Even when contextualized as the product of a gung-ho America juiced by patriotic fervor, some aspects of Red Dawn have not aged well. The film’s take on masculinity is so potent, you can practically smell the testosterone (yes, Virginia, it smells like victory). After they bag a deer, Matt and Jed encourage their buddy Robert (C. Thomas Howell) to drink its blood so he can feel its “spirit” and be “a real hunter.” The group handles their newfound weapons with astonishing ease, as if they’ve been firing bazookas since birth. Following the death of friends and loved ones, the young men are told to resist crying and turn their emotions to anger. It’s a wonder they don’t don animal skins and go full-on Lord of the Flies.