The comedy/drama Steel Magnolias, one of 1989s biggest crowd-pleasers, follows a group of women in northwest Louisiana who congregate around a beauty parlor where they gossip, joke, and derive strength from each other. Based on the successful play by Robert Harling, this film version directed by Herbert Ross (Goodbye, Mr. Chips, Play It Again Sam, Pennies From Heaven, Footloose, and many screen adaptations of Neil Simon plays) is the kind of schmaltzy pop entertainment that is sometimes elevated by a great ensemble cast. Such is the case here, where a cavalcade of heavy-hitting actresses works harmoniously together in a successful attempt to NOT upstage each other. Thus, what could have ended up as a mere campy delight is rendered as a heartily agreeable excuse to watch some major talent on-screen together indulging in hilarious one-liners and well-earned heartstring-tugging.
The film falls firmly within the confines of the dubious “illness
drama” genre, as the narrative is structured around the youngest of these
women, Shelby (Julia Roberts), a carefree southern belle who doesn’t take her type
1 diabetes seriously enough. The story begins with Shelby’s mother M'Lynn
(Sally Field) preparing for her daughter's wedding, and it ends with M'Lynn
dealing with the consequences of Shelby’s decision to have a child despite doctors
warnings that pregnancy could put her life at risk. Field gives one of her finest
performances in Steel Magnolias, embodying
a role that many actresses (including Field at other points in her career)
could have easily overplayed. The calm, controlled fashion in which Field’s M'Lynn
conducts herself is entirely correct for the character and it sets the tone for
the rest of the cast, many of whom play familiar types that could easily be
exaggerated into caricatures. Of course, Harling’s screenplay—which he adapted
from his play in a rare case of stage-bound material feeling effortlessly
recreated for the screen without diminishing what made the play special—smartly
avoids overt melodrama and saccharine sentimentalism.
I’m sure Ross is due much credit for establishing and maintaining a consistent
tone throughout the picture and unifying each member of his headstrong cast. When
we look at female-driven ensemble pictures in the vein of this one—everything
from The Women (1939) to The Help (2011)—there is often a level
of competition in the performances that the filmmakers seem to be encouraging.
Such is never the case here. Each actress has several scenes in which they
individually shine, but they work all the better when they’re together. Some of the roles,
especially the frumpy, grouchy old Louisa "Ouiser" Boudreaux practically
beg to be overplayed. And with Shirley McLaine in this part, it could have gone
that way. But McLaine, like Field, plays her character as a real woman not a mere
comical stereotype. As Ouiser’s friend and verbal fencing partner, Clairee Belcher
the wealthy widow of the former mayor, Olympia Dukakis gets her most delightful
film role since Moonstruck. And as Truvy
Jones, the proprietor of the Beauty Salon, we’re treated to Dolly Parton in a role
that’s probably the closest to the real Dolly we’ve ever seen on screen—warm,
funny, humble, and deeply kind.
The weakest link in the picture is Julia Roberts, who never turns Shelby into a
fully realized woman in her own right. We mainly experience Shelby in relation
to her mother, which isn’t the movie’s intention as it provides her scenes with
many of the other characters including her husband-to-be, played blandly by Dylan
McDermott. In the previous year’s Mystic
Pizza, Roberts created a richly textured character from a part written as a
bit of a cliché, so it’s unfortunate that she can’t do the same here with a
potentially more distinctive role. But she doesn’t really hurt the film any
more than it hurt her—indeed Roberts won a Golden Globe for Steel Magnolias and
was nominated for the Best Supporting Actress Oscar paving the way for her
launch into superstardom in the following year’s surprise runaway hit, Pretty
Woman.