is this what passed for guidance back in the day?

I happen to love this graphic illustrating the various ratings assigned to movies by the Motion Picture Association of America. I love it for its subtle humor, even when I question the biases present in it. Look closely at PG- the daughter and son are apparently held to different standards... while I thought them to be similar in age, perhaps he's just short for his age. And look, he only has to have one eye closed for even a PG-13 flick, too. How can you not laugh at the fact that the mom and dad even got dressed up for the R rated movie- night out on the town, huh? Too bad that when they head for an NC-17 film, they have to share the theater with the shady-- and creepily enthusiastic, if you ask me-- older teen. Ick. Oh wait, I'm pretty sure that NC-17 dude is the same guy that was uber-excited to go see a PG-13 on his own a few years back. He must be a real movie buff, huh?

Anyway.



Last week, I spent some time during a weekday to watch a movie, all by myself. I guiltily watched about a half hour during the morning while folding laundry, effectively banishing the children to play upstairs for that block of time. I finished it up during naptime, once again free from the prying eyes of the young, impressionable ones. Because after all, this was the 1985 movie Fletch, starring Chevy Chase in all his hilarious adorableness. (I don't care if that's not a real word, Chevy Chase certainly had it... I was reminded of my childhood crush on him while watching!) Clearly this was not a movie for kids, considering the plot (investigative reporter trying to crack drug dealing business on city's beaches uncovers an illicit police connection), action (beatings at the hands of police, violent car chases, shootings), and language (just a selection of the vocab words introduced: dick, balls (not the playground kind), bitch, Jesus H. Christ, asshole, herpes and the more vernacular "the herp"). Now mind you, while watching the movie, I resembled the smiling mom in the R-rating section in the above illustration, laughing my head off at what I considered a humorous and smart comedy for adults.

Except that it was rated PG.

When that flashed on the screen as I started the DVR'd movie on my tv, I briefly wondered if I had recorded a censored-down version. Nope, this was the full theatrical release, played on a premium movie channel. In addition, I remember seeing this movie when I was a kid. Where, I'm not sure... surely not a movie theater, but maybe at the drive-in? Was this a second movie, during which I was expected to be asleep in the sprawling backseat of our fine, American-made sedan? Was it on VHS? Was I supposed to be seeing it, or did I hide behind a piece of furniture when my parents thought I was playing in a different room? (Not that I ever did that, of course. Ahem.)

My memory fails me, but with a 1985 release date, I was only ten when it came out, and if I did see it then, what in the world did my ten year old brain think of it? Even more, what does it say about our society at the time that this type of content was determined to be worthy of only slight "guidance" and only possibly unsuitable for children? Was there anyone out there who thought this was just fine for children's entertainment consumption?

Now, if you know me, you certainly understand that I'm no prude. I have a colorful vocabulary, but also a (usually fully-functional) switch in my brain that regulates usage in the appropriate venues and around favorable company. Unfortunately, it hasn't been unknown for one of my children to utter "Dammit!" when frustrated, but that's about as bad as it gets. But really, even by my standards, looking at this movie and considering it in the PG light was crazy to me.

I looked briefly at the history of the MPAA ratings system, albeit the history according to Wikipedia. Ironically enough, the PG-13 rating was adopted in 1984, so this film even had the option of being rated PG-13, but apparently folks looked at it and thought, "Nah, PG'll do."

Weird, isn't it?

All of that is to say that regardless of what you think of what's being produced and marketed these days, at least it appears that we've made a tiny bit of progress in evaluating what has been made. Seeing as Diary of a Wimpy Kid shares the same PG rating, "for some rude humor and language," I'm going to go out on a limb and say that even Hollywood has tightened its standards in the last 25 years.

Lest you be left to conclude that I didn't like Fletch, let me reassure you that I, as a full-fledged adult, was enamored with Chevy Chase and his jauntily unbuttoned shirt, fabulous head of hair, and absolutely seamless delivery of hilarious lines. His fake Spanish responses to every Spanish-speaking character in the movie left me in hysterics, and his chemistry with just about anyone on screen was simply perfect. I'm already trying to figure out how to make a Chevy Chase film fest happen at home this summer, and you're all welcome to join me, as long as you bring some snacks and your ID.

I'll make sure the children stay guided away from the room.


Always up for a comedy,