I Love the '90s, But Not in a VHI Kind of Way

So yesterday I decided to rent "The Graduate" in remembrance of Anne Bancroft. While I stood at the counter, I noticed a shiny, special edition copy of "Matilda" on DVD. "You know what?" I exclaimed, startling the clerk. "I don't get it. I just don't get how they can have a special edition of this movie, when it's just about time for the 10th anniversary edition of 'Clueless.' I mean, it's--it's just time for it! Don't you think it's time?" He smiled and nodded, and I realized I should try prep strangers for these outbursts.

But it is time. "Clueless" premiered in July 1995; it grossed over $70 million worldwide. Based very loosely on Austen's Emma, the film featured no explosions or aliens or cigar-chomping badasses with axes to grind. At the center of the drama is a high school girl. Her and her friends' use of language not only propelled the plot but also shaped the language of the 14-year-old girls watching it. Admit it; "what-ever" took on new meaning after the premiere of "Clueless."

And I want my special DVD. I want interviews with Alicia Silverstone, Stacey Dash (who has not aged after a decade), and Brittany Murphy. I want commentary from director and writer Amy Heckerling and Breckin Meyer, who played the kid who made the tardy award acceptance speech. I want music videos from Jill Sobule, Supergrass, and the Mighty Mighty Bosstones. I want Easter eggs.

I've never felt this way about a movie before. I welcomed the very, very special edition of "Gone with the Wind," and I'm still reveling in the wealth of features on those four lovely discs. I take it for granted that an epic film sparkling with legendary stars from the golden age of Hollywood will receive that kind of DVD treatment. "Clueless" is not an epic. In fact, it inspired a deluge of awful teen movies and, most unfortunate of all, the television series "Clueless." Nonetheless, the movie is emblematic of an interesting moment in American pop culture. I think 1995 was a good time to be a girl.

I was almost 14 years old when "Clueless" hit theaters. I spent that summer cultivating a stringent feminist sensibility; I liked to "boycott." I refused to watch music videos with scantily clad female dancers. I blasted "Pocahontas" for sexualizing its Native American heroine, and I made it a point to slam my bedroom door whenever my sister put that movie on. I owned an Alanis Morissette CD, and I liked listening to Joan Osborne, Monica, Brandy, Sheryl Crow, and TLC. For every music video I "boycotted," there were at least two more featuring talented, provocative female artists.

I could argue the short-skirted leads in "Clueless" adhered to the unrealistic standards of beauty that drive some girls to depreciate their bodies. But I won't. The movie is both representative of and critical of popular culture. (Cher's argument for going to gym class, for example, includes a trite and exhaustive list of the junk food she's consumed. After three M&Ms, she claims to feel like a "heifer.") "Clueless" pokes fun at a shallow world that values material wealth. And it's awfully clever about it. It didn't hurt Amy Heckerling to take cues from Jane Austen, the master of witty social commentary.

So where's my special edition DVD? Ten years after "Clueless" there still aren't as many female directors calling shots in Hollywood, and I'm "boycotting" more than ever. Gross-out teen movies with boy-buddies on inane road trips get on my nerves, and yet. And, yes, "The Sisterhood of the Traveling Pants" showcases the talents of four young actresses, one of whom is not shaped like a popsicle stick, but it does not contain anything as sharp as Alicia Silverstone's impatient monologue about boys and fashion. So, if no one wants to make another "Clueless," then at least she can treat all of us--especially me--to a DVD loaded with three days' worth of goodies.

Don't make me beg. Or frighten more video rental store clerks.