Most people know Andrew McCarthy through his movies. While he’s also a talented director and award-winning travel writer, I think most people still recognize him mostly from the movies he was in from the 1980s. Pretty in Pink, St. Elmo’s Fire, Mannequin, Weekend at Bernie’s—these iconic films captured a time in America, and McCarthy brought his signature sensitivity to these characters and made them larger than life.
The cast of St. Elmo’s Fire in particular became the media darling when the behavior of Rob Lowe, Emilio Estevez, and Judd Nelson during an interview won them the nickname The Brat Pack. Other actors of that time were added in to the Pack, and many stories were written about their bad behavior and breakups. Andrew McCarthy was roped in to the Brat Pack, according to those writing all the stories about it. But the truth is, there never really was a Brat Pack, just a group of actors who were friends and appeared in some movies together. And as a loner, even if there had been a Brat Pack, McCarthy wouldn’t have been a part of it.
Brat is, in part, McCarthy’s wanting to set that record straight. But more than that, it’s an introspective look at his personal history, from his early memories of family through acting classes at NYU to his early movie career and his fights with his personal demons. The stories he tells are marked by brutal honesty, deep self-reflection, and the wider perspective that only age and wisdom can bring. Whether he’s talking about his first role onstage as a bit player in his high school’s Hello, Dolly! or his comparing himself to his older (more athletic) brothers, his sneaking in to Broadway shows for the second act or sneaking out of the premiere of Pretty in Pink so he doesn’t have to watch himself on-screen, his love scene in St. Elmo’s Fire with Ally Sheedy where they break the shower (they really did break the set) or how his alcoholism made his loneliness grow exponentially, McCarthy is not one to pull punches, even when it’s to point out his own shortcomings.
Brat tells a little about being inside Hollywood, but it’s far from a tell-all of movie-making or partying with actors in the ‘80s. This is a far more personal book about McCarthy’s experiences as an actor and as a young man coming into his own. His sensitivity comes through, whether he’s talking about of auditioning for his first feature film (Class) or how he was continually told that his introversion was a problem that he had to overcome.
Fans of Andrew McCarthy will want to grab this and devour it, as I did. There are mentions of Class, St. Elmo’s Fire, Pretty in Pink, Mannequin, The Benniker Gang, and Weekend at Bernie’s as well as other acting and directing jobs he’s had, so fans of those movies will also want in. I also recommend this one to young actors, wanting to learn more about the craft and about the steps McCarthy took to find his success. His struggles with alcohol may help others who are trying to stay sober. And I think that there is a lot of understanding and hope in these pages for those of us who are introverted and sensitive.
I have long been a fan of Andrew McCarthy’s movies. Now, having gotten a chance to read this very personal memoir, I am also a fan of Andrew McCarthy, the man. It’s hard not to be when someone is willing to be this open and vulnerable about his personal struggles, his art, his thoughts, and his soul.
Egalleys for Brat: An ‘80s Story were provided by Grand Central Publishing through NetGalley, with many thanks.
