Working Girl (1988): The workplace comedy is a witty and charming exploration of women gaining power in 80s era Wall Street

Chad’s Grade: B+

As a director, Mike Nichols needs no introduction. On Broadway, he cut his teeth starring in a popular improv show with comedienne Elaine May, then segued into directing with the stage versions of Barefoot in the Park and The Odd Couple. But Hollywood came calling, and his filmography includes screen classics like Who’s Afraid of Virginia Wolf, The Graduate, Silkwood, and The Birdcage. While that’s an impressive list, my favorite Nichols film is still his most underrated—the 1988 workplace comedy Working Girl.

Nichols was one of those directors that could move between genres with ease, doing drama (Silkwood), satire (Primary Colors), and even horror (Wolf). In 1980, the comedy smash 9 to 5, starring Dolly Parton, Jane Fonda, and Lily Tomlin, kicked off a trend of workplace-set films set in the big business jungle of Reagan-era Wall Street. Much of 9 to 5’s DNA informs Kevin Wade’s sharp, witty script, and Nichols managed to elevate the material with his unique directorial flourishes. Working Girl also boasts an impressive cast featuring Melanie Griffith, Sigourney Weaver, Harrison Ford, and Joan Cusack, all giving career-best performances. 

Working Girl was Griffith’s first star vehicle and her breakthrough film. She’s perfectly cast as Tess McGill, an ambitious secretary trying to climb the corporate ladder of 80’s era Wall Street. But on her 30^th birthday, Tess has little to show for her hard work since her years of night school can’t compete with the Harvard and Princeton graduates. Griffith really shines during these early scenes, making Tess a relatable underdog you want to root for. As the daughter of screen legend Tippi Hedren, Griffith had inherited her mother’s sultry blonde looks and was eager to show Hollywood she was more than a pretty face. In what could’ve been an exaggerated performance, the actress smartly underplays Tess, giving her a shy, awkward nature.

Tess’s fortunes change when she is hired by Katherine Parker, a rising executive at a mergers and acquisitions firm. After their awkward introduction, the two women start to bond, and Katherine decides to mentor the struggling secretary by accepting her ideas and input. This is where Sigourney Weaver nearly steals the movie from Griffith. Anyone who only knows Weaver from the Alien franchise will be stunned by her comedic tour de force here. In Weaver’s hands, Katherine is a conniving, manipulative villain of a boss, delivering her smarmy dialogue with perfect cartoon lunacy.

The film shifts gears when Katherine goes on vacation and breaks her leg in a skiing accident, sidelining her in Germany for a month. She asks Tess to cover for her, including tending to Katherine’s luxurious townhouse. There she discovers that Katherine is about to steal one of her business ideas, involving Trask Industries buying a radio station as a way into the broadcast market. At the same time, she discovers her boyfriend, Mick, has been cheating on her. Frustrated by this turn of events, Tess decides to take matters into her own hands. 

It’s in this section where Joan Cusack, playing Tess’s best friend, Cynthia, gets the bulk of her screen time. You can sense Nichols’s improv background with Elaine May informing the scenes with Cusack, whose sassy wisecracks are the film’s funniest. She reluctantly helps her ambitious friend, cutting Tess’s wild blonde mane and giving her a professional makeover. And Cynthia tries to provide a reality check when Tess starts posing as an executive associate of Katherine, hoping to set up the Trask radio deal on her own.

Thankfully Tess’s makeover is underplayed, where the refined Griffith appears at a boring executive mixer. There she meets Jack Trainer, who’s smitten with this beautiful, new face in the crowd. It’s fun to see Harrison Ford take a break from his action franchises to do a comedy. He’s loose, charming, and a bit goofy as Jack, a burnt-out media executive who’s fallen into a slump. After Jack and Tess share a few drinks of tequila gold, we get the film’s iconic line, “I have a head for business and a body for sin. Is there anything wrong with that?” Griffith delivers the line with that perfect husky purr, and Ford’s stunned reaction is priceless.

Once Tess and Jack decide to work together to secure the Trask deal, Working Girl seamlessly transitions into romantic comedy territory. The film has a few screwball sequences that Nichols stages with comedic precision. Griffith and Ford make a potent comedic pair, highlighted when they crash Oren Trask’s daughter’s wedding to secure a sit-down meeting for their deal. Or when Cynthia poses as Tess’ secretary, gawking at the handsome Jack behind his back. It’s tightly edited and expertly paced, especially in the film’s final act when Katherine returns from her trip early and discovers Tess’s charade, throwing a wrench into the romantic hi-jinks.

Working Girl is the rare comedy where the laughs come from a well-written script and the actor’s performances. We live in an age where romantic comedy is on life support, replaced by the broad, gross-out slapstick found in Bridesmaids and Superbad. While I enjoy those fun movies, I miss the more sophisticated and subtle humor, where you laugh with the characters, not at them.

The film is also a fascinating snapshot of 1980s Wall Street culture through a female gaze. The movie’s release sparked a discussion of women working for women, as many female executives were starting to gain positions of power. And Working Girl explores this new dynamic in two bookend scenes. During Katherine’s first meeting with Tess, she slyly dresses her down and speaks to her like a school child. This nicely contrasts with the movie’s finale, where Tess tells her new assistant she has no expectations, preferring to “make it up as we go along.” 

It’s strange, but Working Girl feels like a footnote to Nichol’s legacy of films. Yet the picture was a huge hit, garnering six Oscar nominations, including Best Picture and Best Director, along with acting nods for Griffith, Weaver, and Cusack. The movie inspired a brief 1990 TV series with a young Sandra Bullock playing Tess. And it’s even fallen victim to the dreaded Broadway musical treatment, as the show is in development with 80’s pop songstress Cyndi Lauper writing the score. No word on when Tess will be belting out “Let the River Run” to the rafters.