In 1999, America was still riding high on the buzz of its prosperity, wrought in large part by Bill Clinton, whose personal scandals overshadowed many of his achievements by the end of the decade. So it was that a satire like Drop Dead Gorgeous, which incorporated the American tradition of wielding “Christian values” into viable motives for 1) committing egregious acts and 2) branding oneself as superior to another went perhaps more under the radar than it might have in the current climate. Except that it was destined to be made at a time when its prescience was not so appreciated, for no one else could have comprised the cast but Kirsten Dunst as Amber Atkins, Denise Richards as Becky Ann Leeman, Brittany Murphy (RIP) as Lisa Swenson, Ellen Barkin as Annette Atkins, Allison Janney as Loretta and, of course, Kirstie Alley as the faux mellifluous but underneath it all stone cold killer Gladys Leeman.
Written by Lona Williams, who grew up in Rosemount, Minnesota (hence the town’s name in the movie being Mount Rose) and herself competed in pageants throughout her youth before being crowned as runner up in America’s Junior Miss, the caustic tone of the script is so well-executed that, at times, one thinks it was a window into how solidified the U.S. would become in its nature twenty-one years on. With Minnesota being at the epicenter of a world movement this year, it seems fitting that it should be the sort of Anywhere, USA tableau of this particular movie, where the height of smalltown greatness is winning the American Teen Princess Pageant, sponsored by Sarah Rose Cosmetics. And yes, the competition is as sleazy as one would expect, immediately opening with an ad featuring “Adam West, TV’s Batman” in which he is surrounded by underage girls as he winkingly remarks to the potential contestants watching, “You might even meet a few celebrities.” Apart from the cringe-y pre-#MeToo factor, that America for the past thirty years has thrived on shilling D-rate celebrities as a reason to pursue something (in addition to maybe becoming one yourself) immediately sets up DDG’s prophetic projections on the trajectory of the nation as it entered the twenty-first century.
The pageant’s exclusionary propensities, not just on the expected racial front, but even with regard to what types of “American-made” fair-skinned girls would be considered “Teen Princess material,” extends to looking down on a white trash sort like Amber, who, in contrast to Becky, lives in a trailer with her mother, Annette. Told in the style of a mockumentary, the unseen documentarian asks Gladys, who runs the pageant, at the beginning if she thinks that most people wouldn’t say teen beauty competitions are a good idea. Gladys returns, “Oh yah-sure, I know what some of your big city, no bra wearin’, hairy-legged women’s libbers say: ‘Pageants are old- fashioned’ and, uh, and ‘demeaning’ to the girls.” Her right-hand woman, Iris (Mindy Sterling), chimes in to say as a non sequitur, “What’s sick is women dressin’ like men!” Gladys continues, “Uh… You betcha, Iris. Yah-I think yous boys’ll find that things are different here in Mount Rose… For one thing, y’know, we’re God fearin’ folk—every last one of us.” The same type of “God fearin’” folk who “fear” black people enough to pull guns out on them while they peacefully protest. Or apropos of pretty much nothing, as we’ve seen over the course of the past few months in various news headlines that feel pulled out of the 60s at the height of the civil rights protests.
While some are still trying to celebrate America as the “Land of the Free” this weekend, maybe even preferring the likes of more “pleasant” themed movies centered around the lie of the American dream and experience, like American Graffiti, A League of Their Own, Grease, Mr. Smith Goes to Washington and Yankee Doodle Dandee, those willing to admit to the country’s undeniable nadir will appreciate the manner in which Drop Dead Gorgeous comically details all that is fucked up about a place where looks and money are everything, and talent and intelligence are worth very little. Still, Amber does her best with the tools that “God” gave her, just trying to emulate her heroine, Diane Sawyer, who also competed in pageants before transcending into Amber’s favorite journalist, a career path our lead contestant would also like to pursue.
Apart from Lisa, whose talking head segments mainly feature her making reference to just how flamboyantly gay her brother is and that she would like to one day join him in New York, Amber seems to be the only one determined to make something of herself that involves fleeing from Mount Rose, where the highest achievement is getting on a sign for being the oldest living Lutheran (Frieda, dead for a while, but the shriners never took the sign down). Gladys making the theme of the year’s pageant “Proud to Be An American” at a time when Bill Clinton was still being impeached for lying under oath, extreme right-winger George W. Bush announced his bid for the presidency, Russell Henderson pled guilty to the kidnapping and felony murder of Matthew Shepard (killing him simply because he was gay) in Laramie, Wyoming and, oh, Columbine marking the beginning of an endless barrage of school shootings in the U.S. speaks to the blithe unawareness of Americans to the horrors that take place in their own backyard. Least of all to say their total lack of cognizance regarding anything happening outside their “jurisdiction” (which is why so many never saw coronavirus coming when it first appeared in China circa December).
Beyond covering the grotesque isolationist nature of the U.S. and its politics, the brandishing of guns (“Jesus loves winners” is inscribed on Becky’s own personal firearm) and Christianity as a justification for any and all behavior, Drop Dead Gorgeous also addresses the time-honored tradition of objectifying women so as to reiterate to them that their appearance is the only thing that will get them ahead in life (which, in turn, fortifies a conditioned subservience to men without even realizing it). That, and the clout of financial backing. This has been reinforced to Becky her entire life by both of her parents, though Gladys most especially. Likely the one responsible for coming up with the concept behind Becky’s “talent” in the show: singing “Can’t Take My Eyes Off You” (used for far better effect than what Heath Ledger did in 10 Things I Hate About You) as she dances with Jesus mounted to a cross (a scene, as Richards recently told, that prompted many extras who didn’t understand satire to walk off the set). After all, it panders perfectly to all of True America’s most deeply held ideals: Jesus was white, the Bible is the rationalization for everything (including, somehow, hating Jews, Muslims and black people) and utilizing Christian symbols doesn’t mean one actually needs to practice the tenets of the Bible—in fact, the symbols in and of themselves are enough to exempt one from doing anything “Christian.”
Let us also not forget that Becky dons the faces of Mount Rushmore with a cutout area for her own head during one of the competitions, the all too resonant image speaking to the tone deafness of a president who chooses to give a speech in front of said monument on the Fourth of July at the height of a pandemic as Native Americans protest against a white man once again unwantedly entering their territory, as well as the celebration of four white men (two of whom were slave owners) in the tradition of the American spirit of pillaging, looting and profiting off the backs of others who saw no fruits of their labor while the already wealthy reaped the benefits. If that’s not the U.S. and its religion of capitalism at its most manifest, then nothing is.
The eye-opening look at how the U.S. functions is further spotlighted when, at the end of the movie, after everything Amber has endured to get to the finals, she shows up to Sarah Rose Headquarters in Lincoln, Alabama with the rest of her fellow finalists only to see that the business has closed, permanently. The title card reads: “In its fiftieth year, Sarah Rose Cosmetics was seized by the IRS for tax evasion. The Sarah Rose Cosmetics American Teen Princess Pageant was cancelled…” Fucking classic, and completely in keeping with how everything in America is subject to the same inconsistency behind its veneer of “values” and “stalwartness.”
Amber’s chances of getting out of Mount Rose aren’t totally ruined, however, incidentally thanks to Gladys, who escapes from prison to shoot up a public place in retaliation for “everything.” Amber takes over the news anchor on the scene’s spot after the latter is clipped by a bullet, her calmness in a crisis landing her an on-air reporting job for a Twin Cities news station. As for the overarching feeling of the final scene being linked to the sentiment of being perpetually on a reality show of the police state, Hank, the mentally challenged brother of Harold, one of the pageant judges, keeps asking at one point, “Are we on Cops?” Despite the cancellation of that show this year, the question still holds more than ever as Fourth of July weekend in 2020 ramps up. With Drop Dead Gorgeous as one of the ultimate filmic insights into the distortions of the American perception of liberty and the pursuit of happiness.
