|
Even
if you've never seen The Stepford Wives (1975), you probably
understand that the name embodies a type of eerie perfectionism.
It's become part of the pop culture vernacular, a testament to the
lasting impression The Stepford Wives has left on the American
psyche. With a story that relies heavily on the battle between the
sexes, The Stepford Wives is a cult classic that serves as
a time capsule of 1970's fashion and feminism.
Walter
Eberhart (Peter Masterson) packs up his family and moves to the
New England town of Stepford. His wife, Joanna, is played by the
beautifully bland Katherine Ross. After setting up house, Joanna
tries to settle into the routine of a quiet suburban life.
One
afternoon, Joanna and Walter witness a fender bender between their
neighbor Carol Van Sant (Nanette Newman) and another hapless Stepford
wife. Tough she only has a bump on the head, Carol is whisked away
in an ambulance. As the emergency vehicle speeds out of the parking
lot, Joanna notices something odd, "I know we're new here,
but isn't Stepford hospital that way?"
Walter
seems visibly disturbed after his first meeting with the Stepford
Men's Association. When asked why he's so upset, Walter brushes
his wife's concerns aside by praising Joanna and telling her how
much he loves her.
Joanna
soon finds a new friend in kooky neighbor Bobbie Markowe. Joanna
Cassidy was originally cast, but was quickly replaced by fast-talking
Paula Prentiss. "I'm also an ex-gothamite who's been living
here in Ajax country for just over a month now and I'm going crazy."
Bobbie also confides that, "Given complete freedom of choice,
I don't want to squeeze the goddamn Charmin!" Prentiss is given
some of the movie's wackiest lines, such as, "Two things I
always carry, Tampax and Ring-Dings, and I don't even want to think
what that means."
Bobbie
commiserates with Joanna about the happy homemakers of Stepford,
"It's like there's a contest okay, and the housewife with the
cleanest house gets Robert Redford for Christmas…but nobody
will tell the rules." If the camaraderie between Joanna and
Bobbie seems reminiscent of another famous female duo, it's because
screenwriter William Goldman envisioned Mary Tyler Moore and Valerie
Harper as the female leads.
Walter
brings home a few members of the Men's Association one evening,
so Joanna dresses to impress in a crocheted cocktail gown. While
fixing coffee in the kitchen, she's watched by creepy Association
head Dale Coba, "I like to see women doing small domestic chores."
"You
came to the right town." When Joanna asks why he's nicknamed
Diz, he explains that it's because he used to work at Disneyland.
"You don't look like someone who enjoys making other people
happy." The men of the New Projects Committee intently study
her as they meet in the living room. Joanna can't understand her
husband's enthusiasm for the Men's Association, "You wouldn't
have given those bores the time of day back in Manhattan."
At
a neighborhood garden party, Carol Van Sant shows signs that she
hasn't quite recovered from that bump on the noggin. Clad in a full
length prairie dress, Carol wanders among the other party guests
repeating over and over, "I'll just die if I don't get this
recipe." It's meant to be chilling, but it's just one of the
film's gleefully funny highlights.
Joanna
and Bobbie decide to shake things up by starting a women's group.
They happen upon tennis loving redhead Charmaine (Tina Louise of
television's Gilligan's Island). When they finally round-up
enough women for a consciousness raising group, it's a complete
bust. The only thing Stepford wives have on their minds is baking,
getting their floors to shine, and the wonders of Easy-On spray
starch.
While
on an evening walk, Joanna chases the family dog to the gates of
the gothic mansion that houses the ominous Men's Association. The
town sheriff pointedly warns her to stay away.
It
turns out that there was once a thriving women's club in Stepford
and Carol Van Sant was its president. Charmaine has changed her
tune as well. After a weekend away with her husband, her tennis
court is being torn out because she's too busy with her domestic
duties. These odd transformations lead Bobbie to theorize that there
must be something in the water that's changing the women of Stepford.
"I think we oughta take a sample of the water ourselves and
then get it to a trustworthy chemist."
Joanna
lets slip this juicy tidbit from her past, "I lost my virginity
to a trustworthy chemist."
Mr.
Scientist gives them this diagnosis, "You've got water in your
water."
Though
only a hobby, Joanna shows some of her snapshots of the children
to a New York gallery owner who encourages her budding talent. After
a weekend away ,
Bobbie has (not too surprisingly) changed for the worse. Her hair
is coiffed, her make-up is immaculate, and her house is clean. Even
though she's now a bona fide Stepford wife, Bobbie's wry sense of
humor manages to sneak though her newly created exterior, "If
you tell me you don't like this dress, I'm sticking my head right
in the oven." A very clean oven no doubt.
In
an absolute panic over the change in her friend, Joanna insists
on moving right away. Walter thinks she's being unreasonable and
suggests she talk to a psychiatrist. She eventually reveals her
conspiracy theory to an understanding analyst. "I think the
men are behind it. If I am wrong, I'm insane…and if I'm right,
it's worse than if I'm wrong." Charmaine changed after four
months of moving to Stepford. Bobbie changed after four months too.
Joanna's time is running out! "There'll be somebody with my
name and she'll cook and clean like crazy, but she won't take pictures
and she won't be me!"
Joanna
finds her house is dark and the kids are missing. She runs next
door looking for the children and confronts Bobbie in her kitchen.
Desperate to prove her theory, Joanna picks up a knife and stabs
her best friend. With
a perplexed look, Bobbie removes the knife and puts it away. "My
new dress. How could you do a thing like that… when I was just
going to give you coffee." Bobbie moves in an endless circle,
short circuiting, spilling coffee grounds and breaking cups. "I
thought we were friends…when I was just going to give you coffee."
Through
the dark and stormy night, Joanna makes her way to the Men's Association.
Searching the vast rooms of the mansion Joanna finds Diz and demands
to know why the men would do something so terrible. "Because
we can." is his answer.
Joanna
is shocked to find an exact replica of her master bedroom, and sitting
at a dressing table is an exact replica of her! With a smile on
her artificial lips and a gleam in her robotic eye, Joanna's duplicate
moves menacingly towards her human counterpart.
In
the famous final scene, we're confronted with the most horrific
sight thus far… the women of Stepford shopping! Dressed in
giant sun bonnets and conservative dresses, the Stepford wives glide
placidly up and down the grocery store aisles. In a haze of consumer
perfection, the ladies shop and exchange pleasantries with one another.
As the melancholy theme plays, we see that Joanna is now one of
them. Perfect and bland in every way. With a vacant look on her
beautiful face, she goes about her domestic chores.
There
seem to be two schools of thought concerning The Stepford Wives.
Some believe that the film is a taught thriller, a cautionary tale
about the dangers of conformity with humorous moments that are meant
as subversive satire about taking the ideals of suburban perfection
to a frightening extreme.
Others
might argue that the idea of the perfect woman being perfectly submissive
is so crazily sexist that it can't help but be pure camp. Enthusiasts
of Cool Cinema Trash will most likely belong to the latter group.
Novelist
Ira Levin, who struck gold with Rosemary's Baby, takes that
book's popular premise (paranoia and devil worship), tweaked it
slightly (paranoia and robots) and wrote the thematically similar
bestseller The Stepford Wives. Levin was exploiting the irrational
fear that men would become obsolete in light of the modern liberated
woman. But where the Roman Polanski film version of Rosemary's
Baby (1968) remains timeless, as scary today as it was thirty-five
years ago, the film version of The Stepford Wives is so steeped
in the gender politics of the 1970's that it can't help but show
its age. What made it so chilling and topical upon its release in
1975, now makes it comedic.
The
idea that a group of men would trade in their liberated but loving
wives for cold, unfeeling but "perfect" robots, is extreme
to say the least. The fact that the film handles the material with
such straight-faced reverence, when the concept itself is so ripe
for satire, makes it wonderfully absurd. This is most likely the
reason the all-star 2004 remake was made an intentional comedy and
not a straight forward thriller.
The
silver anniversary edition DVD by Anchor Bay Entertainment features
a widescreen version of the film and some nice extras that include
radio commercials, a theatrical trailer (which does everything it
can to associate itself with the blockbuster Rosemary's Baby)
and a brief but informative featurette that includes reminiscences
by the film's cast members.
To
coincide with the release of its remake, Paramount also released
the original Stepford Wives on DVD. The Paramount disc includes
the same widescreen print and special features as the Anchor Bay
special edition.
No
mater how you look at it, whether as a feminist diatribe or as a
misogynist manifesto, The Stepford Wives is a wacky and exploitative
thriller that will have modern viewers chuckling.
Being
the perfect Stepford wife… it's a good thing.
CCT
also recommends:
|
