Okay, settle in, pop that tape in the VCR (you might need to adjust the tracking), because tonight we're diving into a deliciously excessive slice of late-80s revenge fantasy: 1989’s She-Devil. This wasn't some hidden gem you stumbled upon; chances are the video store had multiple copies, featuring that iconic image of Roseanne Barr smirking, practically daring you to witness the chaos she was about to unleash. It felt like a major event, didn't it? The biggest sitcom star on the planet taking her tell-it-like-it-is rage to the big screen, facing off against… Meryl Streep?! It was a casting matchup that sounded almost like a dare, and it delivered a viewing experience that’s pure, unadulterated 80s gold.
From Doormat to Demolisher
The setup is classic scorned-woman territory, elevated by its sheer, almost operatic commitment. Roseanne Barr plays Ruth Patchett, a frumpy, thoroughly unappreciated housewife and mother whose accountant husband, Bob (Ed Begley Jr., perfectly cast as the oblivious cad), leaves her for the glamorous, pink-obsessed romance novelist Mary Fisher (Meryl Streep). But Ruth isn't one for quiet weeping. Oh no. After Bob’s cruel parting shots about her appearance – listing her "assets" as nil – Ruth calmly makes her own list: Bob’s assets. Home, Family, Career, Freedom. Her mission? Systematically destroy every single one. It’s a premise that tapped right into a certain late-decade frustration, served with a hefty dose of wish fulfillment.
The Unlikely Comedy Duo
Let's be honest, the main draw here was the collision of worlds. Roseanne Barr, fresh off conquering television with Roseanne, was bringing her specific brand of working-class authenticity and volcanic anger. This was her feature film debut, a move heavily anticipated by her massive fanbase. While perhaps not as naturally cinematic as she was sitcom-perfect, Barr embodies Ruth's simmering resentment and eventual transformation with undeniable force. You believe her fury.
Then there's Meryl Streep. Known for her dramatic prowess and impeccable accents, seeing her dive headfirst into broad, physical comedy as Mary Fisher was a revelation. Streep doesn't just play a character; she constructs an elaborate, hilarious monument to vanity and shallow romanticism. Every breathy sigh, every flutter of her eyelashes, every perfectly coordinated pink outfit is a masterclass in comedic commitment. It's rumored Streep actively sought a comedic role to shake things up, and boy, did she deliver. She makes Mary ridiculous, certainly, but also oddly endearing in her cluelessness – a feat few could achieve. Watching these two polar opposites orbit each other, first indirectly and then face-to-face, is the film's unique, crackling engine.
Systematic Takedown, 80s Style
Directed by Susan Seidelman, who had already captured the vibrant, slightly chaotic energy of the 80s with Desperately Seeking Susan (1985), She-Devil leans into its premise with gusto. Ruth's revenge isn't subtle; it's gloriously unsubtle. She engineers the destruction of Bob's house (that explosion!), manipulates situations to alienate his children, frames him for embezzlement through her newfound employment agency catering to overlooked women, and ultimately lands him in jail. Each step is meticulously planned and executed with a grim satisfaction that’s hard not to root for, even as it skirts the edges of outright villainy.
It’s worth noting that the film significantly softens the edges of Fay Weldon’s much darker 1983 novel, The Life and Loves of a She-Devil. The book presented a far more misanthropic and cutting satire. The Hollywood adaptation, likely aiming for broader appeal leveraging Barr's star power, opts for a more straightforward, ultimately more upbeat revenge comedy. Some might find this a dilution, but it also makes the film a more accessible, cathartic watch – pure popcorn payback. Filmed largely on location in New York, the contrast between Ruth's drab suburban existence and Mary Fisher's ridiculously opulent Long Island mansion (actually parts of Hofstra University stood in for the exterior!) visually underscores the class and lifestyle clashes at the heart of the story.
A Time Capsule of Excess and Empowerment
Watching She-Devil now feels like opening a time capsule. The shoulder pads are enormous, the decorating choices are loud (so much pink!), and the very specific brand of late-80s feminism – focused on beating men at their own game, often through acquiring wealth and power – feels both dated and strangely resonant. The film didn't exactly set the box office on fire, earning back roughly its $16-20 million budget domestically, and critical reception was decidedly mixed. Some lauded Streep but found Barr stiff; others felt the tone wobbled. Yet, it found a solid life on VHS and cable, becoming something of a cult favorite, particularly among those who appreciated its unapologetic female rage, however cartoonishly presented. Adding to the texture is a score by Howard Shore, years before he'd become synonymous with Middle-earth – a subtle reminder of the talent involved behind the scenes.
The Verdict
Is She-Devil a perfect film? Not by a long shot. Barr’s performance feels more grounded in sitcom rhythms than cinematic ones at times, and the ending wraps things up perhaps a little too neatly compared to the glorious destruction that precedes it. But its charms are undeniable. Meryl Streep is giving an absolute comedic clinic, Susan Seidelman captures a specific moment in time with style, and the core revenge plot remains immensely satisfying on a primal level. It’s funny, it’s mean (in a fun way), and it’s overflowing with the kind of bold, unapologetic energy that defined so much of late-80s cinema.
Rating: 7/10
Justification: While Barr's transition to film isn't seamless and the adaptation softens the source material, Streep's phenomenal comedic performance, the audacious premise, and the sheer nostalgic delight of its late-80s aesthetic make it a thoroughly entertaining watch. It succeeds more often than it stumbles in its quest for vengeful laughs.
Final Take: She-Devil is pure, unadulterated VHS-era catharsis – a big, bold, slightly gaudy revenge anthem that still packs a satisfying punch. It's the kind of movie you rented when you needed to see the underdog bite back, hard, preferably while wearing shoulder pads.