Months of Meryl: Death Becomes Her (1992)
John and Matthew are watching every single live-action film starring Meryl Streep.
#19 —Madeline Ashton, a past-her-prime Hollywood actress who goes to great lengths to preserve her good looks.
MATTHEW: Meryl Streep and her good friend Goldie Hawn once came very close to riding off a cliff together. During the early 1990s, the pair had been in search of a dual-star vehicle to appear in and were initially in contention to play the titular roles in Thelma & Louise, along with one-time possibilities Jodie Foster, Frances McDormand, and Michelle Pfeiffer. Hawn and Streep actively courted Pathé Entertainment’s former C.E.O. Alan Ladd, Jr. for the parts and even tossed around ideas for a happier alternate ending. (Streep, who would have played Louise, wanted Thelma to live.) Eventually, Streep’s schedule got in the way, while Ladd deemed Hawn an iffy fit for the project, clearing the way for Geena Davis and Susan Sarandon to take on the most popular parts of their careers...
In my mind, Death Becomes Her, the movie that ultimately united these two powerhouses, has always lived in the shadow of the collaboration that could have been, even though I wouldn’t trade Davis and Sarandon for anyone. Bewilderingly enough, this project of ours has occasioned my first viewing of Zemeckis’ ghoulishly funny cult classic, a sturdy box-office performer but a critical flatliner that has since gone to become something close to a gay rite of passage, a Pride month staple with fans ranging from Kristin Chenoweth to (woof) Michael B. Jordan.
In Madeline Ashton, a desperate leading lady who lures away the oafish Dr. Ernest Menville (Bruce Willis) from her frumpy friend-cum-rival Helen Sharp (Hawn), Streep finds one of her most archly accessible character creations, an out-and-out villainess with withering one-liners and monstrous tendencies who sits at the very center of a major motion picture. This isn’t exactly Streep’s first time breaking bad, but it might be her first time doing so with the full support of all involved: her dizzy society gossip in Julia is much too pathetic to be an unequivocal villain, and while Woody Allen certainly hated her ice-veined lesbian in Manhattan, Streep at least endowed the character with some glimmers of humanity. She-Devil probably came the closest to turning pre-Death Becomes Her Streep into a full-bore antagonist, but even that film ultimately copped-out of embracing Mary Fisher as the true harridan it wanted, providing her with an out-of-nowhere feminist reinvention in its half-hearted finale.
I’m happy to discover Streep plays a primping prima donna with more delectable verve in Death Becomes Her than she managed to pull off in She-Devil. As in that film, Streep doesn’t hold back from extravagant stylization, but the effect here is far more cohesive. She plays Madeline to the hilt with a giddy but deceptively brittle meanness that makes this perpetually irked vixen into an irresistible screen creature of classical womanly grace yet lethal derangement, like a modern-day Margo Channing with the warped mindset of a Baby Jane Hudson. “My character… is very evil. And it’s not her own fault,” Streep said in an interview for the film. “She can’t help it… The world, and the way it is, forces her to behave the way she does. That’s my rationale.”
It’s certainly an unbridled thrill to see Streep supply her rangy talents to an audacious genre experiment that’s also a truly inspired body-horror comedy and a poison-pen industry parody… but does Death Becomes Her, and Streep herself, actually end up inviting too much disdain for this spitefully self-conscious figure, rather than the dopey men and larger, insidious industry that ingrains such feelings into women like Madeline in the first place? Is this just a priggish take on a movie whose blazing satirical streak I genuinely enjoyed? What did you make of Meryl and Madeline Ashton, actress, woman, star, and lover?
JOHN: Oh Ms. Ashton, where have you been? Death Becomes Her is probably the most exciting discovery of this series yet, a newfound object of my affection that I can’t explain not having seen until now. Madeline Ashton is undoubtedly one of Streep’s most challenging roles, an atypical feat of both emotional honesty and outsized physicality. At seven months, it’s still the longest shoot of her career, and the only one in which Streep’s performance relies heavily upon special effects. It’s as if Streep took note of all the criticisms waged against her — too serious, getting old, too intellectual, Miss Decorporealization — and doubled down on her virtuoustic capabilities, quelling any doubts that she could go big and guignol in a cutting-edge mainstream bid and still retain her signature knack for creating fully-dimensional portraits of complex women.
I can’t remember watching Streep have this much fun with a role as worthy of her abilities since… Karen Silkwood? In what is perhaps her most purely comedic performance, Streep’s ability to toss out one-liners is downright Olympian. From “Could you just not breathe?” to “Now a warning?!” to “A colagen buff? You might as well ask me to wash with soap and water” to her taunting extension of the word “flaccid,” Streep’s comedic abilities fully match her dramatic prowess. Madeline also takes Streep’s forte for transformation to new, never-before-seen heights, twists, and decapitations. Lifting herself up off the floor after tumbling down those stairs, walking backward, and looking down before exclaiming, “Ernest... my ass! I can see MY ASS!” is a seamless and hilarious feat of physical and special-effects-assisted acting, especially considering the grueling technological repetition such a scene necessitated in the early ‘90s.
If you reconsider Bruce Willis’ Dr. Melville as Death Becomes Her’s MacGuffin, and read Madeline and Helen’s unchecked pursuit of Ernest as a chiefly symbolic preoccupation, the case against the film’s misogynistic tendencies loses some potency. Though hyperbolic, Death Becomes Her is a self-aware parody that never feels cruel or contemptuous of its imperfect heroines, as She-Devil does. In her fabulous chapter on the film in her "Anatomy of an Actor" book, Karina Longworth notes, “The specter of a woman confronting her own objectification and struggling to live up to expectations is the antithesis of entertainment.” In exposing the strenuous labor and fabrication involved in creating the feminine ideal, the film’s grotesquery is purposefully off-putting. You can draw a direct line from Death Becomes Her to Feud: Bette and Joan, another saga of two aging actresses whose infighting doubles as critique and result of a misogynist system. Streep surely invites disdain for Hollywood’s obsession with youth and impossibly perfect female bodies, but never at the expense of her headstrong, though undoubtedly nefarious, Madeline, who is both product and synecdoche of her ignorant industry. There are chinks in Madeline’s siliconed armor, a justified sense of loneliness and exasperation that lends a sympathetic air to Streep’s performance, as when she confronts her young boy-toy and cries herself into a thunderstorm before arriving at the mansion of Lisle (Isabella Rossellini). There is compassion even in Streep’s most exaggerated movements, like when she watches her features rise and tighten after drinking the elixir, cooing “I’m… a… girl!” at her rejuvenated figure in the mirror, a moment both funny and tragic.
MATTHEW: Can I take a moment to just restate that, as if this movie wasn’t wonderful enough, Isabella Fucking Rossellini is in it and doing some delicious vamping as the age-defying socialite who provides Madeline and Helen with their immortal elixir?
I think you’re right that the film’s commentary about Hollywood’s misogyny is more intricately embedded within the narrative than it may outwardly appear, as opposed to Zemeckis and company actually peddling misogyny itself. So many of Madeline’s moments that you mention are evidence of this critical throughline in the film. But they also illustrate the ways in which Streep is able to temper her own performance to foreground these provocative points at certain stages and then just as capably subdue them for the sake of a scathingly good time. She isn’t necessarily parsing through fine-grained nuances of a character, but she still connects all the supplied notes of this vain, venal glamourpuss with imperious gusto and a brazen disregard for audience sympathy. I love that Streep practically decides to play her marital spats with Willis like Martha in a Brentwood production of Who’s Afraid of Virginia Woolf? She’s even more ingenious when paired with the women, whether tossing Rossellini at least a dozen different looks of narrow-eyed inquisition during their first meeting or gleefully indulging in such catty bad behavior with Hawn. The sight of these two intrepid leading ladies wrestling, shovels-in-hand, with aging, a quandary that all actresses in Hollywood — even these two — face, is a mind-blowing rarity. Hawn and Streep are such a gloriously one-upping pair that the film could have truly used more scenes devoted to these infectious and categorically-dissimilar screen icons.
Their relative lack of shared screen time is probably why we’ve seldom seen Streep return to projects of such technological sophistication. “My first, my last, my only,” Streep declared when asked about Death Becomes Her in an Entertainment Weekly profile in 2000. “I think it’s tedious. Whatever concentration you can apply to that kind of comedy is just shredded. You stand there like a piece of machinery — they should get machinery to do it. I loved how it turned out. But it’s not fun to act to a lampstand… It was like being at the dentist.” It’s hard to argue with Streep’s assertion that such computer-reliant performances dehumanize the acting process, but it’s also an (infrequent) pleasure to see Streep’s own mastery matched by a film of such astonishing ambition. The methods may have been monotonous, but the outcome is hard to dispute. Streep still comes out on top, giving zesty conviction to a hard-hearted starlet that she indelibly explodes from the inside-out.
So, we’re quite a long way from the likes of Joanna Kramer and Sophie Zawistowska. Do you see Death Becomes Her as part of a definitively different era not only in Streep’s career but in her performance style as well?
JOHN: You’ve sussed out a key distinction in Streep’s work in Death Becomes Her that I notice threaded throughout her subsequent films, her ability to both foreground and subdue rich ideas while also amusing her audience, giving the viewer a double dose of intellect and entertainment. Many of Streep’s films, from Death Becomes Her to The Bridges of Madison County, Adaptation to Hope Springs, lend themselves as equally to a satisfyingly good time as to a rich exploration of subjects pertinent to that audience category Hollywood tends to avoid like the plague: the middle-aged woman. Performance-wise, Death Becomes Her demonstrates Streep’s polished ability to match the tenor and scope of her films while simultaneously dipping into her own star persona. While this is not exactly a new side of Streep’s abilities, her charisma, presence, and generous spirit coalesce here like never before. Death Becomes Her, it must also be said, could be considered the forebear of some too broad, caricatured performances waiting for us down the line. But no matter; let us end in genuflection to Madeline Ashton and the ebulliently virtuosic performer who brought this diva to life, and death.
Reader Comments (35)
The movie is funny, the writing is sharp, but it's the chemistry between the three leads that gives it staying power. Career best work by Willis. A wheelhouse part for Hawn if there ever was one. And when my favorite Streep is Streep having fun, which is clearly evident. I even dig the campy effects, and if that's not intentional it's a great mistake.
And yeah, Isabella fucking Rossellini.
Wonderful article once again!
Love the Madeline Ashton creation so much.... has this reached cult character status yet?
No mention of the “I see me” musical intro? Just another example of Streep owning the screen from her first appearance.
To Jamie, Seattle's famous Rupaul's Drag Race superstars Ben De La Creme and winner Jinx Monsoon have recreated the movie as a musical that can be found on YouTube somewhere. It's wonderful.
Love it! What I would give to see the original cut with Tracey Ullman...
I really want to see the deleted scenes with Farrah Fawcett and Tracey Ullman!!!
I saw this in the theater, and, just as Bruce Willis opens the Coronor body door.... the power went out, but the audio continued. It was bizarre.
I love this movie. Top 10
I never understood the appeal for this film. Does this mean I'm not gay?
I loved the movie, and Meryl's song has become an anthem for all "Streepers".
I do think that the scenes with Isabella Rossellini are the highlight. Especially poignant considering her family background. I always figure that Ingrid Bergman and others of that film generation would have loved this film.
Your point about Streep's self awareness is interesting, I first noticed this quality in "Lemony Snickets" - I felt like she was have a great time sending up her own image. Mind you she loved doing that in "Defending your Life" last weeks choice.
Why do Gay people adopt some films that are unloved at the time and make them loved years later,is it boys in their bedrooms pretending.
"these are the moments that make life worth living" is perhaps my all-time favorite meryl line reading.
This is one of those movies where I can't imagine it not existing. It's so funny, and the pace is like a Road Runner cartoon. The entire Mad v. Hell dynamic is known to everyone from Aquaria to Stephen Colbert. It's hyperbolic and wildly entertaining. The "NOW a warning?!" line from Madeline to Rossellini, is priceless.
I have always loved this movie and agree that Streep was magnificent in it. I have seen it
again recently and it holds up very well. " I can't see my ass" still makes me howl!
Man - I remember watching a clip about it on Entertainment Tonight in '92 then going with my mum to see it when it reached Australia. I never understood why it didn't receive a makeup nomination (it wouldn't beat Bram Stoker's Dracula but better than Hoffa!).
BLAH blah BLAH BLAH BLAH.
I remember seeing the trailer as boy and didn't quite get it until they showed the shot of Hawn emerging from the water with a giant hole in her torso and then barks," Look at me...I'm soaking wet!" And then I was immediately sold and HAD to see it.
It still holds up well. It's delicious how Meryl really leans into the irritating, aggressively mean aspects of the character and yet you still want to spend time with her.
Omg I can’t believe you thought you were qualified to write this series not having seen this performance! Lord almighty - I’m speechless.
This is my favourite Meryl performance bar none - so, so, so good!
I love this film. It's so hilarious. Especially the opening sequence where Meryl is trying to be this over-the-top performer and the audience just walk out in disgust. I thought it was really good. I would've been like "YEAH! ALL RIGHT!!!!!" The audience just didn't get it.
I also am SHOCKED neither of you had seen this before. Thank goodness you liked it. OR ELSE. ;)
This movie represents a huge bonding experience between my mother and I - while I technically get some of the criticisms about the movie's last act losing itself inside its escalatingly wacky action I do not care a whit. My mom and I used to rewind the final scene of them falling down the stairs and smashing apart and roll around on the couch laughing so hard we'd cry.
I love this movie and never got tired of watching it- a funny supernatural horror comedy- with spectacular production, costumes and Oscar worthy effects
"She's from Newark, for God's sake!"
"Yeah, and you're still alive!"
"And she was a BAAAAD ACTRESS!!!"
I still quote this movie, and "Postcards", every day.
Almost every week is the same thing. They say: We confess we haven't seen this movie before.
This lack of repertory on the very subject - let alone the poor writing or the tendency for fandom - make this column bizarre.
Why not invite people who really know Meryl Streep's career in the first place?
I love this movie so much. I am also shocked neither of you had seen it before.
My favorite sequence is maybe the elaborate fantasy about how to cover up the crime between Goldie Hawn and Bruce Willis, I know the series is about Meryl but honestly I think they're both just as strong as Meryl in this movie. Isabella, too.
Back story is Meryl kinda hate shooting scifi movies because of this movie. She even suggested Robert Zemeckis love technique more than actors which prompted Zemeckis to reply back to Meryl at one of his live interviews that every movie is special effects by itself in the first place or something like that. I have not yet read or seen this two compliment each other anywhere. As for the movie, "Now, a warning?" is my favorite quote.
Totally agree. I also love the scene with Sydney Pollack. Something else I have noticed with many of her movies is that the scores are so memorable as part of the story. I also know people that worked on effects for this film and they put a lot of great effort into it. Oscar was deserved.
PS, I definitely recall Streep praising Zemeckis. He used her line for the end of the movie, and let her improv a bit in dressing room scene.
Tom Ford - Thank you, I must have missed it.
markgordonuk: Surely straight people do that all the time too, e.g. Blade Runner and tonnes of other cult films. Nothing wrong with rediscovering a film and seeing in it things that people didn't see when it first came out.
This is my favorite Meryl Streep movie. All the actors are top notch. And the music is superb. I recall that it had a different ending and was changed. I do not remember what the original ending was.
This is a fun movie.
Isabella Rossellini is a delight, and Willis and Streep are also a lot of fun.
But the MVP is definitely Goldie Hawn, who always reduces me to helpless laughter in her "Does anyone have anything to say?" therapy scene. Her co-actors in that scene are right with her. That's a wonderful comedy skill, to be able to get the whole acting group on the same wave length.
This is definitely in my top 10 of my favorite movies. So much fun and so quotable. The whole Ensemble is worth Gold. I'd give it to them if I could.
I still love She-Devil though, but this is of course on a much higher Level. A very deserving Oscar winner.
I really cant believe anybody who is a part of this site had not seen this movie. And it’s TWO people! And it’s not a gay thing, both women are huge, anybody gay or straight would love to watch it. Then add Willis and special effects and it’s a winning combo on paper. Is it that you’re too young? Lol. I bet that’s it.
Anyway, annoying rant aside, the film is wonderful. I love it, it was added to Netflix recently and loved it once again. There are many problems with it, sometimes I think it had editing issues, cut scenes, maybe the studio or producers interfered with it. But it’s good and it’s funny.
"First, we finish dinner" Nathaniel ;)
This is pure golden CAMP!!!
Whr is Meryl's Oscar nom??!!! lol
If this film had been set in the early 1960s the entire plot and narrative would have had the killer irony that's missing from the production. Embedding the lead characters at the tail end of Hollywood's golden era buys a suspension of disbelief about anti-ageing potions that sits beautifully in the age when Grand Guignol "hag-sploitation" was actually taking place, a la Baby Jane. Leading Ladies did seek lotions and potions from quacks the world over (just read any biog of Merle Oberon) in a secretive world that Death Becomes Her could have unearthed right in Hollywood. Tim Burton would have masterfully pulled it off that way. In my alternate universe, Madeline and Helen would still go to Ernest's funeral, but another character whispers "I didn't think either of those ladies was still alive"; and here is the part of Death Becomes Her that - in my universe at least - tilts at Thelma and Louise: Madeline and Helen refuse to bow out under the unofficial agreement around the use of the potion, and instead of cracking apart after falling down the stairs, through the end credits we see them continue to appear in pop culture snippets as parodies of themselves, like trashy magazine covers and Letterman interviews, right up to the 1980s... when they both "die" in some appropriately mythical way. Cut to Isabella Rossellini locking them up in her Hollywood mansion and throwing away the key.
Is there video of that somewhere? Sounds like a rare object