You know that very famous scene from this film where Julia Roberts, playing Vivian, the hooker with a heart of gold (well... maybe a gold-plated heart, because let's face it, she's a bit of a tacky dresser), returning to the Rodeo Drive boutique where she was previously snubbed by its saleswomen, walks in carrying a shitload of bags and sporting some fancy threads and says, "You work on commission, right? Big mistake! Huge!"? Well, I wish Garry Marshall had listened to that last part when he decided to make this film.
There are a lot of things that I object to in this film, not only as a feminist, not only as a woman, but as a human being--so many, in fact, that I shouldn't even bother getting into them here. But I will. My biggest objection is to the fact that this movie is touted as a "modern day fairy tale". Yeah, I know we're supposed to smirk and say "Ahh, that's because the movie's about prostitution, and that's a bad thing, but really, that's how society is these days--in these modern times" (overlooking the fact that prostitution is the world's oldest...oh, you know the rest), and so we're supposed to go along with it. But frankly, all I glean from that statement is that the patriarchy still lives, and it's bringing an overnight bag, because really, the depiction of women in this film is deplorable. It's Pygmalion, with hooker boots.
Because really, we get it: man teaches woman about a better life, and in turn, she teaches him to truly love. Now excuse me while I go write Mr. Marshall a letter, asking for my money back (and while I'm there, I'll ask about Beaches too, okay?). Okay, I'm back. Where was I? Oh yeah. I really, really, cannot abide this movie's message: that after putting up with Richard Gere's--sorry, "Edward Lewis's"-- patronizing "Follow me, I am your cultural Yoda" bullshit for a little over a week (and all for a paltry $3000), Julia--er, Vivian--decides she loves the guy, stank attitude and all.
Okay, so you're probably thinking, get over it, it's just a movie. Yes, it is just a movie. But it's a movie that perpetuates the idea that a woman must rely on a man, representing big business, to take care of her. Vivian was doing just fine on her own, (even if she did look a little like Carol Channing in that blonde wig). Yeah, Richard renounces his asshole-ish ways as a corporate takeover mastermind, he stops Jason Alexander's character from raping Vivian (in a highly disturbing, but psychoanalytically fascinating, scene), and he overcomes his fear of heights in order to climb her fire escape. But all this really says to me is that what patriarchy wants, patriarchy gets. (Let me just add here, as a disclaimer, that I am by no means a man-hater. I do, however, have a little problem with men who patronize women while wearing bad 80s suits, "power conferencing" on Zack Morris-sized phallic symbols--er, "cell phones"--and driving cars called "Lotus Esprit"s...even if they are Ferraris.)
I will give the film some credit. One: it's easy to see why this was a star-making role for Julia Roberts--she is ineffably charming, if a little starry-eyed. And two: unfeeling, uninteresting, uncharming Edward Lewis-- it's the role Richard Gere was born to play!
-reviewed by the ladybug, Mar.8, 2002
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