‘Mannequin’ or — Hurray for Hollywood?
“Uh-oh!” I gulped to myself when Meshach Taylor’s ridiculously camp gay stereotype Hollywood Montrose initially appeared on-screen, “Is this film going to be nothing but a string of cheap gags and dated cliches?” This fear seemed fleetingly confirmed when G. W. Bailey’s Felix refers to Hollywood with a nasty slur, but then Andrew McCarthy immediately hits back by calling Felix a “bigoted jerk” so it quickly transpires that not only does ‘Mannequin’ (1987) never come close to indulging in any mean-spirited shots but feels almost actively progressive with Hollywood Montrose being the funniest, caring and most pro-active character in the entire movie!
Kim Cattrall plays Emmie, a shop mannequin who comes to life whenever she’s alone with Jonathan (Andrew McCarthy), a department store display window designer. At night they flirt, fall in love, have sex, dance about to pop music in the greatest 1980’s montage ever filmed and put together window displays so spectacular they soon incur the envy and jealousy of Jonathan’s ex-girlfriend, Roxie (Carole Davis), and the rival department store she works for.
If it sounds stupid that’s because it is but that’s also because rampant stupidity is ‘Mannequin’s main objective, something it effortlessly achieves with a deliriously deranged style. Apparently co-writer/director Michael Gottlieb’s primary instruction to the cast was to make their performances as silly as possible, pushing them with every new take to ramp up the insanity. And goodness, did they deliver!
This is best exemplified (outside of Hollywood himself, of course) by James Spader’s store manager Mr. Richards, a character of such smarmy refinement he’s like an evil Niles Crane. He’s astonishing to behold, to the extent I kept thinking “Is this Spader’s greatest performance?”
This unashamed, brash and brassy attitude of unrepentant (and, most importantly, good-natured) silliness results in some incredibly funny moments, moments such as…
After Jonathan gets a promotion the staff are listening at the ladies’ toilet door where Jonathan, Hollywood and the mannequin are inside having a highly emotional moment when Estelle Getty’s store owner walks up and asks “Who’s crying in there?” to which one of them replies “It’s either our new vice president, the fairy or the zombie.”
Or how about when a distraught Hollywood, in an attempt to appear professional, reveals he’s wearing a grey business suit and implores Jonathan “Oh, please don’t tell anyone you saw me dressed like this. I have a reputation to uphold!”
Although my favourite moment is when Roxie, furious that she’s been supplanted in Jonathan’s affections by an inanimate dummy, is comforted by her perma-horny Italian friend Armand (Christopher Maher) with the words –
“Roxie! You know what you need to do right now? You need to put him and this whole nasty affair out of your mind. Now, how is the best way to do that, huh? By having a night of distasteful sex with someone you care absolutely nothing about! And proudly, I would like to be that person.”
To which Roxie replies — “Fine, let’s just go to your place.”
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ARMAND (shocked at his luck) — “Really?!!!!”
ROXIE — “Drive fast before I have second thoughts.”
ARMAND- “Armand is the wind!”
Needless to say when they get into bed he can’t get it up.
Of course it’s Hollywood Montrose who steals the show with nearly every word he utters now seared in my brain. There’s his introduction to Jonathan –
“I’m so glad you’re working here.”
“You are?”
“Well, of course I am honey. I never thought they’d hire anyone stranger than me. Ha ha!”
… as well as his lamentation regarding his cellulite –
“Diets don’t work! It’s those jelly doughnuts. They call to me in the middle of the night: “Hollywood! Hollywood! Come and get me, Hollywood!” I can’t stay away from them. It’s like you and women’s dressing rooms.”
This last line of Hollywood’s might be the film’s central philosophy and the key to its appeal — it’s explicitly anti-shame.
I can understand why the critics detested this movie on release because it’s so unapologetically daft it could be arrested for wanton exhibitionism. But I can understand why audiences loved it because it’s a film that’s having a huge amount of fun with itself and wants you to join in, too, and if you do the pull is irresistible. It’s scrappy, sure, but that loose, almost inept feel keeps everything energetic, nimble and surprisingly adorable.
At the 1988 Academy Awards ‘Mannequin’ was nominated for best original song but, in my opinion, it should also have been nominated for best picture… and it should’ve won.
