As the summer movie season of 2022 winds down with barely a whimper, I say it’s a good time to revisit a summer that was far livelier.
Many folks claim the cinematic offerings of May through August 1982 represented the greatest summer 
movie season ever, and they may well be correct. I was in single digits back then but vividly remember the season, seeing so many movies it’s a wonder I had time to do anything else (while many of the summer of ‘82 movies I didn’t catch in theaters have gone on to become enduring classics).
I think 1982’s summer slate can be used as the definition of “Summer Movie.” Slick escapism—the noisier and more aggressive the better, and preferably with a science fiction angle—is what these movies offered by and large, along with authentic intellectual heft (something you definitely don’t see these days).
The summer got its true start with the May 14 release of John Milius’ widely revered (though not by me) CONAN THE BARBARIAN. I didn’t catch this opus until it turned up on cable TV a year later, and wasn’t too enamored. It’s always seemed a mite lackluster to me, with its true spark found in Oliver Stone’s wild and phantasmagoric first draft script, which was heavily rewritten by Milius.
ANNIE, a major embarrassment for its miscast director John Huston, followed on May 21. Yes, I saw it, and no, there’s no point discussing this clunker any further. Far preferable is a more adult-oriented movie that appeared the same week: DEAD MEN DON’T WEAR PLAID. Those who call it a classic are way off, but this Carl Reiner directed Steve Martin vehicle, which spoofed the film noirs of the 1940s by having Martin interact with footage from those films, is an impressive accomplishment. It’s not very funny, alas.
Who can forget ROCKY III, which graced our presence on May 28? It’s not my favorite ROCKY sequel (that would be ROCKY IV, in which Rocky travels to Russia and single-handedly ends the Cold War), but any movie that has Rocky take on Hulk Hogan and Mr. T is, if not a must see than at least worthy of
attention. And we simply cannot forget the irresistible “Eye of the Tiger” by Survivor, which registers as my second-favorite ROCKY theme song (my first being the John Cafferty “Hearts on Fire” from—you guessed it—ROCKY IV).
Onto June 4, which marked the releases of two iconic popcorn epics. The first of them, STAR TREK II: THE WRATH OF KHAN, was a revelation after the ponderous STAR TREK: THE MOTION PICTURE. I’ve since come to prefer STAR TREK IV, but WRATH OF KHAN is pretty damn good, with action, explosions, insectoid critters that burrow into peoples’ ears and the shocking death of a pivotal pointy-eared character—who of course lived on. Sadly, the same can’t be said for the actor who played him.
Tobe Hooper‘s POLTERGEIST, June 4’s other big release, isn’t my favorite movie, although back in ‘82 it very nearly was. It was then that I, a budding horror buff who was too young to see any of the era’s slasher fare, eagerly turned up to view this PG-rated Steven Spielberg-stewarded scare fest a whopping five times (the only reason I didn’t make it to six was because on that final occasion it was playing on a double bill with an R-rated movie, resulting in my buddies and I being turned away at the box office).
Box-office wise June 11 was a pivotal day, as it brought another Spielberg blockbuster, E.T.: THE EXTRA-TERRESTRIAL. It was the year’s biggest hit, and went on to become the top grossing movie of all time. Its 20th anniversary rerelease, interestingly enough, brought in very little money, a fact that was blamed on declining attention spans—yet upon seeing it back in ‘82 I reacted much the same way kids in ‘02 did, greatly missing the action and special effects I’d come to expect from science fiction movies. It wasn’t until my grown-up years that I learned to appreciate E.T.’s artful simplicity, although I still insist its story is wonky. Why would E.T., the ultimate bad houseguest (as soon as he arrives, he wants to leave), need to 
“phone home” to inform his chums he got left behind? If they didn’t notice his absence when they initially took off, he clearly wasn’t very important, and so they probably wouldn’t bother coming back for him.
June 4 also marked the bow of GREASE 2, which was not a big (or even small) hit. It’s a film I saw before its predecessor, and which (in an admission that will likely get me booted from any number of film nerd circles) I actually prefer. Sure, GREASE 2 is dopey, misconceived, morally questionable and afflicted with some seriously crappy tunes, but all those things were true of the first GREASE—and it didn’t have a young Michelle Pfeiffer in its cast, which GREASE 2, to its everlasting credit, does.
Then there was FIREFOX, which turned up on June 18. I’ll always remember rushing out to see this one, inspired by the TV spots showcasing the film’s John Dykstra created special effects. What I didn’t realize was that I was going to see one of director/star Clint Eastwood’s infrequent attempts at broadening his image (as occurred in THE BEGUILED, PLAY MISTY FOR ME and WHITE HUNTER, BLACK HEART), offering adult-oriented espionage a la John Le Carre in place of the expected action and bloodshed. These days I can appreciate the attempt (though not the result), but as a kid I was bored shitless—as the friend I saw it with blurted out midway through, “How long is this shit gonna last? Two hours??” In fact, FIREFOX lasts a numbing 136 minutes.
June 25 was evidently a cursed date. It brought a couple of great films (and a lousy one), but no moneymakers. Included was BLADE RUNNER, a box office flop whose public reaction over the years has mirrored my own. Despite its R rating I went to see the film in ‘82, and, the entrancing visuals aside, didn’t care for
it. It stayed with me, though, to the point that in 1991, when the first of BLADE RUNNER’s many director’s cuts played in LA, I made sure to turn out—along with seemingly everyone else.
June 25’s other major flop was John Carpenter’s THE THING. It’s another one I missed in ‘82, although I’ve become quite familiar with it in the years since via revival screenings and DVD viewings. I recognized its qualities, I’m proud to say, far in advance of everybody else, who for many years proclaimed THE THING an uninspired slime-fest but have since recognized it as an enduring classic. Forgive the cliché, but I told you so.
June 25 also gave us MEGAFORCE, the biggest bomb of the summer (if not the entire year), and no wonder: it was an altogether ludicrous attempt at melding STARSHIP TROOPERS with HELLS ANGELS ON WHEELS. Many 1982 failures have gone on to become cult classics (such as the abovementioned BLADE RUNNER and THE THING, and also THE DARK CRYSTAL), but no such reevaluation has been lavished on MEGAFORCE, which only grows increasingly imbecilic.
July 2 brought THE SECRET OF NIMH. Of this cartoon from Don Bluth (his 
directorial debut) I remember very little outside its subject matter–rats becoming intelligent after being given an experimental serum—and the fact that I saw it with my cousin, whose (now deceased) father was a scientist who performed experiments much like those depicted in the flick.
TRON came out on July 9. As with BLADE RUNNER, I was (and am) mighty impressed with TRON’s visual palette, an unprecedented mixture of live action and computer animation that provided a credible approximation of a video game universe. Of course my young self didn’t understand a word of the story, and now, in my older years, I’ve concluded there was very little to understand.
Fast forward to July 23, when we got ZAPPED! I didn’t catch this goof in theaters but viewed it several times when it turned up on cable TV, proving my critical threshold back then was quite low.
August 13 provided a two-fer, starting with, appropriately, FRIDAY THE 13TH PART III. This one was released as FRIDAY THE 13TH 3-D and exhibited in that format. Unfortunately I’ve only seen it on the small screen, where the knife thrusts
and popping eyeballs were rendered in plain old 2-D. Blah!
FAST TIMES AT RIDGMONT HIGH also premiered on the 13th. It was something of a legend in my hometown due to a longstanding rumor claiming the real-life high school that inspired the film, attended by novelist/screenwriter Cameron Crowe, was Redondo Beach’s Redondo Union High School (located not far from where I grew up). In fact, the high school Crowe attended was in San Diego, and the Ridgemont High depicted onscreen located in the San Fernando Valley. For the record, I didn’t see this opus when it was first released, but vividly recall the overpowering media campaign mounted by that longtime So Cal institution Vans, centered on the “That was my skull!” scene in which a stoned Jeff Spicoli (Sen Penn) gleefully smacks a Vans shoe against his head.
Finishing things off, we come to August 20, when Don Coscarelli’s THE BEASTMASTER bowed. It’s a goofy sword and sorcery fantasy that appeals greatly to kids, as was proven by the fact that I loved the hell out of it back in the day. In later years it became known as an HBO staple (leading to the oft-repeated Billy Crystal joke about how HBO actually stands for “Hey, BEASTMASTER’s 
On”), but I’m one of the few who caught it on the big screen, where it played much better.
CLASS OF 1984, which also appeared on August 20, is an irresistible sleaze-fest whose existence I was completely ignorant of in ‘82. It is, however, the finest teacher-vigilante picture ever, outdoing THE BLACKBOARD JUNGLE, the film that inspired it, as well as the many flicks that ripped it off, such as THE PRINCIPAL and THE SUBSTITUTE.
Other noteworthy movies that played during the summer of ‘82 included DINER, THE WORLD ACCORDING TO GARP, NIGHT SHIFT, AN OFFICER AND A GENTLEMAN and QUERELLE, none of which I’d classify as typical summer movie fare, and none of which I went to see. Of those movies I did see, I think it’s safe to say they made for a watershed season, as any time period that encompasses BLADE RUNNER, STAR TREK II, E.T., THE THING, FAST TIMES AT RIDGMONT HIGH and CLASS OF 1984 unquestionably is.