Ah, the mid-80s. A time when movie concepts could be wonderfully high-concept, charmingly goofy, and delivered with an earnestness that’s hard to replicate today. Remember stumbling across those VHS covers in the rental store, the ones promising a blend of fantasy, comedy, and maybe a touch of teenage angst? The Heavenly Kid (1985) was exactly that kind of discovery – a film perhaps overshadowed by bigger blockbusters but one that found a cozy afterlife on worn-out tapes played on countless CRT screens. It wasn't aiming for Oscars; it was aiming straight for the heart of anyone who ever felt awkward or wished for a magically cool guardian angel.

The film kicks off with pure greaser cool. We meet Bobby Fontana (Lewis Smith), a charismatic rebel in the late 1950s/early 60s (the film seems a little loose on the exact year) who lives fast, loves faster, and tragically dies young in a game of chicken gone wrong. Lewis Smith, who some might remember from Walter Hill's intense Southern Comfort (1981) or the cult sci-fi oddity The Adventures of Buckaroo Banzai Across the 8th Dimension (1984), absolutely nails the swaggering, James Dean-esque persona. But instead of pearly gates, Bobby finds himself... stuck. Stuck on a perpetually moving subway train heading "Uptown," a sort of celestial waiting room, until he can earn his wings. His ticket to the next level? Mentoring a kid back on Earth.

Flash forward to the glorious, neon-infused mid-1980s. Bobby's assignment is Lenny Barnes (Jason Gedrick), a textbook definition of a high school nerd: shy, bullied, hopelessly crushing on the most popular girl (Sharon, played by Anne Sawyer), and generally navigating the social minefield of adolescence with zero cool factor. Gedrick, who would soon pilot jets in Iron Eagle (1986), plays Lenny with a relatable vulnerability that makes you instantly root for him. Enter Bobby, invisible to everyone but Lenny, tasked with transforming this zero into a hero. What follows is a delightful fish-out-of-water scenario, with Bobby’s slick 50s sensibilities hilariously clashing with 80s culture. Think leather jackets and Brylcreem trying to make sense of new wave music and Members Only jackets.
The dynamic between Smith and Gedrick is the heart of the film. Bobby teaches Lenny how to walk the walk, talk the talk, fight back against bullies, and, crucially, how to approach girls. There's genuine fun in watching Lenny’s transformation, fueled by Bobby’s spectral coaching. But there's a wrinkle, of course. Lenny's widowed mother, Emily, is played by none other than Jane Kaczmarek (years before her iconic turn as Lois in Malcolm in the Middle). And wouldn't you know it, Emily was Bobby's high school sweetheart, the girl he left behind when he died. This adds an unexpected layer of poignant romance and unresolved history to the otherwise lighthearted proceedings. Kaczmarek brings warmth and gravity to the role, grounding the fantasy elements.


The Heavenly Kid wasn't exactly a box office smash, pulling in around $3.8 million on a reported $3.5 million budget. Like so many films of its era, its real life began on home video and cable television. It’s the kind of movie tailor-made for a Friday night rental – easy to watch, plenty of laughs, and a feel-good message. Director Cary Medoway, who also co-wrote the script, keeps things moving at a brisk pace, never letting the fantasy elements overwhelm the relatable teen story. Fun fact: This remains Medoway's most notable directorial credit, making it a unique entry in the 80s teen canon.
The special effects are, shall we say, of their time. Bobby's ethereal entrances and exits, his ability to manipulate objects – it's all achieved with practical effects and simple optical tricks that look charmingly retro today. There's no slick CGI here, just good old-fashioned movie magic that somehow feels more tangible. The soundtrack, featuring the title track by Jon Fiore, is pure 80s rock cheese, perfectly complementing the on-screen action. Filming took place in locations like Simi Valley High School in California, lending it that authentic suburban American teen movie feel.
Watching The Heavenly Kid today is like opening a time capsule. Yes, some of the humor is dated, the fashion choices are gloriously questionable, and the plot follows familiar beats. But its sincerity is undeniable. It doesn't try to be edgy or overly complex; it’s a sweet, simple story about finding confidence, second chances, and the enduring power of connection – even across dimensions (and decades). It taps into that universal teenage desire to be seen, to be cool, and ultimately, to be yourself. It reminds us of a time when movies could be unabashedly hopeful and wear their hearts on their sleeves. It might not be high art, but it possesses a certain magic, a nostalgic glow that still resonates.

Justification: While it hits many familiar 80s teen movie tropes and the effects are dated, The Heavenly Kid boasts genuinely charming performances from Lewis Smith, Jason Gedrick, and Jane Kaczmarek. Its high-concept premise is fun, the blend of 50s cool and 80s awkwardness provides solid laughs, and there's an underlying sweetness and emotional core that elevate it above pure fluff. It's a perfect slice of VHS-era comfort food, earning a solid score for its nostalgic appeal and earnest heart.
Final Thought: It may not have set the box office alight, but The Heavenly Kid earned its wings in the hearts of countless kids discovering it on a fuzzy VHS tape, proving that sometimes, the most memorable journeys aren't to "Uptown," but back to the video store aisle.