In the driver seat of film podcasts, Fear and Loathing in Cinema sets itself apart with its irreverent blend of pop culture critique, nostalgic deep-dives, and a razor-sharp, at times almost uncomfortably candid, dissection of cinematic relics that were once scorned but now, with the benefit of time, seem worthy of a second look. Hosted by a group of unpredictable yet undeniably insightful voices; Bryan Kluger, a media director with a sharp sense of irony of offensive things; Dan Moran, a lawyer who brings an often absurd legal perspective of the film industry and Kevin Costner; Preston Barta, a film critic with a taste for the heart-warmingly obscure branch of cinema; and Chelsea Nicole, a culture critic who digs into the nuances of social dynamics and horror; Fear and Loathing in Cinema Podcast thrives in that rare space between sincere analysis and gut-busting humor.
In the latest installment of Fear and Loathing in Cinema (Episode No. 116), our intrepid trio of cinephile raconteurs; Bryan, Dan, and Preston slip behind the wheel and peel out onto the sun-bleached asphalt of 1980s teen cinema, zeroing in on License to Drive, the 1988 cult classic that doubled as a monument to peak Corey: Haim and Feldman, forever immortalized in adolescent rebellion and hair gel. The episode poses a deceptively simple question: does the humor of License to Drive still, well, drive? The answer, like most good podcast discussions, is a scenic route; equal parts analysis, affection, and amusing takes. The hosts delve into the film’s comic mechanics, wondering if its gags, punchlines, and premise hold traction with a modern audience. What they find is more than mere nostalgia; it’s a time capsule of hormonal energy and narrative simplicity, one that still feels unexpectedly alive. Of particular note are the side characters; especially Les’s beleaguered but oddly endearing parents, who serve as grounding forces in a story otherwise fueled by adolescent chaos. The hosts lament the disappearance of such grounded, eccentric adults in today’s cinema, where parental figures are often conspicuously absent or cartoonishly ineffective.
This Week’s Highlights:
As always, the hosts of this podcast stray far from the beaten path, sidetracking in ways that somehow feel more entertaining than the very movie they’ve gathered to dissect. The absurdities that unfold become a crucial part of the show’s charm, its conversational energy the perfect counterpart to the movie under scrutiny. Among the many bizarre diversions in this week’s discussion:
- Nikki Katt Tribute
- Cate Blanchett is retiring from acting, allegedly.
- Is the Eddington Trailer any good from Ari Aster?
And, of course, the gang winds up pondering the most ridiculous hypothetical of all: What One Movie Character Would You Want To Go On A Road Trip With? If that’s not a moment of podcast gold, I’m not sure what is.
24-Hour Film Festival: Preston Barta
This week, Fear and Loathing in Cinema its new curious segment, one that invites each of the podcast’s hosts to curate their own 24-hour film festival. The premise is simple enough: each month, one crew member will craft a lineup of films they deem worthy of the spotlight, be it obscure, controversial, or utterly absurd, and then talk us through the whys and hows of their selections. The question hanging in the air, of course, is whether the choices reveal something profound about the curator or just an exercise in self-indulgence. And, more importantly: would you, would anyone, really, actually want to attend this cinematic marathon?
This month, the 24-Hour Film Festival hands the curatorial reins to Preston Barta, the podcast’s most endearingly sentimental host; known for his soft spot for coming-of-age tales and the quiet poetry of familial bonds. In a marked departure from last month’s cinematic chaos orchestrated by the exuberantly eclectic Bryan Kluger, Barta’s 24-hour movie festival offers a more contemplative, emotionally resonant journey. Expect a thoughtfully curated mix of heartwarming narratives, intimate live conversations with filmmakers, kinetic stunt showcases, and the occasional tear-jerker that sneaks up on you like a well-placed third act reveal. It’s less an adrenaline rush, and more a soul massage. Listeners are invited to tune in, settle down, and let Preston steer them gently through a day-long cinematic experience designed to move, inspire, and maybe, just maybe, heal your cinematic mind.
Movie Analysis: License To Drive (1988)
For the uninitiated: License to Drive follows sixteen-year-old Les Anderson (Haim), whose DMV dreams are dashed when he flunks his test. Undeterred, and determined to impress the ethereal Mercedes Lane (a pre-Boogie Nights Heather Graham); he “borrows” his grandfather’s Cadillac, dragging his two best friends into a chaotic, neon-lit night of misadventures and minor destruction. The film is unabashedly ludicrous, but therein lies its charm.
What becomes clear through the discussion is that License to Drive isn’t just a film, it’s a feeling. It captures a specific flavor of teen recklessness that’s more sincere than cynical, more chaotic than cruel. The dialogue, the fashion, the absurd plot turns, they somehow manage to feel both deeply dated and unexpectedly timeless. It’s a reminder of a less self-conscious era of filmmaking, when all a movie needed was a car, a crush, and a dream.
And, of course, the Coreys; those avatars of ‘80s youth, with their floppy hair, elastic expressions, and earnest cool, remain a delight. To revisit them is to momentarily step back into a world where getting your driver’s license wasn’t just a rite of passage; it was the key to the universe.
But did all three hosts agree on the film’s enduring magic? As always with Fear and Loathing in Cinema, consensus is a slippery thing, as elusive as a Cadillac in motion. You’ll have to listen to find out if this nostalgic ride ends in high gear, or stalls out at the light.
FEAR AND LOATHING PODCAST APPLE PODCASTS
FEAR AND LOATHING PODCAST SPOTIFY
Thank you for listening.
WRITTEN BY: BRYAN KLUGER
Podcast: Play in new window | Download
Subscribe: RSS
