Alright, fellow tape travelers, let’s rewind to that glorious cusp between decades, 1990. Pop quiz: remember a movie called The Boyfriend School? Maybe? How about Don't Tell Her It's Me? Ah, yes. This charming, slightly goofy romantic comedy often flew under the radar, nestled perhaps between bigger hits on the video store shelf, but finding it felt like uncovering a quirky little secret. It’s a film that perfectly captures that early 90s optimism mixed with a healthy dose of Cyrano de Bergerac-inspired shenanigans, starring a nearly unrecognizable Steve Guttenberg.
### From Schlub to Stud (Sort Of)
The premise is pure, delightful high-concept fluff. Guttenberg plays Gus Kubicek, a sweet, overweight, and perpetually recovering cartoonist who’s just beaten Hodgkin's disease. His overbearing but well-meaning romance novelist sister, Lizzie (Shelley Long, deploying her signature brand of controlled comedic chaos), decides Gus needs a serious life overhaul to snag the girl of his dreams, the sharp, independent journalist Emily Pear (Jami Gertz). Gus is smitten, but Emily, initially, is… not. Lizzie, drawing on the dubious wisdom gleaned from writing steamy paperbacks, hatches a plan: transform Gus into a rugged, leather-clad biker from New Zealand named Lobo Marunga. Yes, really.
Based on the novel "The Boyfriend School" by Sarah Bird (who also penned the screenplay), the film leans heavily into the transformation trope. And let’s be honest, seeing the usually clean-cut Guttenberg, fresh off Police Academy sequels and Three Men and a Baby (1987), buried under pounds of prosthetic makeup, a truly unfortunate wig, and later squeezed into tight leather pants trying to pull off a Kiwi accent… well, it’s something. It’s hard not to chuckle, but Guttenberg sells Gus’s inherent sweetness beneath the awkward facade. Retro Fun Fact: The extensive makeup effects to make Guttenberg initially appear heavier and unwell, and then later the 'Lobo' persona, were quite the undertaking, designed to make the contrast as stark (and comedic) as possible.
### Sister Act and Southern Charm
While Guttenberg gamely tackles the dual role, it’s often Shelley Long who steals the show. As Lizzie, she’s a whirlwind of terrible advice delivered with utter conviction, manipulating situations with the finesse of a telenovela villainess, yet somehow remaining sympathetic. Her comic timing, honed on Cheers, is razor-sharp, providing many of the film's genuine laughs. Jami Gertz, who was becoming a familiar face after films like The Lost Boys (1987) and Less Than Zero (1987), brings warmth and intelligence to Emily, making her more than just the object of Gus's affections. You believe she's smart enough to see through the charade eventually, but also charmed enough by 'Lobo's' hidden vulnerability (which is, of course, Gus's real personality peeking through).
Filmed primarily in the picturesque Charleston, South Carolina, the movie boasts a certain gentle, sun-dappled charm that feels very specific to late 80s/early 90s romantic comedies. Director Malcolm Mowbray, who previously helmed the distinctly British and wonderfully quirky A Private Function (1984), brings a slightly off-kilter sensibility to the proceedings. It doesn't always gel perfectly – sometimes the tone veers towards sitcom territory – but there’s an undeniable earnestness that carries it through. It never quite achieved major box office success and met with mixed reviews upon release, likely hampered by its title change and somewhat niche appeal, destined instead for frequent rotation on cable and the aforementioned video store back shelves.
### That Early 90s Vibe
Watching Don't Tell Her It's Me today is like opening a time capsule. The fashion! The hairstyles! The earnest belief in the power of a makeover to solve all romantic woes! It’s a film that doesn't traffic in cynicism. Even Lizzie’s meddling comes from a place of love, however misguided. There’s a gentleness to it, a lack of sharp edges that feels almost quaint now. The humor is derived from the situation and the characters' reactions, not from snark or pop culture riffs.
I distinctly remember renting this one, probably drawn in by the familiar faces on the cover, expecting a straightforward rom-com and getting something… slightly weirder, slightly sweeter. It wasn't laugh-a-minute, but it had heart. Seeing Guttenberg push himself so far physically for the role was genuinely surprising back then, long before digital transformations became commonplace. You saw the makeup, the padding, the sheer effort involved, and it added to the charm.
### The Verdict
Don't Tell Her It's Me (or The Boyfriend School, take your pick) is undeniably a product of its time. The central conceit is charmingly preposterous, and the execution occasionally dips into the saccharine. But thanks to winning performances, particularly from Shelley Long and a game Steve Guttenberg, and its inherent good nature, it remains a surprisingly enjoyable watch. It’s the kind of film that might have played on a slightly fuzzy CRT TV on a Saturday afternoon, leaving you with a warm, fuzzy feeling yourself.
Rating: 6.5 / 10 – The score reflects its undeniable charm, strong supporting cast, and nostalgic appeal, balanced against a sometimes silly plot and dated elements. It’s not a lost masterpiece, but it’s far more entertaining than its obscurity might suggest.
Final Thought: A quirky gem from the turn of the decade, proving that sometimes, even under layers of latex and a bad wig, a good heart (and Shelley Long) could still win the day on VHS.