‘Death Becomes Her’: Why Updating the Screwball Comedy Excludes the Men
Leyla Hamedi
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Screwball comedies of the 1950-60s always threw together a girl and guy who drove each other crazy and eventually ended up together because that’s the way of the world. Death Becomes Her does that too, except it kills the guy and allows the girl to end up with someone even better; her best friend. A very ‘90s sentiment from a very ‘90s take on a classic genre. And now, on the 31st anniversary of the film (though it would be too vain to admit as such), let’s take a deeper look at some of the rom-com/screwball genre tropes the horror comedy explores.
Directed by Robert Zemeckis, Death Becomes Her is the story of the strained relationship between two friends, Madeline and Helen, played by Meryl Streep and Goldie Hawn, respectively. After Madeline steals Helen’s fiancé Ernest (Bruce Willis), Helen ends up in a mental clinic and Madeline in a mansion trapped by memories of her former looks and career. Enter Isabella Rossellini as Lisle von Rhuman, a sort of wellness socialite influencer before they had a word for the position, with a potion to restore everyone’s vitality and give them eternal life. While immortality sounds delicious, it doesn’t look great when the besties can’t stop killing each other. As their bodies warp, so does their relationship with Ernest. They need him because, as a failed cosmetic surgeon, he is now the best mortician in town and the only one that can keep their looks intact with his heavy-duty chemicals. But Ernest also needs to be immortal because the lady’s shotgun explodes out stomach holes as easily as one can chip a non-gelled nail. Ernest is tempted but, alas, ultimately decides not to take the potion, and the women face eternity with each other and their decaying bodies. Dying young and leaving a beautiful corpse is not an option.
Death Becomes Her is the screwball comedy of its time because it celebrates aspects of the genre, combining comedy with slapstick and a love story, but then successfully subverts it by portraying not one but two female leads that overpower and outshine the male. And rather than devolving into a battle of the sexes where each side has to put up with the other and where ultimately the man is always exasperated by the woman’s antics but grudgingly agrees to fall in love with her despite her quirkiness, the women (now doubled) triumph. It’s Bringing Up Baby, and the leopard eats the man.
Modern romantic comedies also often take one vital aspect of old screwball comedies by creating an irascible female lead. However, this has somehow devolved into assigning her with the end-all supposedly charming character trait of clumsiness. Allegedly, one can’t help but fall in love with a near-sighted coquette who trips prettily but non-threateningly down a sweeping staircase. Helen and Madeline rise above this because even though they endure their fair share of farce, there is nothing cutely lovable about say, neck bones jutting out from Madeline’s throat after a slight misstep. Well, there is perhaps to some types but generally not a target mainstream audience. They do not fall over themselves because they are flustered by a man, no, if they see a grand, dramatic staircase that means someone’s getting shoved down it out of spite.
In fact, Death Becomes Her makes very sure that there is nothing beguiling about either of these women. Helen plots to murder Madeline for years, while Madeline steals her best friend’s fiancé and then proceeds to ruins his career. They have a shovel fight with beautiful clanging face shots. When one trips over a can and shatters her whole body, the other cackles like the best of hyenas. But what else are women great at? Talking out their issues and resolving everything with a good heart-to-heart after they’re done murdering. After all, there’s no solidarity like the one you’ll find among drunk strangers in a women’s bathroom at any random bar. They’ll help you bury the body as much as your lifelong friends will.
But while sometimes women’s friendships mean never having to say sorry for stomping on your windshield, screwball comedies always culminate in the man taming the woman in a way. That by having a personality, they are so off the rails that the man is doing them a favor by reining them in. Katharine Hepburn remarries the man who she eschewed in the first place in Philadelphia Story after his second time around machinations. Claudette Colbert is berated for her flighty ways the entire way through It Happened One Night. Even the ‘70s classic What’s Up Doc pairs the bubbling, incandescent Barbra Streisand with the stodgy Ryan O’Neal, whose entire role is to tell her what an inconvenience she is before locking her down. The man is always the sensible one that makes her compromise, so they can be together. Ernest is the most rational of the trio in Death Becomes Her. Bruce Willis is the ‘90s Clark Gable Cary Grant hybrid. He’s succeeded in locking both of the women down and for the worst reason; to bask in both their reflected lights. It’s not even true love in either case and the movie makes sure to pinpoint that. First, he’s with Helen, then Madeline when she’s a Broadway star, and he’s back on the way to Helen when she’s a bombshell bestselling author when the two women cross paths again. But while the women allow him to exact his influence the first time around, their stories do not end with him. Their end, and seeing as how they can never truly end this is also rather open to interpretation, is taming him to their needs with his skills and putting him in his place. After the initial catfights are done, they can move forward as best friends once more. It was never about becoming the perfect woman for Ernest anyway. It was metaphorically kicking in each other’s windshields to vent some feelings, and now they’re over it.
A love story naturally ends with one last look at the lovers, and Death Becomes Her does as well…with both women at Ernest’s funeral. He’s lived a full enough life it seems, after he left these women, which might seem to be the underlying message, but the thing is, it looks exceedingly normal and average as the pictures show, and Madeline and Helen don’t care. And neither should we. No one wants a story of settling for unmemorable and that is what Ernest dooms himself to. Meanwhile, the women put themselves first, and they are terrible, awful people but they’re also exciting and fun and the centers of their own worlds. They have learned no lessons and have not changed for anyone. Madeline and Helen are going to live, if not exactly happily, forever after and no man can claim that. Love stories don’t always have to be about romantic love, after all. Ask any woman or woman-identifying person. Men’s lifespans are shorter, and we all have plans for crone houses once they’re gone. So happy 31st birthday ladies. We won’t reveal your true ages.
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