A “Working Girl” in the Era of #MeToo

The 1988 film Working Girl begins with a huge, dramatic helicopter shot that captures the Statue of Liberty in all her glory. Liberty’s face—solemn and serene as she looms above New York Harbor—gives way to the faces of two young women riding the Staten Island ferry to their Manhattan jobs. Cyn (Joan Cusack) and Tess (Melanie Griffith) sport Big Hair and Big Makeup. What we don’t see at first are the Big Dreams that will propel Tess, after some twists and turns, into the heady world of high finance.

I re-watched Working Girl because, as the author of a new book on the implications of The Graduate, I’m fascinated by the cinema career of director Mike Nichols. Nichols, who has been accused of being cold and even bitter in his approach to art, has certainly made some dark films, with Carnal Knowledge perhaps at the head of the list. But Working Girl – something of a Cinderella romance -- taps into the sunnier side of Nichols. This film is optimistic in seeing that a smart and savvy young woman, one who keeps her wits about her and is not above a bit of strategic deceit, can make it past her working-class roots and the condescending title of  “secretary” to succeed among big-business veterans. 

Working Girl has always been a popular film. In its day it earned six Academy Award nominations (including Best Picture), and brought in  an Oscar for Carly Simon’s powerful song, “Let the River Run.” And it was made with Mike Nichols’ usual careful attention to detail: locations, costumes, and casting are all impeccable. But in the wake of the #MeToo movement, it can be viewed in a slightly different light. 

The film opens with a dirty trick. Tess, whose professional aspirations have led her to take night classes and read every bit of newsprint that comes her way, badly wants to advance beyond secretarial duties at the investment bank where she works. The guys in the nearby cubicles set her up for a meet-and-greet with Bob Speck, who supposedly has an opening for a bright young newcomer. Truth is—he’s a coke-snorting slimeball who only wants to get in her pants. (The fact that he’s played by the young Kevin Spacey, who recently has had his own #MeToo problems, makes the scene seem all the more current.) 

But there’s more to come. Tess’s new boss, Katharine Parker (Sigourney Weaver) starts off sounding collegial and even sisterly. But she turns out to be even more of a snake than the egregious Bob. While she listens attentively to Tess’s bright business ideas, she’s secretly passing them off as her own. In the course of the film, canny  businessmen ultimately prove themselves to be on Tess’s side, while the #1 bad apple is the one female we see in an executive position. So the feminism the film seems to espouse is two-pronged. 

A further irony: handsome young Jack (Harrison Ford) comes to love Tess for her audacity and the sharpness of her mind. But he first flips over her at a social event when, clad in a fancy dress swiped from Katharine’s closet, she dazzles him with her looks. There’s a moment early on when she mildly gripes that a blue-collar Staten Island beau (Alec Baldwin!) insists on buying her Victoria’s Secret-style undies for all gift-giving occasions. But, as her hairstyle and clothing sense grow more sophisticated, she’s still got those sexy scanties on underneath, as the film makes amply clear. That’s Hollywood for you: however bright a woman may be, she’s still required to show sex appeal.

May the Fourth Be With You (as you battle beyond the stars)

I didn’t realize until recently that May 4 is a new American holiday. Yes, it’s Star Wars Day (as in “May the fourth be with you” – it helps if you lisp). Hard to believe it’s been more than forty years since Luke Skywalker first picked up a lightsaber and Han Solo piloted the Millennium Falcon into our hearts. Since then, the Star War universe has become crowded with oddly-named characters, Disneyland has added some new attractions, and George Lucas has evolved into a very rich man.

I’ve never pretended that futuristic fantasy is my favorite genre. Still, the success of the original Star Wars (1977) inspired my former boss to shift gears in a big way. Since he launched his own production and distribution company, New World Pictures, in 1970, Roger Corman had always favored down-and-dirty genre films that could be shot quickly and cheaply, mostly on the streets of L.A. To a high degree, his movies depended on the energy that came from capturing life in the raw. But Star Wars changed all that. Suddenly Roger, always quick to capitalize on trends in the making, saw the advantage of owning a studio, the better to create special effects and launch a space opera of his own.

Roger’s minions spied out a promising piece of land, half of a city block, on Main Street in Venice, California. For years it had been the Hammond Lumber Yard. Because the site was only three blocks from the Pacific Ocean, it fell under the purview of the California Coastal Commission, then comprised of aging hippies who were deathly afraid of gentrification. After much wrangling, the group issued an ultimatum: that New World pledge not to modernize the buildings’ shabby exteriors, nor to improve their looks in any way. Almond, a savvy negotiator, looked grave, then promised to see what he could do, in exchange for major concessions on other points. Says he, “I went back to Roger and said, ‘I can close the deal but there’s one really onerous condition. We can’t modernize the outside of the buildings.’ Roger looked at me, I looked at him, and we just burst into laughter.” The joke, of course, is that Roger Corman is not a man to squander money on décor. For years the Hammond Lumber sign remained in place, and the occasional visitor would wander by in search of a two-by-four.

Roger’s attempt at Star Wars turned out to be a proving ground for several major talents. The script for Battle Beyond the Stars, a sort of outer-space variant on Akira Kurosawa’s timeless Seven Samurai, was crafted by a young writer named John Sayles, eager to move from writing magazine stories to making his way in the film industry. One day another newbie showed up, promoting a front-projection camera rig he’d designed to accommodate special-effects shots. Corman was unimpressed with his results, but James Cameron rebounded into the position of model maker, and then art director, devising sets out of little more than foamcore, hot glue, gaffer’s tape, and spraypaint. He had everyone collecting Styrofoam containers from McDonald’s hamburgers: when spraypainted silver, these looked impressive lining the walls of a spacecraft corridor. One Corman assistant describes how “if the actors should turn around quickly and slam into the wall, the whole thing would crumble.” That’s when Cormanites had to start eating more hamburgers.

Sayles and Cameron may have been bound for success, but not so the film’s director. An experienced production designer, he could not cope with actors and on-set complications. That’s when Roger himself quietly stepped in to direct the director.

Inside the Inland Empire: “The Graduate” Rides Again

The Inland Empire is a picturesque term for a vaguely defined area of Southern California comprising parts of San Bernardino and Riverside counties, along with nearby communities. Some civic boosters include the Indio and Palm Springs areas, which means that the über-trendy Coachella Music and Arts Festival—where Beyoncé just made such a serious desert splash—is part of the Inland Empire too. 

I was invited to speak on my new book, Seduced by Mrs. Robinson, for the Dome series at the San Bernardino County Museum. I’ve often seen this distinctive freeway-close complex (located in the city of Redlands) while driving to visit relatives at holiday time, but I had no idea what awaited me inside the museum’s geodesic dome. First of all, Inland Empire folks just seem to be a little nicer, a little friendlier, and much less harried than their L.A. counterparts. Before my talk, I also had time to check out the museum’s permanent displays. Most memorable was the so-called Remember Ramp, which contains useful items I remember all too well (a dial telephone, an adding machine, a manual typewriter) so that children can see—and fiddle with—the stuff that was a hit before their mothers were born. Yes, I once owned a turquoise Princess Phone just like the one in the acrylic display case. And Mrs. Robinson of The Graduate tried to summon the cops to scare Benjamin Braddock with just such a phone. (Hers was stark white; the lady didn’t go in for flashy pastels.) 

After my talk, I treated myself to a night at the most celebrated hostelry of the region, Riverside’s venerable Mission Inn. This magnificent pile of vaguely Spanish arches, turrets, and balconies dates back to the early 20^th century, in an era when the  California citrus industry was golden. It’s known for playing host to presidents (Richard and Pat Nixon where married there, and a special chair was ordered for the comfort of our largest POTUS, William Howard Taft). But Hollywood celebrities in love with the area’s warm, dry climate also dropped in; there’s a charming tale about Cary Grant searching out the particularly comfy room in which he’d stayed on a previous visit.

Remarkably, the city of Riverside grew up around the hotel. Riverside’s civic buildings are located just up the street, and a more recent celebrity is now putting down roots nearby. Comic actor Cheech Marin, of Cheech and Chong fame, is establishing—a short walk from the Mission Inn—a museum to house his notable collection of Chicano art.  It will be known as the Cheech Marin Center for Chicano Art, Culture and Industry.

 Coming home from the Inland Empire, I made a detour into the nearby Pomona Valley to see with my own eyes a famous location used in the filming of The Graduate. This is the United Methodist Church, the striking glass-and-stucco structure where Ben Braddock pounded on the glass of the upstairs balcony to alert his love, Elaine Robinson, that he had come to rescue her from a marriage to someone else. Back in the day, the presence of a film crew made the Methodist congregation uneasy. Today they’re proud to show off the premises to the film’s fans, will happily snap photos of visitors pounding in that famous balcony, and can spin yarns about other film shoots that came their way because of this one: Wayne’s World 2 and Bubble Boy, to name a few. Our guide remembered best of all the day a sexagenarian Dustin Hoffman showed up to rescue another young bride, all for the sake of an Audi commercial. 

This one’s for Melissa Russo of the San Bernardino Museum, Cati Porter of Inlandia, and my delightful Riverside cousin, Rosalie Anderson. 

And here's info about radio station KPCC's upcoming screening of The Graduate at the fabulous Theatre at Ace Hotel in Downtown L.A. The date is Saturday, June 2.