Okay, so the year is young. But so are the actors in this fine, fine flick (nice segue, huh?). I admit, my reasons for going to see "The Faculty" were not elevated. It was the night after New Year's Eve, I had just found out my morning flight from Philadelphia to Chicago had been canceled (remember the blizzard of 99?). I had no energy to stay out late, no excuse to turn in early. It had to be a movie. Once C. and I got over our shyness and both admitted that the trailers to "The Faculty" had gotten under our skin (once you see the movie, you'll realize how apt a metaphor that is), it was time to go.

What to tell you first? Okay, this: you will, halfway through the film, have already forgiven Richard- or- Robert- or- whatever- R- name- it- is Rodriguez for "Desperado", and have gone back to your love of him based on the $7,000-budget "El Mariachi," which predeeded the Antonio Banderas bullet-and-bore fest. (By the way, did you know that, because "desperado" is not actually a Spanish word, the title of that movie was changed in at least one South American country that I know of to "El Pistolero"-- which translates, I think, as "The Gunslinger".)

Next: one of the things that makes "The Faculty" so great is that drugs actually come to the rescue of our young heroes/ines. I love how the script embraces the morality-tale aspect of the scary film genre, while subverting it at the same time. Yay, team!

Okay, and then there's "The Breakfast Club." C. and I entertained ourselves on our walk home by matching each of the characters in the movie to his/her corresponding Club-ber. The cute drug manufacturing guy is Judd Nelson (sorry, cute drug- making guy), the heavy- eye- liner chick is Ally Sheedy (whos big into poetry readings now, I hear), the football player- with- a- heart- of- gold is Emilio Estevez, the stuck-up cheerleader is Molly Ringwald, and the geek is, well, that geeky John Hughes regular whose name I can't think of (how appropriate) except that I think he had three names, one of which was . . . oh, wait, now I remember-- Anthony Michael Hall. But don't hold me to that. And don't tell anyone I actually knew it.

And, yes, it's gory. Sometimes it's scary, and sometimes it's got that "Evil Dead 2" thang that turns the scream in your throat to a laugh on your lips (a head and body trying to find one another and their (its?) intended victim at the same time).