|
By
NICK ZEGARAC
Michael Gottlieb’s Mannequin
(1987) is a bizarre romantic comedy, so garishly
delightful and unabashedly sexist, that it could
only have been made and become enormously
successful in the wacky-tacky film culture of the
1980s. It stars teen heartthrob and former brat
packer, Andrew McCarthy as Jonathan Switcher, an
artist toiling with his passion for sculpture in a
mannequin factory. Unfortunately for Jonathan,
there’s no place for artistic integrity in mass
commercialism and assembly line production.
Before being fired, Jonathan creates ‘Emmy’ (Kim
Cattrall), his ideal female form. Later, Jonathan
is shocked when Emmy comes to life – imbued with
the wandering spirit of the daughter of an
Egyptian pharaoh who has discovered the secrets of
time travel by accident. The wrinkle: only
Jonathan can see Emmy in the flesh. Everyone else
only sees the mannequin. Naturally, this creates
problems for their going out on dates. So Jonathan
gets a job at Prince & Co.; the department store
that is Emmy’s home, and where the two indulge
their every whim each night after store hours.
But suspicious store manager, Mr. Richards (James
Spader) is not buying the act. Furthermore, he is
a spy for rival department store, Illustra where
Jonathan’s ex, Roxie Shield (Carole Davis) is
employed as an executive. Together with
ex-security guard, Felix Maxwell (G.W. Bailey),
Richards and Roxie steal Emmy from Prince & Co. to
blackmail Jonathan into joining their team.
Mindless, convoluted and totally impractical fluff
– but carried off with such slick panache and
disregard for continuity that, on the whole, the
film remains a perverse distraction and minor
hilarity worth revisiting from time to time. The
one shameless bit of ham acting falls to Meshach
Taylor as flaming homosexual window dresser,
Hollywood Montrose. The kinetic sparing between
straight-laced Jonathan and ‘the queen’ of Prince
& Co. is delightfully oblivious to its obvious
insulting interpretation of the gay community.
MGM’s DVD is quite adequately rendered;
anamorphic, with characteristically garish 80s
vintage color, flesh tones that are a tad pasty
and more pink than expected, solid contrast levels
and a hint of age related artifacts that do not
distract. Blacks are deep and solid. Whites are
generally clean though exhibit a slight patina of
gray around the edges. The audio is Dolby stereo
and quite sufficient for this primarily dialogue
driven comedy. There are NO extras. |
