Vice and Virtue: Death Becomes Her

Happy October, lovely lovely readers of the Bush School Rambler! For the first Vice and Virtue article of the school year, with Halloween (the best holiday) coming up, and (unfortunately) an upcoming Broadway musical, here is a review of the best movie possibly ever… (in the opinion of some)

Virtue 

A hole in the stomach has never been quite as chic as in Robert Zemeckis’ 1992 satire Death Becomes Her. The ghastly wound is the result of a petty fight between two women, seductress actress Madeleine Ashton (Meryl Streep) and celebrity writer Helen Sharp (Goldie Hawn), brawling over the love of undertaker/plastic surgeon Ernest Menville (Bruce Willis aka Die Hard man). The above-mentioned laceration was not fatal, however. Both Madeline and Helen are immortal, stuck in the bodies of their 20-something-year-old-selves, continuously ruining their bodies as their feud continues getting more and more out of hand. Hopefully, our school sports rivalries will never become this ghastly. After Madeline steals away Helen’s fiancé Ernest, Helen vouches to get her back. In the zany mind of Helen, the ultimate punishment for Madeline is, firstly, to take Ernest back; secondly, to murder Madeline; and thirdly (and most importantly), to be more beautiful than her by way of a magical purple potion. All three are extremely valid things to do for a man who messed up surgical procedures on alive people so badly he had to start operating on people who were already dead.

As you may have guessed from the opening paragraphs of this review, being over-the-top was not a concern in the making of this film. However, the lack of rumination on what is considered “realistic,” “clear,” or “serious,” is exactly what makes this film iconic; it’s delightfully campy and over the top. As long as you watch this movie expecting the same narrative quality as your middle school siblings' short story project, you can have a great time. 

Watching Death Becomes Her is like eating a piece of candy corn. It’s vaguely related to Halloween, (but let’s be real, you’d still consume it outside of October); it’s small, it’s tasteless, and it’s extremely colorful. The visual aspects of Death Becomes Her are so vibrant you might even mistake them for the new Bush School logo. The visuals of haunted castles (in LA), surprisingly good practical effects, and amazing costuming (the only jackets Madeline wears are sheer shawls) make this movie.

As the Los Angeles witch who has the power to make people immortal says, it’s a “touch of magic in a world obsessed with science.” As long as you take this movie for what it is–a very, very odd movie that’s a mix of satire, the haunted house themed venue two years ago, and Meryl Streep and Goldie Hawn having a lot of fun–then this movie is worth the watch. Also, a fun fact, although you don’t need any more convincing, is that Sabrina Carpenter’s new music video is inspired by this movie. 

Vice

Robert Zemeckis’s cult classic Death Becomes Her is an unconvincing, yawn-provoking movie about two women obsessed with looking young, as they try and win the love of cosmetic doctor Ernest. Both of them drink a glowing purple substance that keeps them youthful, but with a price. Death Becomes Her is full of flaws, plot holes, and is frankly a waste of time, undeserving of its iconic status.

First, the opening scene is blatantly offensive. Meryl Streep’s character, Madeline, puts on a delightful Broadway performance that the movie feebly tries to convince you is bad. I, however, find the creative choreography accompanied with thought-provoking lyrics (“I see me/I see me/Actress, woman, star and lover”) very poetic. The audience melodramatically dozes off or just walks out, but let’s be realistic: Who would do that at a Meryl Streep performance? Following this scene, Madeline looks wistfully into a mirror, and mutters, “Wrinkled, wrinkled, little star,” the movie’s second attempt at creating some outlandish imaginary flaws for her character. 

Shortly after, the movie switches focus to the other protagonist, Helen. She has recently had her fiancé Ernest (Bruce Willis) leave her for Madeline, who was previously her best friend. The writers attempt to degrade her character and show the tragic downfall of her life by emphasizing the state of her house: full of cats and books. First Meryl Streep, now this? Just like Bush with clapping during Open Forum, Death Becomes Her is relentlessly trying to make me disapprove of what I really just can’t! 

Although both women are successful, rich, and famous, their motivation throughout the film is to win the love of Ernest, a frankly boring man. I didn’t even recognize it was Bruce Willis because his character looks so generic. Both women are admirably brave for taking an unknown purple potion (I would be so scared), and skilled in their individual artistic pursuits. They are clearly complete, well-rounded characters, and deeply committed artists, who do not deserve their fate of being obsessed with Bruce Willis.

Save yourself the two hours of 90’s CGI, physically impossible wounds, and questionable outfits. Pay about as much attention to this movie as Bush students do school dance themes. Skip this one for your Halloween movie night and experience something truly terrifying, like the wrath of Bill Baber.