Old Writing for a New Age

(Originally written many years ago for the Grad News, Johns Hopkins: more proof that I'm a horrid writer.)

Few works in modern cinematic history capture perfectly the spirit of a generation. One that embodied the essence of the eighties has gone forgotten for far too long. The work I speak of is the directorial debut of Michael Gottlieb, Mannequin. Relegated to replays on the USA channel and dusty video store shelves, the brilliance of this comedy’s satirical content has been lost to generations since its 1987 release.

When I picked up the cover at the local video store, the tagline spoke to me with the
same resonance as if from the lips of Ollie North, hand raised: “Just because Jonathan’s fallen in love with a piece of wood, it doesn’t make him a dummy.”

Indeed, nothing about this film is stiff (ugh). Andrew McCarthy, playing the role of the young artist Jonathan Switcher, turns in a performance that rivals his subsequent work in 1994’s Dead Funny or the masterful A Father for Brittany, a piece only seen on Australian cable
television. Indeed, if not for his poor decision in choosing films (the awful Joy Luck Club or the critically disdained Mulholland Falls ), his star power surely would have rivaled that of Weekend at Bernie’s co-star Jonathan Silverman.

As Jonathan, McCarthy paints the picture of an artistic soul tormented by the loss of arts funding during the Reagan era who faces the daunting task of finding his humanity in a society
increasingly focused on wealth and selfishness. McCarthy’s character resonates with pathos and frustration as he marches through the apathy generated by a culture of consumerism.

Into his life, Johnathan’s muse reveals herself in the form of a department store mannequin, played by the incomparable Kim Cattrall (of Sex and the City fame). Symbolizing the human necessity for a connection to history as well as love, Cattrall’s “Emmy” is an Egyptian princess trapped within the wooden body of a mannequin who comes to life in the presence of
Jonathan. He starts working at the department store, where Emmy is a display figure, after saving the life of the owner (Betty White).

When Emmy and Jonathan redesign the window displays, the store attracts attention, much to the chagrin of competitors. James Spader plays an executive who challenges the moral limits of audiences as he attempts to sabotage the couple, delving to murderous intent to stop the artistic revelry that has translated into economic success.

Not only is the movie hilarious, with many belly-laugh moments, especially by veteran character actor Meshach Taylor as the flamboyant “Hollywood” Montrose, but the symbolic nature of the script written by Gottlieb is well represented by the able cast. The audience will finish watching the movie overwhelmed with philosophical questions about the role of feminism in American society, Marxist criticism of capitalism, and the idea of the artist as a creator of cultural change.

Several intense scenes will strike the viewer, such as the slapstick homage to great comedic villains by the character Felix (Jonathan Switzer). His performance, with co-star bulldog Rambo,
an obvious inspiration for the Tom Hanks vehicle Turner & Hooch, is amazing in that it melds comedy with a nod to the struggle of animalism faced by modern-day religion.

Arguably the greatest scene of the entire film is the opening animated montage. Reinventing the beginning of a film, usually comprised of set shots with acknowledgements to cast and crew, Mannequin tells the back story of Emmy’s life in Egypt and how she comes to be
cursed with immortality, trapped in the body of a mannequin. Progressing at a furious pace provided by the epic Bangles song Walk Like an Egyptian, the idea of woman as objet d’art is powerfully rendered in the two-dimensional cartoon.

To truly understand the film, one must realize that both Emmy and Jonathan are two souls who have lost their humanity. The transition from animation to wood to flesh is a satisfying journey in reclaiming life via a rocky journey through the landscape of the heart.

This film definitely deserves reviewing by modern audiences. The film, purely on entertainment
standards, is highly enjoyable. Truly Mannequin deserves a spot in the pantheon of great films, alongside classics such as The Money Pit and Adventures in Babysitting. Its true value, however, lies in the film’s scathing recollections on the cultural pitfalls of the 1980’s.

Wrapped in a fairytale love story, we witness the rebirth of meaning in art and life. As the back-cover tagline boldly proclaims, “When she comes to life, anything can happen!”
Watch this with a loved one or with your philosophy club—you won’t be disappointed.