With 1990’s Monday Morning, we get a tale in the “bullied youth” category. It introduces us to teenaged Bobby Parker (Noah Blake).

Because his father Frank (Paul Henry Itkin) struggles to get work, the Parker family moves frequently. Bobby winds up at Oceana High, where he only finds friendship with prior acquaintance Bill Cobbs (Karl Wiedergott).

The local kids don’t care for the new arrival. In particular, student leader James Hedges (Brandon Hooper) becomes antagonistic toward Bobby.

Matters complicate more when Bobby starts to date James’ sister Noreen (Julianne McNamara). James decides to teach Bobby a lesson, and this comes with violent ramifications.

Though not mentioned in the synopsis, Monday largely follows a “rich vs. poor” theme. The film makes it clear from the get-go that in addition to a basic territorial notion related to the locals resentful of new arrivals, the bullies lean wealthy and dislike the needy newcomers.

None of this really matters, though, as Monday just turns into cheap teen melodrama. It ricochets from one silly scene to another with nary a lick of logic along the way.

The movie comes with a well-worn theme, and I find nothing wrong with the basic concept. However, the execution fizzles.

Much of that stems from the basic absence of coherence here, as Monday fails to explore its concepts well. One ridiculous scene connects to another.

This leads to an escalation of stakes to a ludicrous degree. I won’t toss out plot points that might act as spoilers, but the entire final act just goes bonkers - and not in a good way.

Nothing about the last half-hour or so makes any sense. It demands the viewer swallow one idiotic moment after another.

Monday compounds its poor script with no polish at all. Pacing seems spotty and nothing comes together in a smooth manner.

The actors don’t help, as each and every one of them overacts. Blake tries to meld Marlon Brando and James Dean but just comes across as comically overwrought.

It doesn’t help that all of these high schools look like they’re pushing 30 – and some were. Granted, that’s always been an issue with movies about teens, but it still creates an issue here.

Not that a more age-appropriate cast would’ve redeemed this mess of a movie. Overbaked, melodramatic and amateurish, nothing about this stinker works.

Monday Morning appears in an aspect ratio of 1.85:1 on this Blu-ray Disc. The movie came with an erratic transfer.

Sharpness usually worked fine, as much of the movie offered fairly good accuracy and clarity. That said, more than a few soft spots materialized, so this side of the image came with ups and downs.

No issues with jagged edges or shimmering occurred, and edge haloes remained absent. The image could be unusually grainy, and I saw sporadic instances of small specks and other print flaws.

While not dominant, these cropped up more often than I’d expect. A few odd anomalies in which little “scene blips” appeared turned up as well.

Colors varied, and at times, they could be fairly peppy and full. However, they could lean murky and flat on occasion as well.

Blacks seemed reasonably dark and dense, while shadows provided acceptable clarity. The image did enough well for a “C” but it lacked consistency.

At least the image topped the movie’s problematic LPCM monaural soundtrack. 1990 wasn’t that long ago, and the track shouldn’t sound as terrible as it did.

Speech remained intelligible, but the lines tended to be edgy and lacked a smooth feel. The dialogue leaned toward a strangely metallic vibe.

Effects seemed thin and without range or clarity. Music felt rough and shrill. This ended up as a pretty problematic soundtrack.

A few extras appear, and we get the movie’s original VHS version. Entitled Class of Fear, it runs 1:37:34 versus the 1:37:04 of Monday Morning.

Outside of Fear’s 1.33:1 aspect ratio, how do the two differ? Not much, as the two seem virtually identical other than title.

As far as I can tell, the main reason Fear runs 30 seconds longer than Monday stems from the former’s addition of a “Monarch Video” credit at the start.

Fear also keeps the image static until the presentation of the alternate title. In addition, a “fade to black” after the conclusion of the end credits lasts longer on Fear.

This means Fear and Monday really offer the same film, but don’t expect the two to come with the same quality. Whatever qualms I have about the Blu-ray’s presentation of Monday, it looks and sounds great compared to the rendition of Fear we find here.

Fear doesn’t just resemble a VHS copy of the film. It feels like a worn-out videotape, as it delivers terrible visuals.

I guess fans of the movie who grew up with the 1.33:1 version on VHS might enjoy this blast from the past. However, it becomes an objectively ugly way to watch the film.

An Interview with writer/director Don Murphy goes for 52 minutes, 51 seconds. The filmmaker discusses his time at film school and the movie’s origins/development, sets and locations, working with a low budget, cast and performances, story/characters, influences, music, the film’s release and his subsequent success as a producer.

I’d prefer a full commentary but I won’t mourn that absence too much since Murphy offers so much info here. Murphy gives us a pretty blunt look at the movie in this very good chat, even if he does confuse the Emilio Estevez and Judd Nelson roles from Breakfast Club.

Portrait of a Producer lasts 24 minutes, one second. Created for the Murphy-produced Double Dragon, Murphy discusses that film and other aspects of his career. “Portrait” lacks focus, but Murphy nonetheless brings us good notes.

Under Trailers, we get a “promotional clip” for Morning as well as ads for Double Dragon, Dirty Laundry and Action USA. The Morning promo just shows a snippet of the movie, so it makes for an odd beast.

Disjointed and absurd, Monday Morning becomes a ridiculous teen melodrama. The movie rarely makes a lick of sense and turns even more idiotic via the relentless overacting. The Blu-ray comes with iffy visuals, weak audio and a few good bonus materials. Nothing about this amateurish film works.