Resuscitated of late even before Penny Marshall’s death on December 17th thanks to the joys of Instagram as the new Tumblr, a relic of a 70s commercial for Head & Shoulders has reminded us all just how much of a crime it was for a girl to be “homely” back in the day (whereas now, let’s be honest, it’s more celebrated than attractiveness). For “homely” was the precise word used to describe Marshall’s stand-in as the crew lit the set for the presently studied for its “irony” value commercial. That’s right, a crew member decided to label one of the stand-ins “Homely Girl” and the other “Pretty Girl.” “Pretty Girl,” naturally serving to represent Farrah Fawcett.
While it’s been said Farrah was oh so generous in crossing out the “homely” to read “plain” (as though that’s much more conciliatory), the description was likely already seared into Marshall’s brain for the duration of her acting career, this being her first appearance in a commercial.
Thus, to partake of the jibing dialogue manufactured between herself and her accustomed-to-getting-what-she-wants-because-of-how-she-looks roommate, could only add salt to the wound of the immediate pigeonholing of being the “ugly girl” typecast. Evidenced in Farrah’s cutting words regarding deigning to use Lucy’s (that’s Penny’s name in the fifty-nine second testament to how intricate a.k.a. full of complete sentences TV ads once were) presumably subpar shampoo, she inquires, “I know it really works against your dandruff, but what about my gorgeous hair?”
Lucy gives her the tag line breakdown, of course, as though she can’t believe she’s living with such a Daft Daisy of a roommate just to vaguely pay the rent, assuring her that it’s the shampoo that “hates your dandruff but loves your hair.” Farrah, “pretty”–read: gullible–girl that she is, therefore must vacuously sample the product with the errant “upselling” lines, “Well, smells okay. Some kind of lather, too!” Hence, if the pretty girl touts it, surely it must be viable shampoo. Even if it is a 2-in-1 product.
So it is that “Homely Girl” and “Pretty Girl” can coexist in the same bathroom space (thanks to Head & Shoulders…wink). And yet, it is Penny Marshall, in all her “plain” wisdom that parlayed a better, more longevity-driven career than Farrah ever would (affirming once more that you do have to have something going on other than “an aesthetic” later on in life). From the wise-cracking Laverne DeFazio on Laverne & Shirley (created, let’s be real, largely because big bro Garry Marshall made it happen as a spinoff from Happy Days) to the minor character of “The Master’s Wife” in Hocus Pocus (let us not get started on the continued suspect brother-sister dynamic between her and Garry as she played his spouse–perhaps more a statement on how all marriages turn “brother-sister” more than anything else), Marshall imbued any size role with her distinct brand of “tough-talking,” “bawdy broad” humor–the very kind that set her apart enough to be cast in the part of “Homely Girl.” Because if you’re going to be homely, Hollywood maintains, you’ve at least got to offer a little bit of kitsch as a substitute for your physical shortcomings. So it was that Marshall went on to carve out a noticeable place in the director’s chair for women, with Big marking the first instance of a female-directed film that grossed $100 million. And then, obviously, there was A League of Their Own, iconic not just for being one of the only palatable to the public movies Madonna has appeared in and having the greatest song ever about nostalgia on its soundtrack, but also featuring one of the most quoted lines of dialogue, “There’s no crying in baseball!,” delivered by Tom Hanks.
For Marshall to not “find herself in” but actually eke out an essentially nonexistent position of power for women in the film industry as an auteur–yes, auteur, motherfucker (particularly with that one-two punch of Jumpin’ Jack Flash and Big)–addresses one of the comments she gave toward the end of her life: “I led an oddly charmed life for someone who thought she was not a charming person.” It’s almost as though she could be directly referencing that initial Head & Shoulders commercial, deliberately smirking at her relegation to “Homely Girl.”
As Farrah finishes her shower and emerges looking typically, well, Farrah, she chirps, “Know what I think?” Irritatedly, Lucy guesses, “You think you look adorable?” Farrah giggles. “Not just that, I think your shampoo does a terrific, sexy number on my hair.” As if to say, “Wow, who knew this shampoo could work even better when you’re already attractive to begin with!”
Resigned to having converted her roommate to the product, Lucy demands, “Now you can buy the Head & Shoulders, we’re out.” To ineffectively play out the Laverne & Shirley back and forth (the characters still hadn’t been developed at that time, after all), she says, “Okay, can I borrow some money?” Silly hot girl trope, you ought to have been slightly less of a bitch–known that those who finish last can surprise you when they end up coming out on top. Then again, sometimes representatives of hot girl tropes can surprise you with their shrewdness (incidentally, Marshall did once make a cameo in that little known Jessica Simpson movie, Blond Ambition).
