Alright, let's dust off a tape that practically radiated neon pink and synthesized pop right off the video store shelf. Remember grabbing that clamshell case, maybe slightly worn at the corners from countless rentals? We're talking about Mannequin (1987), a film that bottled a very specific, slightly ludicrous brand of 80s romantic fantasy and somehow made it sparkle. Forget gritty realism; this was pure, unadulterated wish-fulfillment set against the gleaming backdrop of a soon-to-be-saved department store.
When Fantasy Met Fitch
The premise alone feels like something dreamt up after a long shift folding sweaters: Jonathan Switcher (Andrew McCarthy), a perpetually fired artist with a penchant for perfection, pours his soul into creating the perfect mannequin. Lo and behold, she comes to life – but only for him! This magical mannequin, Emmy (Kim Cattrall), is actually an ancient Egyptian spirit finding her destiny in late-20th-century Philadelphia. Yes, really. It sounds utterly bonkers, and it is, but somehow, director Michael Gottlieb (who reportedly conceived the idea in a dream – fitting!) imbued it with just enough charm to make us buy into its delightful absurdity. A key part of that charm? The setting itself. Much of the film was shot inside the grand Wanamaker Building in Philadelphia (then a John Wanamaker store, previously Boscov's during filming, now Macy's Center City), giving those late-night store scenes a genuine sense of scale and, dare I say, magic. You could almost smell the perfume counters and polished floors through the slightly fuzzy tracking on your CRT TV.
More Than Just Plastic Perfection
Let's be honest, the film rests heavily on the shoulders of its leads. Andrew McCarthy, peak-Brat Pack era floppy hair and earnest confusion dialed up, sells Jonathan's bewildered affection beautifully. He was hot off Pretty in Pink (1986) and brought that relatable, slightly awkward charm that made him such an 80s staple. But the real revelation here, especially looking back, is Kim Cattrall as Emmy. Years before she'd conquer Manhattan as Samantha Jones, Cattrall had the tricky task of playing someone literally discovering the modern world (and shoulder pads) while also being impossibly glamorous and convincingly falling for our hapless hero. She manages to be funny, ethereal, and genuinely warm – a performance that elevates the sometimes paper-thin material considerably. Their chemistry feels sweet and surprisingly believable, considering one half of the couple spends most daylight hours as fiberglass. Remember how genuinely captivating those moments were when she'd suddenly freeze mid-gesture? Simple, effective movie magic before CGI smoothed everything over.
Scene Stealers After Closing Time
While McCarthy and Cattrall handle the romance, the supporting cast practically hijacks the movie every time they're on screen. Could anyone forget Meshach Taylor as Hollywood Montrose? His flamboyant window dresser, bursting with personality, killer one-liners ("Two things I love to do is fight and kiss boys!"), and outrageously fabulous outfits, became instantly iconic. Hollywood wasn't just comic relief; he was the film's vibrant, beating heart, a beacon of self-expression in the sometimes-stiff department store world. On the other end of the spectrum, you had James Spader absolutely relishing his role as the slimy, power-hungry executive Mr. Richards. Spader cornered the market on entitled yuppie antagonists in the 80s (see also: Pretty in Pink), and he’s deliciously hateable here. And let’s not forget G.W. Bailey as the perpetually exasperated security guard Captain Felix Maxwell, bringing his Police Academy (1984) energy to the retail battlefield, alongside his bulldog Rambo. Even Estelle Getty, just a couple of years into her beloved run on The Golden Girls, pops up as the store owner, Mrs. Timkin, adding another familiar, welcome face.
That Song, Though
You simply cannot talk about Mannequin without mentioning the music. The synth-pop score is pure 80s bliss, but the undisputed champion is Starship's "Nothing's Gonna Stop Us Now." Co-written by the legendary Diane Warren, the song wasn't just in the movie; it was the movie's anthem. It soared to number one on the Billboard charts, earned an Academy Award nomination for Best Original Song (it lost to "(I've Had) The Time of My Life" from Dirty Dancing – tough year!), and became permanently fused with the film's identity. Hearing those opening notes instantly transports you back, doesn't it? It perfectly captured the optimistic, slightly defiant spirit of Jonathan and Emmy's impossible romance.
From Philly with Love (and Box Office Bucks)
Critics at the time? Let's just say they weren't exactly charmed. Many dismissed it as silly fluff (Siskel & Ebert famously gave it two thumbs down). But audiences? They ate it up. Made for a relatively modest budget (around $7.9 million, about $21.5 million today), Mannequin became a surprise smash hit, pulling in over $42 million domestically (around $115 million adjusted for inflation). It tapped into that feel-good fantasy vein people were craving. It proved that sometimes, pure escapism and a killer theme song are exactly what viewers want, regardless of critical consensus. The film even spawned a sequel, Mannequin Two: On the Move (1991), though it failed to recapture the magic of the original.
***
VHS Heaven Rating: 7/10
Justification: While the plot is undeniably lightweight and some elements feel firmly planted in the 80s (the fashion!), Mannequin succeeds entirely on its charm offensive. Strong, likable performances from McCarthy and especially Cattrall, iconic scene-stealing by Taylor and Spader, a fantastic Philadelphia setting, and that powerhouse theme song combine to create something genuinely endearing. It's boosted by its surprise box office success against critical opinion and its status as a beloved slice of 80s romantic fantasy. It loses points for the sheer silliness sometimes overwhelming the plot and some dated aspects, but its heart is absolutely in the right place.
Final Take: Pure, unadulterated 80s comfort food cinema – a little cheesy, maybe not entirely logical, but guaranteed to leave you smiling (and with that song stuck in your head). It's a reminder that sometimes, movie magic doesn't need realism; it just needs charm, chemistry, and maybe a mannequin touched by ancient spirits.