Things Only Adults Notice In Sky High

2005's Sky High tells the story of a school for teen superheroes. Its witty, brightly-colored vision of future costumed crusaders battling crushes and class schedules is a true delight. If you watched it at the right age, you might have spent hours in your yard trying to bend blades of grass to your will, or perhaps attempting to pick up a sibling with your pinky finger. Sky High makes it all feel so possible, if only for a moment — who's to say you, a normal kid from a normal place, couldn't become a superpowered student too?

Though more than a decade has passed since its premiere, it's still worth anyone's time, and rewards rewatching specifically. In the white-hot flare of superhero movie dominance, Sky High is a gentle throwback to superheroes at their silliest, before most of knew what Infinity Stones and Sokovia Accords even were. Moreover, it's a whole heck of a lot of fun to revisit as an adult: Sky High contains a wealth of details, dialogue, and dynamics that fly over the younger heads in the audience. These are the things you missed as a kid watching Sky High — and all the reasons you should rewatch it as an adult.

Layla's pacifist attitude is a common theme throughout the movie. She even refuses to show off her plant-based powers, because doing so violates her principles: She thinks a person's powers should only be used when the situation demands it. Does she live up to this code? Well, not really. Layla uses her abilities to give her crush an apple and make a flower at a restaurant table wilt. You know, high-stakes moments of life and death.

So perhaps it's not surprising that she seems to be violating her own principles when she's seen sporting a leather bag. Not many kids notice Layla's bag, or the other inconsistencies in her philosophy, but adults cotton on quickly. Of course, adults also understand that the teenage years are the age at which one learns that principles are complicated. Layla's figuring out her own values, and how best to carry them out. Still, though — someone tell this girl about the wide world of faux-leather goods.

Sky High is, like any school, a learning institution full of teens forming their first political opinions. The nuance of this dynamic most likely escapes kids — but adults, who might remember their adolescent causes with a cringe, catch every single line. Take Magenta: When she learns about the hierarchical organization of students at the school, she comments, "Power placement? Sounds fascist." She might be a little dramatic, but she's not wrong — this school runs on the separation of kids on the hero track and those destined for "hero support," otherwise known as sidekick status. Power matters here in a foundational way. Speaking of "hero support," a running joke revolves around the debate over the term. "I believe the preferred term is 'hero support,'" Ethan notes at one point, a type of niggling any adult can recognize as reminiscent of many real-world debates.

In one scene, Josie and Steve discuss their upcoming call with the President regarding "supervillain infiltration of the IRS." There is perhaps no joke that flies higher over kids' heads than this one. Their parents get a good chuckle out of it, however — figuring out one's taxes can certainly feel like being ensnared in some supervillain's scheme.

Sky High is jam-packed with character names that serve as puns and allusions to idioms and media few kids notice. At most, kids might catch the oxymoron in Warren Peace's name, but not know the classic work of literature it is based on. His name also refers to the conflicting nature of his parentage: His mother is a superhero, and his father is a villain. It's punny and it's thematically resonant! Then there's the fiendish Royal Pain. A "royal pain" is something that's infuriating beyond mere nuisance. Adults are more likely to know that phrase — and to be accustomed with the woes of life it signifies. 

As far as references go, a line delivered by the Commander recalls another movie starring Kurt Russell: 1986's Big Trouble in Little China. After taking a distress call, he dramatically informs Jetstream that there is trouble downtown, then repeats himself. "Big trouble," he intones gravely, "downtown."

As any fashion magazine will tell you, vertical stripes are slimming. So it's funny that Lash, who has the power to stretch himself thin (literally), wears horizontal stripes instead. His sleeves are also reminiscent of a striped prison uniform, perhaps foreshadowing his eventual reveal as a villainous character.

Many characters' outfits are significant in similar ways. Take Gwen Grayson's pink color scheme. The most universally feminine color stands in stark contrast to the fact that her supervillain persona, Royal Pain, is always assumed to be male. Pink is also a bright color, one that stands out in the crowd. This stands in dramatic opposition to Sue Tenny, Gwen's original self, who blended into the background as a geek. Her superpowers were poorly understood at the time, resulting in alienation from her classmates. Pink, in other words, is the last color you'd associate with her — which makes her rebirth as Gwen, and her ultimate plan, all the more thoughtful and surprising.

The soundtrack of Sky High is full of hits only adults will recognize. Cue the nostalgia! Tears for Fears' 1985 classic "Everybody Wants to Rule the World" starts the film off strong. Other hits include "Can't Stop the World" released by the Go-Gos in 1981, the Smiths' 1984 song "Please, Please, Please, Let Me Get What I Want," and "Just What I Needed" by the Cars (which technically came out in 1978).

This soundtrack represents the many cues Sky High takes from '80s media. Fans of The Breakfast Club, which came out in 1985, will recognize that core group of protagonists in Sky High's characters. Warren mirrors the brooding bad boy John Bender, Magenta calls back to the withdrawn Allison Reynolds, Zach, the goofy geek, reflects the character of Brian Johnson, Claire Standish is the principled and goody-two-shoes-ish Layla, and Will is characterized by the same defining athleticism as Andrew Clark. Another throwback comes from the sound effect played when Warren Peace attempts and fails to use his firepower in the power-proof detention room — a clicking Zippo lighter, just like Bender's.

When All-American Boy comments on the importance of avoiding clashing color schemes between heroes and sidekicks, he's taking a light jab at Batman and Robin's garb. The movie is full of similar references to its source materials that only the most comics-savvy members of the audience will get. In the most explicit sense of the word, the movie is derivative, after all — but not in the negative way that the word usually implies. No, Sky High just literally derives its story from the long history of superhero comics, and is creative enough to craft its own relationship to the canon of the medium. Loving jokes about tropes are just one piece of that puzzle.

Sky High pokes particular fun at hero (and villain) origin stories, especially the difference in experience between those who are radioactively transformed and those who inherit powers from their parents. There is even a joke at the end that ties up the story of Ron Wilson, the bus driver, in a charmingly goofy jab at chemical-induced superpowers: He falls into a vat of toxic waste and starts battling giant robots. That's the dream! His push broom appears to have fallen into the vat of toxic waste with him, given the fact that it too is enormous and glowing. Wilson is an unlikely superhero, and that's the point — these  stories are silly and unrealistic, and that's why we love them.