'The Neverending Story' and other films that are shite on rewatching

BELOVED films from your childhood were never amazing cinematic classic, you were just eight. Upon rewatching, these ones are terrible.

The Neverending Story (1984)

As a kid you identified with Bastian Bux as he soared across Fantasia on luckdragon Falkor to fight the Nothing because you too were a bookworm who was beaten up by bullies on a daily basis. As an adult you’re not even moved when Artax dies because leading a horse through a swamp is clearly a dumb idea.

Beetlejuice (1988)

Fondly remembered by many for its impressive visual effects and a career-defining performance by Michael Keaton. The memory cheats though. When you try and show this ‘classic’ to a partner who’s never seen it before they will find the freelance bio-exorcist f**king annoying and problematic, then spend the rest of the runtime questioning other judgements you’ve made.

The Breakfast Club (1985)

A film about angst-ridden teenage misfits is bound to appeal to you when you’re an angst-ridden teenage misfit. But does it deserve such a high place in the canon of your nostalgia? No. Upon rewatch you’ll realise the characters represent the broad spectrum of life’s knobheads, so no wonder it spoke to you on a deep level. It’s time to grow up and ditch the adolescent woes like Allison.

The Dark Crystal (1982)

You loved this epic fantasy film about the Gelflings overthrowing the Skeksis when you were little, so much so that you’ve never dared to risk watching it again as an adult because you suspect it isn’t actually that good. It must be amazing though, surely, because Netflix pumped millions of dollars into making a prequel series nobody talks about.

Big (1988)

You loved the premise of Big but sadly it doesn’t stand the test of time. Sure, it’s got the piano scene, but that only goes on for two minutes. The rest of the movie is a cautionary tale about the crushing misery of adult life in which love interest Susan comes to terms with the realisation that she fooled around with a child. Like her resulting emotional trauma, squash down your memories of this film until they disappear.

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Stand up

After someone laughed at one of his jokes, your son has decided to pursue a ‘career’ in comedy and now spends his weekends on stage in the back room of a pub awkwardly telling an embarrassed audience about the time you walked in on him masturbating. What’s worse is that at the end of the year he will ask you for £5,000 to take his show to Edinburgh.


Well done, you’ve raised an egomaniac who believes she should go into politics. Unfortunately, she’s in the debating club at an ex-polytechnic in Reading rather than a fancy Oxford college, so she has zero chance of becoming the next prime minister. Which is a shame, as she’d be infinitely better than Liz Truss.

Instant noodles

Throughout his childhood, you ensured your special boy only consumed organic food from Waitrose so he’s wholly unprepared for the ravages a student diet will have on his body. A ketamine habit would probably be less damaging than three packets of hot ‘n’ spicy instant noodles every day.

Drama society

Having sat through years of terrible school plays, you thought you were safe when your daughter decided to study law. Unfortunately, she discovered the drama society and now you’re going to be forced to see a modern reimagining of The Crucible set in a Spar shop. Hopefully the 1-star review the production gets in the local paper will end this fad.

Being a DJ

As if your child’s decision to do a degree in media studies wasn’t disappointing enough, it turns out they spunked the majority of their student loan on a set of second-hand turntables. You can only hope they soon realise that their dubstep remix of the Emmerdale theme tune isn’t a ground-breaking artistic triumph and is, in fact, massively shit.

Quidditch team

Rather than getting into any of the proper sports like rugby or rowing, your son is running about on a mop pretending to be a wizard. At your next dinner party when friends ask how Oliver’s getting on at uni, you’d genuinely be less embarrassed to say he’s selling weed.