9 to 5: Blu-ray (2oth Century-Fox, 1980) Twilight Time
Watershed comedies are rare. Most forego tact for a
variation on the more tasteless and easily marketable ‘go for the crotch’
thirty-second chuckle that has all but permeated and utterly destroyed the
reputation of aspiring movie rom-coms and made a virtual mockery of every
television sit-com since the mid-1990’s.
But back in 1980, at least one comedy prevailed on a loftier plain. The
trick and the majesty of director, Colin Higgins’ 9 to 5 is its premise
has not dated all that much since, the ole boy’s club mentality still in play
in boardrooms and the great divide between those toiling in the steno pool and
those toting keys to the executive washroom perhaps even more transparent and
embarrassing (given how far we have come in the struggles for gender equality
elsewhere). Thus, while clothing and hairstyles that were sooooo eighties then,
now appear laughably bad, the cringe-worthy, if sublime, sexist treatment
encountered by three aspiring hopefuls in this proto-feminist ‘coming of age’
farce has not; a sad, or perhaps, merely anti-PC stance, making 9 to 5
as invigorating, potently subversive and relevant as the day it first played.
It is, I think, important to note the picture is not without its progressive
flaws. Dabney Coleman’s Franklin M. Hart Jr. is about as crude, cruel and
clichéd as they come in a post-Steinem America. In retrospect, and actually, in
relief, Coleman’s clod, dragging his knuckles on the Linoleum like a Neanderthal
is clearly meant to infer that every man in a three-piece, sitting atop the
corporate structure, is no better than this egotistical and oversexed piglet.
Oink! Oink, indeed. But let us not cast such aspersions on half the population,
shall we?
“It’s best not to be too moral,” Colin Higgins
once pointed out, “You cheat yourself out of too much life. Aim above
morality.” Yet, 9 to 5’s great faux pas remains, that while it
represents a diverse microcosm of nose to the grindstone-motivated women in the
work force, more than capable of competing with their male counterparts (though
rarely given the opportunity to rise above male-ascribed virtues as precious
eye-candy), what with the uber-liberal, Jane Fonda calling the shots initiated
for her own production company, and much later, to be fleshed out by
screenwriters, Higgins and Patricia Resnick (Resnick’s story heavily rewritten
by Higgins, then reshaped during shooting by Fonda’s input), the male
perspective here is virtually obscured, or rather skewed by a tsunami of more
rabid feminist principles, unequivocally to mark all white men as ‘the
oppressors’. 9 to 5 is a comedy
about women – not men – so, it really does not owe any favors to the bow tie
and brown shoes. And, further still, it is a comedy straddling the chasm
between the brutally bad and sophomoric ‘T’ and ‘A’ laugh-fests that dominated
the 1970’s, and the soon to be even more crassly realized, if slightly
retrofitted, 80’s screwball. It also has an important message to impart about
woman partaking in this usually never-to-be shared slice of the proverbial
American pie, and, being acknowledged for their efforts.
And with the likes of Jane Fonda (a.k.a Judy Bernly),
Dolly Parton (Doralee Rhodes) and Lily Tomlin (Violet Newstead) sounding the
call for a triangulated attack on the business acumen inculcated by the dreaded
‘patriarchy’, 9 to 5 cannot help but be of good – if moderately sadistic
- cheer and some devilish satisfaction to a certain ‘type’ of woman who would
never dare perpetuate this sort of fraud in her place of employment but is
permitted the vicariousness of behaving as no self-respecting woman in her
right mind would. Smack dab in the middle of 9 to 5 we get three
hallucinogenic ‘dream sequences’ as the ladies in question, after sharing a
joint, fantasize particularly well-crafted, if wholly implausible and utterly
absurd revenge scenarios to bring about Hart’s downfall. Judy sees herself as ‘the
great white hunter’, playing to Hart’s predilection for good sport (she
pursues him with a double-gauge shotgun and eventually has his head mounted on her
wall as a trophy). Hart gets chased around the office by pitchfork and
torch-bearing colleagues – male and female – vaguely reminiscent of the angry
townsfolk in pursuit of the monster at the end of Universal’s classic Frankenstein
(1931). In the second of these ‘dreams’ we get Doralee’s reverse sexism as a
horse-riding, rhinestone and sequined cowgirl who belittles Hart (her male
secretary) with juicy comments about his ‘package’ and choice of cologne – Stud,
ordering him to submit to her sexual advances, then lassoing the unwilling
participant and mounting his hog-tied bod to a barbeque spit. Violet’s fantasy
recasts her as sort of ‘Snow White-ish’ Marquis de Sade, poisoning
Hart’s coffee before using his comfy desk chair to eject him from the twelfth
story window of his office as a pack of friendly and furry cartoon animals
culled from the Disney Studios exuberantly look on.
In and of themselves, these dream sequences are funny.
But they also suffer from a reverse sexism that the ladies have been subjected
to - the ‘good for the goose and gander’ feminist outlay mercilessly to
transform the oppressed into the oppressors. Personally, I find it one of the
absurdities today that the ‘straight, white male’ has continued to be the
favorite whipping post for every underprivileged minority seeking ignoble
satisfaction by laying their fears and blame squarely at the feet of men in
general – white European men in particular – first, as though they can be afforded
the root cause for every ill of humanity since the beginning of time, and
second, while even more ridiculously suggesting no developmental strides have
occurred in the modern/civilized world they almost single-handedly shaped from
the blood, sweat and tears of centuries of evolution. All white men do not
think alike any more than all white women or all black men and all black women
have the same inherently pre-programmed core of values by which they seek to
reshape the world around them. And most certainly, all white men do not think
as Franklin M. Hart in this movie does. But hey, it’s only a movie and a comedy
at that – so, we tend to embrace the laughter (as – no kidding – it is sorely
needed these days). However, to celebrate 9 to 5 as a vindication of
women’s triumph in the workplace despite the ‘patriarchy’, ‘glass ceiling’…call
it what you will is a bit much. These buzz words have, in fact, supplanted
facts with feelings and reflect more of the eclipse than exposure of women’s ‘suffrage’.
So, the picture really does not have two good legs to stand on – high heels
optional; amusing – but silly – and, at least in spots, grotesque as an
exercise in deviant/militant ball-bashing.
Do not misunderstand: 9 to 5 is a hoot, a
champion ‘feel good’ and a crowd-pleaser. The ladies taking on the
establishment and winning, even to the point of getting Franklin Hart exiled to
Brazil, is hilarious. Despite star/producer, Jane Fonda’s claim of being “super-sensitive
to anything that smacks of the soapbox or lecturing the audience”, 9 to
5 is very much a ‘message picture’, arguably in the best tradition,
illustrating, as Fonda had hoped, that while a successful office can frequently
be managed without a boss, it cannot find its way, even to the executive water
closet without the efforts of a good secretary (an army of them heartily
preferred). However, the screenplay does
overlook the transparency in this exercise. The ladies rule jointly – even
benevolently – over an office full of estrogen-infused front liners, seemingly
without any interference or inner-office jealousies and quarreling. Oh, now
who’s fantasizing?!? Having absconded with Hart to his Tudor country house,
forcibly placed under ‘house arrest’ in dog-collar and wrist restraints,
the proverbial ‘fly’ in the girls’ ointment becomes one of their own – Roz
Keith (Elizabeth Wilson) - the mannish Hart’s spy who, because of her obvious
lack of physical attraction, ironically makes her perfect to betray her own sex
as a lap dog for her boss. Herein, another of the movie’s defective logic gets
revealed - namely, only a woman lacking sex appeal or one sacrificing
everything to blindly stand by her man, as in Hart’s trophy wife, Missy (Marian
Mercer) could find Franklin Hart appealing.
9 to 5 opens with a
montage of working women starting their day, precursory scenes from the deluge,
teeming with ambivalence and missed opportunities - annoying alarm clocks with
their snooze buttons repeatedly smacked down, late taxis, pain-inducing
high-heeled shoes, no time for a proper breakfast, spilled coffee, etc. et al.
We get all this from the female perspective, set to Dolly Parton’s eponymous
chart-topping hit single, completely forgoing the fact men are preparing for
their day going through a similarly ritualized set of trials and tribulations –
at the top, the bottom, and in all points between. Keener eyes will take notice while virtually
all of the main title montage is shot in San Francisco, the rest of the movie,
minus the sequences shot at Hart’s home in Bel Air, takes place in Los Angeles.
We are introduced to Judy Bernly – a homebody, so out of touch since her hubby
(aptly named ‘Dick’ and played by timid and tedious, Lawrence Pressman) left
her for his secretary, she dresses as though it were still the 1940’s. Judy’s
impressions of ‘the working woman’ are about to be tested as she arrives for
her first day’s trial by fire at Consolidated Inc. Aspiring power broker/Senior
Office Supervisor, Violet Newstead is Judy’s first contact within this
hierarchy. Violet is a no-nonsense, shoot-from-the-hip, clear-eyed ‘trainer’
who has seen her male apprentices blessed by corporate advancement while she is
repeatedly held back, bitter but hopeful for the crumbs Hart may or may not
choose to scatter in her direction. Judy also meets Hart’s executive assistant,
Roz Keith and his private secretary, Doralee Rhodes, the latter a buxom,
vivacious and good-natured southern gal whom the rest of the office erroneously
despises because they suspect she is having an affair with Hart. Somewhere in
the backdrop is Peggy Pope (as office lush, Margaret Foster), Roxanna
Bonilla-Giannini (the stereotyped Hispanic single mother, Maria Delgado) and
Ray Vitte (the token marginalized black man/mail room clerk, Eddie Smith).
Typical of 80’s film fare, poor Eddie makes his point about being unable to
climb the corporate ladder into the steno pool (ironically, the cesspool from
whence Judy, Violet and Doralee all aspire to escape), never to be heard from
again. So, the patriarchy wears a bedsheet too?!?
Judy’s first impressions of Franklin Hart are mixed
with trepidation and eagerness, the latter quashed after Hart stumbles into the
Xerox room turned paper-wasting sand trap by Judy, whom he admonishes, then
threatens with expulsion even before she can punch her first timecard. Hart has
no compunction about firing Maria after Roz alerts him to an impromptu ‘conversation’
Maria had with several other women about pay scales and salaries in the ladies’
room. While Margaret, only half revived
from her chronic drunken stupors, is content to let the other women take the
lead in their mounting grievances, Doralee endures Hart’s notorious and piggish
amusements behind closed doors, knocking a pencil holder on the floor during
dictation merely to have a good stare down her ample cleavage. Forewarned by
rumors Doralee is sleeping with the boss, Judy assumes the worst and initially
adopts a rather priggish attitude toward her, repeatedly rejecting Doralee’s
kind invitations to luncheon. Missy Hart is oblivious to her husband’s
ill-conceived false starts at an inner-office affair. Hart orders Violet to do
some shopping for a present for Missy on her lunch hour, then, gives the
present – a silk scarf – to Doralee instead. This causes Violet to fly into a
rage, especially after she learns from Hart, she is being passed over yet again
for another promotion in favor of a much less experienced male colleague.
Threatening Hart with exposure of his philandering,
Doralee inadvertently realizes why the other women in the organization do not
like her - because they assume she is Hart’s slutty mistress. Meeting in an
afterhours bar, Doralee, Judy and Violet drown their sorrows in some cheap
booze. Remembering she has a joint given by her teenage son, Violet invites
Doralee and Judy back to her place for a ‘girl’s night. Under the sway of its
psychotropic after effects, each muses a particular delicious revenge. Judy sees
herself as the hunter who has Hart’s head mounted on her trophy wall. Doralee,
hog-ties a reluctant and impish Hart after he refuses to accept her sexual
advances. Violet imagines herself a sadistic fairy-tale princess, spiking
Hart’s coffee with rat poison, before ejecting him through an open window,
presumably, to his death. In the aftermath of this cherished respite, Violet
commits a near-fatal sin. Asked by Hart to buy more of the sugar substitute, Skinny
n’ Sweet to liven his coffee, she instead, and quite inadvertently, tinges
Hart’s coffee with rat poison (the two boxes virtually identical in color and
packaging). Violet leaves the coffee on
Hart’s desk and returns to work.
As Hart reaches for the tainted drink his office chair
malfunctions, sending him sailing backwards, knocking the coffee over and
knocking himself unconscious on the credenza.
Doralee discovers ‘the body’ and has Hart rushed to the hospital.
Meanwhile, realizing her mistake, Violet assumes Hart’s collapse is the result
of the poison. Telling Judy about the accident, the two hurriedly arrive at the
hospital. In a hilarious case of mistaken identity, a mob informant
simultaneously brought in after being poisoned for real, dies. Hart awakens on
a gurney and refuses medical treatment for what amounts to a slight bump on his
noggin. He goes home undetected. However, a few moments later, Violet, Judy and
Doralee overhear the doctor inform a waiting police officer that ‘the man
they just brought in’ has died. Assuming the worst, Violet plots to keep
her ‘murder’ a secret. She masquerades as a doctor and absconds with the
corpse, stuffing it into the trunk of her car. With Doralee and Judy’s
complicity, the trio drives to a remote location where the plan is to weigh
down the body with cement and toss it into the bay. However, in her zeal to
elude the police, Violet has driven into a dumpster, ruining the fender of her
car. In reaching for the crowbar in the trunk, Doralee makes the fateful
discovery. The man in the trunk is not Hart. Sneaking the body back into the
hospital, left in a wheel chair in the washroom to be discovered by a pair of
orderlies, Judy, Violet and Doralee arrive at work the following day, jolted by
Hart’s matter-of-fact arrival - very much alive and more belligerent and sexist
than ever.
Confiding their great relief to one another while on
break in the ladies’ room, Judy, Violet and Doralee are quite unaware Roz is
hiding in one of the stalls, writing down their every word with eagerness.
Sharing this information with Hart, he decides to have his revenge on all three
by pressing formal charges, even though he is no worse for the wear from their
botched murder and cover-up. Doralee subdues Hart, hog-tying him as in her
fantasy and stuffing the scarf he gave her as a present into his mouth to keep
him quiet. After everyone else has gone home, the girls take Hart to his plush
estate, establishing a round-the-clock vigil to keep him quiet while Violet
scours the office looking for dirt on Hart to use as leverage. She quickly
discovers Hart has sold a lot of office furniture and other supplies kept in
Consolidated’s warehouse and pocketed the money. Alas, it will take the
corporate head office seven days to send over the full account of the missing
inventory. So, Hart will have to remain under lock and key. Violet, Judy and
Doralee concoct a makeshift restraining apparatus out of leather cuffs and
metal chain link, a garage door opener installed in the bedroom with just
enough tether to allow him the run of the room and the adjacent washroom.
Two problems arise…or rather - three: first, Roz,
constantly pressures Doralee to set up an appointment with Hart. After a few
false starts, Violet writes an action memo, presumably in Hart’s name (actually
signed by Doralee) sending Roz to France for a language emersion course.
Believing she is doing the boss’ bidding, Roz happily departs. Agreeing to
spend her nighttime hours at Hart’s residence, Judy is followed to the estate
by her ex, Dick. Problem #2: Dick
proposes he and Judy get back together. Judy is all set to forgive Dick, except
he becomes incensed upon discovering Hart dangling in his restraints from the
bedroom ceiling, assuming Judy is involved in some twisted S&M sex games.
The third problem occurs when Missy Hart returns home from her vacation several
days ahead of schedule, discovering Hart in his leather restraints. He covers
up, suggesting he is trying out some new age ‘exercise’ equipment. Missy is so
naïve she does, in fact, buy this explanation, even agreeing to go away on
another short trip for a few days, but only after helping Hart out of his
restraints. Inadvertently, Missy lets the proverbial ‘cat out of the bag’,
telephoning Doralee to thank her for the flowers Hart supposedly sent her, but
also revealing to Doralee she has freed her husband from his restraints and
thus ‘free’ to cover his tracks about the missing office furniture he sold for
personal profit. Sure enough, rushing back to the warehouse, Violet finds it
full of the supplies in question.
However, an unlikely reprieve develops when, upon
returning to work with Doralee, Violet and Judy held at gunpoint, Hart quickly
discovers a complete change come over the office. In his absence the women,
forging Hart’s signature on a barrage of action memos, have exploited his clout
to redecorate and rearrange everything to accommodate their needs – introducing
a flexible hours’ schedule, special needs and daycare program among the various
progressive reforms, office productivity has since risen by more than 36% in
just a little under six weeks. Such unprecedented growth is noted by the
company’s President, Mr. Hinkle (Henry Jones) who brings Consolidated’s greatly
feared Chairman, Russell Tinsworthy (Sterling Hayden) to meet ‘the man’
responsible for all these changes. Hart is initially terrified but quickly
realizes he can rely on Violet to remain silent about her complicity and help
explain all of the policies he knows absolutely nothing about to Tinsworthy. At
the end of their meeting, Tinsworthy informs Hart he is being relocated to
Consolidated’s brand new office in Brazil, a post seemingly of little value to
Hart, but thus forever ridding Violet, Doralee and Judy of his sexist overtures
- also, the threat of formal charges. As
Hart is carted off to discuss the future, the girls toast their newfound
success in his office with champagne. Roz, newly arrived from the airport, to
her horror discovers the balance of power has shifted. Could these be her last
days at Consolidated too?
9 to 5 is a charmer.
It also marked Dolly Parton’s debut in movies in a role she nearly turned down
and only agreed to do after it was contractually negotiated, she could also
write the movie’s title song. This became a mega hit for the country/western
star and something of an anthem for the working classes, garnering Oscar and
Grammy nominations, winning Best Country Song and Best Country Vocal
Performance, Female of the year. In an era, unaccustomed to such permutations
(singers were generally singers – period!), Parton is a natural on the screen
and easily steals the acting thunder right out from her more seasoned
contemporaries. Some years later, Parton would playfully muse, “I thought,
‘well…I’ll give it a try and if it’s a flop I can always blame the other two!” It is Dolly’s congeniality, coupled with her
plucky and homespun resolve that gets the job done. She is the perfect
counterbalance to the somewhat predictably more proficient Jane Fonda and
amusedly wicked Lily Tomlin. Reportedly, Fonda came up with the idea of using
both Tomlin and Parton in the picture after a single evening’s trolling for
talent in L.A. If so, it proved then, and has remained ever since, inspired
casting. There is a real camaraderie between these ladies who remain a joy to
watch in their interplay of dynamic personalities, plying their craft from
diametrically different points of know-how, nevertheless to come together in
unexpected ways.
We must not forget to honor Colin Higgins’ direction
here. Higgins, who left us much too soon in 1988 at the age of 47 due to
complications from AIDS, had already proven his mettle in Hollywood, writing
the poignant, Harold & Maude (1971); then, embracing the absolute
lunacy of a whacky whodunit with Foul Play (1978). 9 to 5 would
be a meteor in Higgins brief career, followed two years later by the as
ebullient musical with Dolly, The Best Little Whorehouse in Texas
(1982). The films he might have gone on to contribute to our canon of cinema
pleasures we will never know. But 9
to 5 remains a testament to Higgins proto-aptitudes for writing and
directing quality farce. In the movie’s epilogue we learn Violet was promoted
to Hart's job, Judy fell in love and married a representative from Xerox, and,
Doralee quit Consolidated to become a much beloved Country and Western singer. Hart’s
exile abroad resulted in his abduction by Amazons in the Brazilian jungle,
never to be heard from again. Herein, it is Higgins’ mechanics – as a supreme
constructionist of screen comedy - and his philosophizing on the dilemmas
facing women in the workforce that I sincerely admire - clear, concise and only
rarely relying on the prerequisite crudeness for which all 80’s comedies are
guilty, most, for no other reason but to divert the public from realizing they
do not have anything otherwise to say. 9 to 5, on the other hand, has a
great deal to offer the first-time viewer. The vivacity of its three stars, the
no-nonsense in its writing style that pulls many punches, some more
gender-specific than others, and all, readily connecting then as now, with
above-the-belt good humor – these criteria are always in fashion. Even if
hairstyles and clothing date, good writing is ageless. There is a lot of it on
tap in 9 to 5. Despite pseudo-feminist propaganda in its byproduct
‘message’ about the evil only some men do to get a little piece of action on
the side, 9 to 5 ultimately emerges as both a trendy and timeless piece
of entertainment. For anyone still struggling to find that ‘better life’ out
there in their work-related aspirations, 9 to 5 has it covered. Come on - “You think about it, don’t you?”
and “What a way to make a livin’!”
It’s odd, and frankly, a little insulting that such a
seminal comedy remains pretty much MIA on home video and in hi-def. I was never
entirely pleased with Twilight Time’s Blu-ray release from 2016. For starters,
a lot – if not all – of the image has dated rather badly with colors and
contrast fluctuating, and the latter occasionally to appear ever so slightly
boosted. Case in point: the girls’ marijuana party begins inside Violet’s
living room. The image slightly faded and bathed in a sort of sepia tint.
Contrast is passable, but the image is soft and slightly out of focus,
especially when the girls migrate over to the veranda. The first dream
sequence, featuring Fonda as the hunter, toggles between a sepia-tint and
desaturated muddy haze to render it almost B&W. The palette is muddy and
dull. The second dream sequence with Dolly’s Doralee is, I suspect, meant to
take advantage of a rustic, outdoorsy, southwestern palette. However, herein
the image is almost entirely graded in flat oranges. The final dream sequence,
Violet as Snow White, has the most robust and varied colors, alas, grotesquely compromised
by built-in dirt, grain and other artifacts built into the optical printing
used to combine live action with animation. All in all, there is no good reason
for these anomalies to have remained intact on Blu-ray – period!
Color balancing is also an issue. As example: Hart’s
crisp white dress shirt toggles from moment to moment between a bluish tint in
one shot and crisp white in the next. Flesh tones are never natural, adopting
either a pasty pink or orange hue. Grain structure is unusually heavy at times with
ever so slight digitization. At other moments, it looks fairly indigenous to
its source. Age-related artifacts sporadically crop up but do not distract.
Overall, ‘inconsistent’ is the word I would use to best describe image quality.
It is fairly obvious that Fox Home Video, then the custodians, did nothing to
advance the image quality from their 2005 ‘deluxe edition’ DVD. This one is
sourced from a severely flawed print master, not an original OCN. Personally, I
think it is high time an indie label like Criterion press Disney Inc. – the current
custodians of the Fox catalog, to release a newly remastered edition of this
culturally significant movie classic. Fox’s shortsightedness shows. This is
only a middling effort. The audio fares better in DTS 2.0 with Dolly Parton’s
hit single the only real benefactor in this otherwise dialogue-driven movie.
Apart from TT’s usual adherence to providing an isolated score, all the extras
are culled from the aforementioned DVD SE, and include audio commentaries and
featurettes too brief for a gold star comedy like this. Bottom line: if you can
still find copies of TT’s limited edition, they are selling for a mint from
private collectors, then 9 to 5 is definitely a comedy classic worth revisiting.
I cannot imagine why this one continues to remain in such a botched purgatory
of vintage 80’s fluff. It’s grandly amusing and deserves better than what is
here. Judge and buy accordingly!
FILM RATING (out of 5 – 5 being the
best)
4
VIDEO/AUDIO
2.5
EXTRAS
3.5
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