
I was a “gawkward” child. But I was also precocious, which made me an easy target. In the ’80 and ’90s, though, if there was a kid like me in the movies, they would always know how to defend themselves…with words. Their zippy comments made them ever-so-endearing, and I ate it up. I studied their moves and quickly learned that if I combined sarcasm with sass and a smirk, I could convey my point, exude confidence, and put any jerkos in their place without being downright mean.
I distinctly remember being around 12 and standing shyly in the corner at a Bar Mitzvah for a kid a I barely knew (you know how it goes when your parents are friends, but you’re not), and realizing I had a choice: I could be a total wallflower or make an epic fool of myself in an attempt to win over the popular crowd.
I decided to approach the cool kids on the dance floor. I took a deep breath and blurted out that their dance moves weren’t as good as mine, then immediately busted into the robot as if I was a part of the band scene from Bill & Ted’s Bogus Journey.
Did they still think I was a nerd? Of course they did. Did I make a few of them laugh? I believe so. One of them even shouted, “San Dimas High School football rules!”
After that day, I made it my mission to embody the energy of those non-cool ’80s and ’90s characters—the Coreys in License to Drive, every single Goonie, Andie from Pretty in Pink, and heck, even Andrea Zuckerman from Beverly Hills, 90210—to pump up my confidence so I could geek out around non-geeks. Their one-liners just delivered.
Sure, everyone crushed on bad boy Bender and sensitive jock Andy in The Breakfast Club, but I was all-in on fellow dork, Brian, played by Brat Packer Anthony Michael Hall. When Bender goes through Brian’s “nutritious” lunch and asks if his mom married Mr. Rogers and Brian deadpans, “No, Mr. Johnson.” I mean, come on… It’s such a charming and innocent retort even Bender seems amused. I loved it, and learned from it.
But even beyond the geeks, classic teen movies were ripe with epic gems of snark. Films like Clueless, Dazed and Confused, and Scream taught me how to be sassy and spunky without being a Daria-like, frigid witch. My goal was to appear witty and clever, even if I didn’t necessarily feel that way. When I channeled these characters, I got the tiny adrenaline rush of confidence I needed. And if I heard just a little chuckle out of someone, it felt like, for that moment, we were connected.
In an interview with the Arizona State University News, Julia Himberg, an associate professor of film and media studies at the college, said the reason why we love repeating dialogue from TV shows, movies, and pop-culture is because it fosters connection—it’s a great way to bond with others. She says the quotes we choose to recite resonate with us, serving as a convenient way to articulate experiences or emotions. Plus, they can often infuse humor into conversations, providing a touch of levity in a challenging situation—like, uh, being a teenager.
While dorky Brian from The Breakfast Club will always have a place in my teenage heart, the first character who truly showed me how to snark needed to be a woman—and the OG Buffy from Buffy the Vampire Slayer, played by Kristy Swanson, did the job.
“Does the word ‘duh’ mean anything to you?” she quipped at Merrick—the man chosen to be her Vampire-stabbing mentor—and instantly, he could no longer think of her as the vapid valley girl he originally chalked her up to be.
I loved her quick wit and ability to mock him without being a complete shrew. I crafted my own version of Buffy’s question: “Do you know what ‘duh’ means?” BAM! My teenage version of “No way, Sherlock” (a phrase I still use on the reg).
Even Buffy’s ex-bestie (played by Academy Award winner Hilary Swank—whoa!) tossed out some fabulous snark with, “Get out of my facial.” Genius. Teen me transformed that into, “Don’t give me a stress pimple.” Bingo! The perfect comeback when you’re getting the side eye for panting too hard during a light jog in gym class.
I constantly wrote my favorite movie quotes in my diary, brainstorming ways to make them my own. It was very therapeutic, and helped me explore my own tundra of emotions. Armed with these snappy movie-inspired comebacks, I (clumsily) navigated the waters of middle and high school. Well, I tried.
No one specifically called me wise or told me they were impressed with my snark, but the little smiles and extra bits of attention I got from slightly cooler kids gave me the confidence I needed to get through the day. Also, these movies all had happy endings, especially for the characters with the best snarky comments. In my mind, snarking would eventually pay off.
I snarked it up with my true-blue friends, too. Even with them, I wanted to be spunky, never boring. Ugh! As if!
Ahh, Clueless, a true masterpiece of the one-liner. I turned Cher’s, “Searching for a boy in high school is as useless as searching for meaning in a Pauly Shore movie,” into, “I’d rather watch Bio-Dome on repeat.” This was perfect when something was boring—as most things were—and I wanted to be pop-culture creative.
Another quote I Rachel-ized was from A League of Their Own: “Use your head—that lump three feet above your ass.” When I gave a wrong answer in math class, another common middle school occurrence, I would sit up straight, point to my head, and spew, “The lump three feet above my tushy must be broken today.” I had a tendency to cover my social anxiety by exaggerating my “ditziness”—a defense mechanism I still haven’t been able to completely shed.
Knowing I could zing someone, even a teacher, with a clever-one-liner was empowering. Another confidence win for me was turning “Ya think?” from Adventures in Babysitting into one long, “Hmmmm?” Basically, another form of “duh.”
I may not say duh anymore, but I haven’t given up on movie snark. Just the other day, I ran into a mom I know from Girl Scouts at CVS. I was feeling super stressed from a long and emotional week of adulting, wife-ing, and parenting, but I couldn’t let her see me this way. No, no!
So, after saying a quick hello, I added, “Just here grabbing what I need—cough drops, tissues, and my Xanax. Gotta run!” I culled the Xanax reference from Legally Blonde when Elle’s friend Serena encourages her bestie to just “take a percocet” instead of enrolling at Harvard Law School. The semi-shocked look on my fellow Scout mom’s face pleased me, even momentarily.
Admittedly, there is one movie line on my list that I’ve never had the chance to use, from the great Jawbreaker: “I don’t believe we’ve met, what with the cruel politics of high school and all.” It’s now tucked away in my mental arsenal somewhere (with faded memories of my clunky Steve Madden slip-ons), waiting for my eldest daughter to claim it as her own. She’ll need a serious confidence boost when she enters hell, I mean, middle school, soon. And now in my 40s, I aim to pass my movie-snark secrets on to her and her younger sister.
I’ve already shown her how to mimic Amber’s famous W (for “whatever!”) sign from Clueless, as a small start in her pursuit of the power of snark. But I hope to continue to teach her how to find inspiration from the timeless one-liners of my teen movie years. So far, we’ve just watched Clueless and Adventures in Babysitting, but we’ll get to the rest I’m sure.
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by Rachel Sokol
Rachel Sokol is a writer, editor, and mom who grew up in Long Island—the only kid in her high school who was not eager to drive since she planned to attend college in “you don’t need a car there” Boston. She worshiped teen mags, especiallySassy, had the BEST Bonne Bell Lip Smacker collection, loved smutty books by V.C. Andrews, and woke up at 5 a.m. in middle school to watchSwans Crossing. (IYKYK)
