Passable in Pink - Mike Sacks: Writer

Top ten comedy release of 2019.

New York’s Vulture

Sacks gleefully handles the tropes and problematic tendencies of Hughes’ adolescent operas and takes a particular delight in inventing increasingly bizarre teen lingo that wouldn’t feel out of place in a sci-fi novel. The dreamy synth soundtrack and pristine production immerse listeners in this hysterically over-the-top ode to the holy trinity of ’80s teendom: fashion, hormones, and prom.

The Onion’s AV Club

Passable In Pink is irreverent, so don’t expect it to be cute and rosy like the films it targets. Imagine if Doug Kenny (National Lampoon) had made Ferris Buellers Day Off or The Breakfast Club. Those listeners expecting a loyal tribute to those films will probably be disappointed. This is a satire. And it’s razor sharp. There’s real invention here, which I believe to be exceptional.

Scott Hull

It just might be the rare unacknowledged work of comedic genius, or bold comedic ambition that used to always exist as undiscovered but now rarely seems to. What I’m saying is we mass market cult products such that there is never a chance for true potential cult items to exist. But I think Passable in Pink may be such an item.

Mike Pesca,
Slate’s the Gist

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Passable in Pink deftly sends up the 1980s and John Hughes movies while addressing the vital question: Will Addy Stevenson go to the senior prom?

Addy is suffering through her sophomore year at suburban Chicago’s Northridge High. She lives on the “wrong” side of the lake with her father, a struggling advertising copywriter (“Where the hell is the goddamn beef?”) and her ever-boozy mom (“Get me another drink, baby, and really make it sing.”). Addy’s younger brother, Spaz, her soon-to-marry older sister, Princess, and a visiting international transfer student add to the mix.

Her world is turned upside down when she meets Roland McDough, the “most beautiful Richie boy” at Northridge High. Is he actually interested in Addy, or is he just playing a game?

Are you ready to jump back into the cool, neon-glazed, high-topped reality of the 1980s? Do you miss those kick-ass tubular synth-rockin’ sounds and delicious phantasma-gaseous smells? When was the last time you put on your Members Only jacket and danced the Safety Dance?

A loving send-up of a bygone era, this is one book in which Every Breath You Take will remind you of How You Used to Be.