Ladies First (And Second And Third And ...)

The first classic movie I saw when I moved to New York 11 years ago was the original version of The Women. It was fun, but I didn't think it was fabulous, nor did it cry out for the already-percolating remake. After more than a decade, that remake arrived last week.

For the record, I was the youngest person in the theater, and I think my 55-year-old mother also may have been on the youthful side of the audience.

Almost 60 years after Anita Loos uncollared the cattiness of The Women (based on a Clare Boothe Luce play), Murphy Brown creator Diane English brings a declawed remake to multiplexes. The basic framework remains: Banker’s wife Mary (Meg Ryan in the Norma Shearer role) learns her husband is cheating on her with a perfume girl at Saks (Eva Mendes, a poor Joan Crawford substitute). Instead of the 1930s biting and backstabbing, here Mary receives support from a flock of fellow femmes as she reclaims herself. Otherwise, we still see no men, not even among the extras on Fifth Avenue. While toned down, snarky comments remain, this time about looks and aging. (Meanwhile, we engage in our own plastic-surgery voyeurism.)

English may have moved the Ya-Ya Sisterhood to New York, yet she never explains how earth mother Edie (an exaggerated Debra Messing) and sassy lesbian author Alex (funny, underused Jada Pinkett Smith) fit with Mary and college pal Sylvie (Annette Bening). Perhaps as a result, English waters down Crystal Allen (Mendes) until she’s nothing more than a cubic zirconia sexpot, not someone to fear.

Then we arrive at the hypocritical fashion storyline. Mary’s preteen daughter has obvious body-image issues, calling herself “fat” when she’s slender, and already smokes. Magazine editor Sylvie tells Molly no one looks that glamorous, not even the models. Meanwhile, Mom becomes a clothing designer for stick-skinny women, and Molly thinks the whole scene rocks. In fact, it’s a breeding ground for her angst, but English long ago dropped this thread, unresolved.

In the midst of my griping comes the radiant, adult Annette Bening. She alone elevates The Women at least a half-grade. Her relatable character, a true lady, struggles with tradeoffs in a high-power career and nearly loses her friends for it. Sylvie thinks she’s non-maternal, yet the discussion about beauty and sex she and Molly share can come only from a place of love and warmth. “I’m the man I want to marry,” Sylvie says at one point. That's a positive, strong-female message to cheer.