- For nailing the back-combed ’80s aesthetic. This is the film Spielberg might’ve made had he grown up in Ireland where the clergy were our alien life form
- For the nostalgia, particularly drowning out bickering parents with The Next Best Thing on the turntable, pausing momentarily to speculate on the fate of their marriage with similarly nonchalant siblings. But not for that long
- For a few seconds of The Blades’ Down Market
- For championing teenage misfits in all their hormonally simmering, earnest, clumsy world-conquering crusade. Especially Jack Reynor’s jaded 21 year-old teenager who has seen it all
- For making the clear case for why prom night always beats the most extravagant and wild debs. Always.