Script: Everything I need to know, I learned in Adventures in Babysitting

This was the first movie my family owned, and for a very long time, the only one – hence, I knew it backwards and forwards. Watching it again, I realized three things: it’s still a fun ride, I still know almost every single line, and damn, this is a tight little script. Structurally, this film has everything I’ll ever need to know.

Chris Parker, stood up for a date with her boyfriend, reluctantly agrees to babysit the Anderson kids. When her would-be-runaway friend Brenda calls, stranded at the downtown bus station, Chris packs the kids in her car to go get her. And then gets a flat on the expressway… from spooky tow truck drivers to evil car thieves to an uncanny resemblance to a playboy centerfold, Chris’ night gets increasingly crazy. Will she ever get her mom’s car back? Will Brenda survive the bus station? Can they get home before the Andersons realize the babysitter’s taken the kids for one hell of a joy ride?

Absolutely everything is set up in the first act. All the major plot points, many of the obstacles they will face, a lot of the jokes, are all there in an amazing case of exposition and foreshadowing so well camouflaged we have no idea we’re collecting important info for later. There isn’t a single throwaway line in the first act, or in much of the film.

A great example is Mr. Pruitt. Prior to the flat, Chris is telling the kids a spooky story about a babysitter who has a run-in with a face-scraping, hook-handed psychopath… cue tire blow out right at the punch line, eliciting much screaming. This is funny in itself, but the joke continues with the arrival of Handsome John Pruitt in his tow truck. Hook for hand? Check.

But wait, we’re not done. On their way to the garage, Darryl, the Anderson’s obnoxious neighbor along for the ride, asks where the hand is. Pruitt tells them it’s in the glove compartment. Creepy. Pruitt then gets the call that his wife’s lover is at his house. Pruitt reaches for the glove compartment, Darryl closes his eyes, and we get one of my favorite exchanges in the whole movie:

Darryl: Is it a hand?
Brad: No.
Darryl: (takes hands off eyes) Oh good.
Brad: It’s a gun.
Darryl: (hands back on eyes) Oh god!

Set up the hand, and then, pun intended, wring it for all it’s worth. This sequence doesn’t eat up much time, but gave birth to an iconic character. To this day, whistling Pruitt’s refrain gets a reaction from anyone who’s seen the film.

From this point on, it’s a classic case of “up the stakes, change the plan.” They run from one obstacle to another, but since it’s all been set up in the first act, we buy it, no matter how extreme.

One hiccup I had was the beloved “babysitting blues” interlude. The gang wind up on stage in a blues bar and are forced to sing the blues before they can leave and escape the car thieves on their tail. It seemed this came out of nowhere, but I was willing to excuse it because it’s a fun midpoint, it allows the characters to take stock of where they’ve been, what they’re up against, and how they feel about it. Nice reflective moment and a chance to build the confidence of our heroes up for the rest of the second act. Fair enough.

But then I remembered the opening scene, where Chris gets ready for her big date and lip syncs “And Then He Kissed Me” by the Crystals. Chris is a born performer, all she needs is an audience. Hence, this too has been set up. And the choice of opening song is no accident, either. The lyrics establish exactly how Chris feels about her relationship with her boyfriend and what she hopes to get out of life – which, it turns out, isn’t much, but this night will help her to grow beyond that.

Once again, the musical number proves to be the perfect way to handle exposition (watch me shamelessly plug myself – for more about the value of suddenly breaking in to song, see Buffy the Exposition Slayer).

I could go on about the things I learned from Adventures in Babysitting. It’s basic, but I need to be reminded once in a while:

Keep the story simple, and then build your second act out of sequences that raise the stakes and force your characters to change the plan.

You can get away with anything, as long as it’s been set up.

Sing, don’t say, your exposition.

When it comes to jokes, set up the hand, then wring it for all it’s worth.

And finally, there’s no reason why a family film can’t be enjoyed by the entire family.