I was five years old when this flick came out and I remember it like it was the peanut butter and jelly sandwhich I ate yesterday (the switch the grape preserve and crunchy peanut butter was wildly fulfilling). What do I remember from this classic. Ahhhhhh, son, I remember the initial flight of the rocket.
I recall Jennifer Connelly looking hot in a Rita Hayworth Shawshank way.
How about John Locke (Terry O'Quinn) as Howard Hughes.
Or Timothy Dalton as an Hollywood star who is really a Nazi, including switching to a crazy german accent out of nowhere in the end.
Another moment that is clearer than my vision when I put on my rex bex when playing basketball is the part when our hero takes the bubblegum of the rocket and gives it to the cunning villian (who promptly blows up son!)
Sometimes I feel for kids these days, a film like this provides a sense of wonder, a sense of magic that now is only delivered with gigantic robots. As a child, the rocket Pack seemed attainable, something I could have maybe even created on my own. But a giant talking car that turned into a highly armed killing machine, I didn't even consider wanting that. I just wanted, wait, no I still want, my rocket pack.
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