Hot Girl on Girl Action: Missing in The Women

The Women, a remake of the 1939 classic George Cukor film has opened, finally, after 14 years of development. And the consensus seems to be, Why?

John Hartl, Seattle Times:

There's an irritating self-consciousness about this update, in which one character claims that relationships need more work in the 21st century while another exclaims, "What is this, some kind of 1930s movie?" By the time it's over, you may wish it were.

Kenneth Turan, LA Times:

Never particularly believable, the story quickly unravels into schematic contrivance and wish-fulfillment fantasy.

Colin Covert, Mpls Star-Tribune:

Still playing winsome girlishness as she edges toward 50, the cosmetically enhanced Ryan clucks over the decision by her mother (Candice Bergen) to have a face-lift. For Ryan to speak in support of natural beauty through her famously collagen-inflated lips gives the message an ironic twist.

You know things are bad when Peter Travers can't say anything nice:

Think Sex and the City without the sex.

The Baltimore Sun's Michael Sragow  repeats this line, but has a very thoughtful take on the film:

English wrongheadedly updates the film by replacing catty negative stereotypes with equally shallow and less-funny positive stereotypes.

But Mary Elizabeth Williams, in Salon, seems to miss the point of the whole thing:

The weirdest element of the film, though, isn't its fevered pitch. It's that these smart, successful, got-your-back best pals don't even notice they're living in a dystopian nightmare where men are invisible.

Where to begin? Clare Booth Luce's play was mounted with the novelty of an all-female cast, and the 1939 film, adapted by Anita Loos and punched up by an uncredited F. Scott Fitzgerald and David Ogden Stewart, featured every big name actress in town--Norma Shearer, Joan Crawford, Rosalind Russell, and a couple dozen others.  No men. (Salon's readers point this out, but then the discussion dwindles.)

Diane English, with backing by Dove (making this production the biggest product placement vehicle ever) and Mick Jagger, who could have cast the whole thing from the ranks of his ex-es, stepped in to direct after James Brooks dropped out. Despite having a very successful television career, English had trouble getting distribution, and long story short, finally shot the film last summer in a little over a month.  With no rehearsal time, she got the principals together for a big sleepover bonding session at her house on Martha's Vineyard.  Since Sex and the City did so well,  execs figured the film might catch some of that chick-flick B.O .mojo and threw more money at promotion.

So why is today's film less successful? Have times changed so greatly? I think one reason is that  the '39 film's actresses  were such distinct types: Norma Shearer was the perfect wife, Joan Crawford was the  shameless, sexy gal on the make.

Today's stars just aren't as iconic, in either looks, public personas or film choices. A few years back, Annette Benning could have played the scheming hottie (Eva Mendes), but now she's most often seen as someone's addled mother, and will be playing Helen Thomas. That's a career trajectory that the old studio moguls would have stopped cold. (Crawford didn't start playing lonely loonie ladies until she was nearly 60.) Variety is necessary for an artist, but consistency  makes a movie star. 

When anyone can buy lingerie or a full mani/pedi/facial treatment at nearly any mall, the glamour of the situations in the film don't translate well into the present.  Instead of waiting out her divorce decree at a dude ranch, sipping cocktails , Mary and her pals go to an rustic spa and smoke dope.

To echo Sragow, The First Wives Club is a very funny slapstick update, and Friends with Money laid out female friendships in a more subtle, but killing way.  Hop on to Netflix and stay home.