grail in the Fine Arts Theater in nearby Maynard. The Meaning of Life was a shocking introduction to the more adult side of this comedy troupe from the UK. Between man-eating tigers, live liver dissections, and exploding gourmands, this was a tour-de-force of their grotesque sense of humor, with many bits of wisdom thrown into the mix. But the clincher was the soundtrack. Later, during our freshmen trip in the White Mountains, my Dartmouth classmates and I were struggling to find a song to enter into the big contest at the end of the trips, and I came up with “Every ‘Shmen is Sacred”, a riff on the best song of the bunch. We won the contest hands down.

6. Birdy (dir. Alan Parker, 1984)

This haunting exploration of teenage angst and not fitting in with the norms of mainstream society is on my list for a number of reasons. This was not a mainstream film, and it offered a highly critical perspective on the typical teenage coming-of-age drama. The stirring theme of friendship between the two main characters as they explore human sexuality (“they’re not mammary glands, Birdy, they’re tits!”) and other growing-up matters was familiar to any teenage boy. In that era, the legacy of Vietnam still loomed large, and we were all wounded by that terrible war, psychically if not physically. The other reason for the film’s impact was the music. The soundtrack was by one of my favorite artists of that era, Peter Gabriel. Every time I hear the album that became known as “Security” (1982) and especially the haunting song “Wallflower” I think of this film. 

7. Amadeus (dir. Milos Forman, 1984)

When I saw this film with my mother in a cinema in Boston in the fall of my tenth grade in high school, it whacked me on the head with a heavy mallet, and awakened me to the true beauty of what we call “classical” music. Prior to watching Amadeus, I can’t say I had any great interest in the music of Bach, Mozart, Beethoven and the likes. After seeing this film, I began to take notice of my parents’ classical music album collection. The contrast between the serious, God-fearing Salieri and the seemingly frivolous and louche Mozart sets up a great archetypal contrast that still affects my thinking about the creative arts to this day.  I believe that I started to take my piano lessons much more seriously after this film, and although I didn’t reach any lofty heights of musicianship, this movie certainly led me on a path towards a broader and deeper appreciation of the fine art of music and the lives of those who create it.

8. Platoon (dir. Oliver Stone, 1986)

I remember going with a group of friends in senior year in high school to see this film in our hometown cinema. While Birdy woke us up to the horrors of Vietnam and post-war trauma (later known as PTSD), this film took us deep into the jungles of ‘Nam and into the twisted hearts and minds of those who fought that war. I think we all emerged from that film somewhat traumatized, as it was meant to be. It was a lesson in how war twists and warps the hearts and souls of young, innocent soldiers and turns them into jaded war veterans. Those who try to stay pure, like the character played so memorably by Willem Dafoe (another of my long-time favorites) end up crashing and burning. Seeing how Asian people were mistreated and terrorized by the American juggernaut definitely influenced my decision to study Asian history more deeply and delve into the sources of these modern horrors.

9. Blue Velvet (dir. David Lynch, 1986)

Speaking of horrors, this film brought to light the dark underbelly of suburban American life. I went to see it in the Brattle Street cinema in Harvard Square along with some pals in senior year. Once again this film delivered a big wallop, and we were all stunned by this portrayal of a suburban teenager who becomes caught up in a web of intrigue surrounding a local gangster and his crew. Denis Hopper’s Frank Booth is definitely one of the most memorable and archetypal villains in filmdom. And this was David Lynch at or near his peak of macabre and dreamlike storytelling. The soundtrack was haunting too. Whenever I hear Roy Orbison’s song “In Dreams,” it always conjures up an image of Frank and his favorite beer, Pabst Blue Ribbon.

10. The Last Emperor (dir. Bernardo Bertolucci, 1987)

I saw this cinematic portrayal of Henry Puyi and his life and times in revolutionary China in Hanover New Hampshire, where I was studying Chinese language at Dartmouth College. Needless to say, it had a huge impact on my life. Soon afterwards, I was on my way to Taiwan for my first experience in the Far East. I returned to Hanover after nine months of living and traveling in Taiwan and Mainland China, with a much deeper interest in that part of the world. The rest, as they say, is history.