MOVIE:
The best way to watch St. Elmo's Fire is through the filter of nostalgia. Following the post-Georgetown lives of seven graduates searching for direction, the film is a celebration of Brat Pack yuppie-ism, '80s self-absorption, and materialistic soullessness. Some of its dialog and performances are stickily self-conscious, and the actors often seem to be perfecting their coifs while out of frame. And yet there's something oddly compelling about the movie.

The film's casual takes on unsafe premarital sex, drug abuse, and imbibed partying—which were controversial in 1985—seem a bit quaint today, but I remember being somewhat startled when I first saw it in theaters. In a time when silly T&A flicks described the extent of the teen market, this serious film about troubled young people was an eye-opener. And St. Elmo's Fire remains quite watchable, mainly for its rich cinematography and its Brat Pack stars. Billy (Rob Lowe) and Jules (Demi Moore) are twin souls, lost on the edge of breakdown. Alec (Judd Nelson) and Leslie (Ally Sheedy) are the yuppies, trying to work through the kinks of their post-college relationship. Wendy (Mare Winningham) has self-esteem problems. Kevin (Andrew McCarthy) and Kirby (Emilio Estevez) both pine for seemingly unreachable women—Kevin for Leslie, and Kirby for the elusive Dale Beaverman (Andie MacDowell). It all seems like so much whining after a while (and I honestly enjoyed Kirby's tangential unrequited-love story the most), but when you consider that St. Elmo's Fire was that generation's American Graffiti, this is a film that deserves at least an ounce of respect.

VIDEO:
The DVD preserves Joel Schumacher's original 2.35:1 "scope" aspect ratio. The transfer is right on the money—sharp and nearly distortion-free. I noticed a few specks here and there, but nothing alarming. Only occasional shimmering was present. The film uses a distinct color palette, full of earthy hues, which this transfer brings across faithfully.

AUDIO:
Presented in both Dolby 2.0 Surround and Dolby 4.0 discrete, the latter option gives the most enveloping experience. The soundtrack really comes to life when you switch from 2.0 to 4.0. The sound separation is vivid without being gimmicky.

EXTRAS:
Aside from an 8-minute promotional fluff piece that contains annoyingly long sections from the film, the disc offers an entertaining commentary from director Joel Schumacher. Although Schumacher will never be my favorite director (having birthed the insulting 8mm), here he gives us an appropriately nostalgic look at the filming of possibly his best film. He sometimes lapses into narrating the onscreen action, but mostly he provides humorous anecdotes and production details. He describes the experience of working with each of the principal actors, and admits that one of his very favorite scenes is of Demi Moore having an erotic experience with a jukebox. (It's one of my own favorites.) The highlight for me was his discussion of the Georgetown Jesuits, who refused to let him film St. Elmo's Fire at their school on the grounds that the film depicted premarital sex.

You also get a hilarious music video for John Paar's "Man in Motion." I got a kick out of watching his hair. Rounding out the extras are cast/crew filmographies and nonanamorphic trailers for St. Elmo's Fire, About Last Night, Groundhog Day, and Jerry Maguire.

FINAL THOUGHTS:
In his commentary, Schumacher says that, "Most of my films are about human beings struggling with the human condition." That comment is somewhat puzzling when you glance at his filmography, which contains such dubious human dramas as The Lost Boys, Batman & Robin, and Batman Forever. But for this movie, anyway, I can see that he gave it his best shot.