Mannequin (90 minutes)

Reality is very disappointing.

I officially saw Barbie last weekend. I had my nails painted pink for the first time in what felt like years, I wore a bright and colorful outfit, I laughed with my friends, we had cute pink drinks after. It was everything feminine and lovely that I am usually not (for one reason or another) and I have to say, I loved it. Oppenheimer is next and I am bracing myself. Wherever you stand in the Barbenheimer argument is fine with me. It’s truly just exciting that we have blockbusters in the theaters again! Maybe soon we’ll have 90-minute movies in the theater again? A girl can dream. But until then, this remains a great place to find excellent 90-minute movies to watch:

Speaking of inanimate women coming to life. Let’s talk about the unsettling film that is Mannequin (1987, 90 minutes). I did this to myself. I wanted to watch a “classic” that I had somehow missed over the years. I wanted to be surprised and delighted. I wanted to be silly… I was certainly surprised, definitely silly, and way less so delighted. 

Mannequin is about… well… It's about a woman from ancient Egypt named Emmy (Kim Cattrall) who, when forced into an arranged marriage by her mother, prays to the gods to send her to her true love instead. The gods heed her request and she disappears from her mother’s eyes. Emmy travels through decades as a muse to “great” men, landing in Philadelphia, 1987. There we are introduced to Jonathan Switcher (Andrew McCarthy). Switcher is a sculptor working a series of jobs he can’t keep. After sculpting a perfect mannequin who looks an awful lot like Emmy, Switcher gets a job at a department store to be close to her. Shortly after, she comes to life just for him and the two must figure out how to be in love though no one around them understands. 

This movie bombed at the box office. Ebert gave it a half star, putting it on the unofficial list of his 50 most hated films. I know by now all my avid readers know that I often disagree with Ebert when it comes to my beloved short films, but I need to share it here for context. This isn’t a silly 80s movie that killed it and now hasn’t aged well. It’s always been poorly received. Even I rated it 2-stars on Letterboxd and I tend to be overly generous. But despite all of that, I want to try and focus on the positives of Mannequin because all art-- even window dressing and ill conceived rom coms-- deserve a closer look. 

What little charm this movie has resides in its minor characters. I love Andrew McCarthy in general and I love Kim Cattrall’s scatting, but they’re giving very little in Mannequin. Cattrall is playing a 4,000 year old Egyptian muse who somehow understands the concept of tennis and department store window dressing but not what a stereo is. The most distinguishing characteristic of McCarthy’s Switcher is that he is an “artist” and wears bowling shoes. It just doesn’t work and their chemistry feels stilted and off. But luckily we’re somewhat saved by the performances of our supporting cast. Meshach Taylor, Estelle Getty, and James Spader bring campy humor and depth to an otherwise boring landscape. 

Meshach Taylor, best known for his role on Designing Women, plays Hollywood Montrose, another window dresser at the Prince and Company department store that Switcher starts working at as a stock boy (before Emmy’s window brilliance gains him a promotion). In many ways Hollywood is a stereotypical “gay best friend”. He is loud and flamboyant and prone to theatrics. But in other ways he is quite groundbreaking for 1987. He talks about his long term relationship, sex, and heartbreak, unlike other depictions of other gay men in mainstream media at the time who were written to only serve as a light hearted sidekick. They never have their own relationships, certainly not long term ones, and do not suffer their own heartache or pain. 

Now, Hollywood certainly fulfills the tropes of the best friend-- stepping aside so Switcher can shine, protecting his relationship with Emmy, etc. BUT Switcher returns this support and kindness throughout the movie. Like when the grimy security guard makes a comment toward Hollywood and Switcher refers to him as a bigot. A two-sided friendship like this feels rare for an 80s film, and especially so between a white straight man and a Black gay man. There is more written about this relationship over on The Stranger that I didn’t even catch when watching, so give it a read if you’re interested in learning more. 

James Spader can certainly play a great asshole. In Mannequin he is Richards, Prince and Company’s store manager who is secretly being paid by competing department store Illustra to sabotage his current employer and render them bankrupt. Spader gives an excellent performance that can only be described as sniveling, particular, and petty. I do have to admit that Mannequin is a perfect example of stakes and world building. A movie doesn’t need to be about the world, but merely a small piece of it. In this case, dueling Philly department stores and their employees. While I couldn’t believe Kim Cattrall was Egyptian, I could believe Spader as Richards yelling: “What arrogance! That worm of a stock boy has created an affront to the dignity of this store. I'll have it taken down immediately and make sure that lunatic never works in this town again.” 

We don’t get too much of Estelle Getty as Claire Timkin, the owner of Prince and Company, but her light shines through every scene. Here is a woman who has taken over for her deceased father, a woman dedicated to the survival of her business not for money but because walking through the front doors “feels like home.” And while it takes her the entire 90 minutes to figure out that Richards is sabotaging her, we are nonetheless charmed by her appreciation for her “off-color” employees Switcher and Montrose. 

Thank god for the supporting cast of this movie or I would have given up during the outfit change montage between Emmy and Switcher. Normally, I’d accept such nonsense but they didn’t earn that from me this time around. And as we know, it didn’t win over moviegoers in 1987 either. BUT it did beat out Over The Top in its opening weekend at the box office and it did put Diane Warren on the map. Her original song “Nothing’s Gonna Stop Us Now” was nominated for an Academy Award, a Golden Globe, and an Emmy. (Not our Emmy, of course.) A bizarre historical fact for a bizarre movie. Warren said it best herself, “I just think it's special that my first Oscar-nominated song was about a guy fucking a mannequin.” 

Me too, Diane, me too.