The Rescue (1988) is Patriotic Wish Fulfillment for Latchkey Kids

Today’s issue of Dust On The VCR is a subscriber request! I had never heard of this film until it was requested by my comrade Michael Nipp, whom I have known for way too long now, as evidenced by my numerous appearances on The Deucecast Movie Show, a podcast that he co-hosts with two other friends of mine. You should at least go back and listen to the episodes that I’ve been featured on, and then I guess you could listen to the rest of the show too. (Do not go quietly into those podcast archives, though; these guys are prolific as hell.) Michael is also a few years older than me—old enough to think “Millennial” is an insult, which means he was born in 1979—so I had a delightful time watching one of the films of his youth and learning more about “his generation.” Anyway. Want to request a film for a future issue? Subscribe to the paid version!

No matter what era grew up in, you’re probably convinced it was “a really interesting time to grow up.” You might also be convinced that the only people who truly understand you are the ones who grew up in the same micro-generation.

Reader, I grew up in a really interesting time. No, really. I had internet access by the end of elementary school. I had a cell phone by the end of middle school.* And Facebook made its way to my college campus halfway through my freshman year. What a time it was to be alive.

But I’ve always been enamored with the Gen X version of American youth. Sure, having been born in 1986, I was still inundated with a steady stream of the music, the films, even some of the fashion of the 80s, but that’s partially because culture moved a bit slower in Alabama back then.** And yes, I walked home from school on occasion and spent plenty of time riding my bike around our suburb with my friends, but I was never truly a “latchkey kid” the way that Gen Xers were.

I was never like the kids from The Rescue, you might say.

The Rescue is a paradox of sorts in the canon of coming-of-age 80s films. Yes, it’s a movie about five latchkey kids who are largely left to their own devices by their parents.*** But they aren’t growing up in the American suburbs—they’re growing up on a U.S military base in South Korea at the tail end of the Cold War. (What an interesting time to grow up, right?)

These 80s babies are an embodiment of the dichotomy of the latchkey kid: When you’re able to go anywhere, you might start to feel like you don’t belong anywhere. And despite the fact that this military base is under a strict curfew—perhaps because of it—these children feel searing disappointment whenever their fathers go away on their military missions. (Even if they express that disappointment in very different ways.)

But in this case, the military mission results in their capture by the North Korean forces. And wouldn’t you know it, the U.S. government isn’t willing to take the risk and break them out. Thus begins the titular rescue by the aforementioned children.

Sure, the plot here is a bit silly. Not only is it far-fetched every step of the way, it’s more than a little bit irresponsible to glamorize sneaking into a country under authoritarian dictatorship in an attempt to free military prisoners.**** Especially when their mission results in multiple deaths (and that’s just the ones we see on screen).

But if you dig slightly below the surface—of a film that exists almost entirely on the surface, so maybe I’m the silly one now—there’s a note that would’ve resonated with its audience at the time. These kids aren’t just trying to save their parents. They’re trying to save their relationships with their parents. They’re trying to prove their worth to families that have never prioritized their thoughts and feelings. They’re trying to belong.

The Rescue doesn’t have the emotional resonance of The Goonies or the memorable characters of The Breakfast Club, but if you stare at it long enough, the same generational themes will emerge. Just like any other wave of disaffected youths, whenever they were given a reason to care, latchkey kids showed that they cared deeply. Gen X has always been associated with apathy, and I think that’s pretty unfair. Kurt Cobain never intended “Oh well, whatever, never mind” to be an anthem, and even if aging 80s babies didn’t interpret this attitude as a coping mechanism at the time, it was there for them to unpack when they were ready.

The stars of The Rescue are a product of their time. They’re proof that latchkey kids weren’t just a product of their suburban environment. And they reminded me that even if I was born only a handful of years too late to be one of them, I wasn’t so different after all.

*Mostly so my father wouldn’t have to go to all of the concerts I wanted to go to. A cell phone was his ticket to dropping me off and circling back a few hours later until I was old enough to drive or ride with friends. That’s what we call innovation.

**One time, when I was on a family trip to Florida, I stumbled upon a postcard at a gift shop with an airplane on the cover. Inside, the card said: “Welcome to Alabama. Please set your watches back six years.” I was slightly offended but also it made me laugh and now I think about it often.

***I’m calling them “kids” here but it is kinda unclear how old Kevin Dillon’s character is supposed to be. When the viewer first meets him, he hops off his motorcycle, walks inside, and tosses back a cold one right in front of his father. He could be anywhere from 15 to 23 for all I know.

****This film is rated PG, so yeah, maybe “sometimes you have to disobey your parents to save them” isn’t a great lesson to teach, especially when it’s being taught in regards to North Korea.

The Rescue is now streaming on Hoopla, and it’s available to rent elsewhere.