working girl

i've missed talking about movies

After months of sporadic and part-time employment, I’ve returned to working full-time.

For my friends, it means if you want to see me, you’re seeing me on a Saturday. For my bank account, it means a steady paycheck. For my daily commute, it means taking three different trains and walking fifteen minutes from the subway. For my brain, it means envisioning myself as a “working girl.”

I wouldn’t consider myself the biggest fan of Mike Nichols’s 1988 romantic dramedy,¹ but parts of the film play on a loop in my mind. A clear product of post second-wave-feminism, Working Girl follows Tess McGill (Melanie Griffith), a young receptionist from Staten Island, as she fights to be taken seriously in the big leagues of corporate finance.

The film’s undeniably excellent opening sequence begins with a sweeping shot of the Statue of Liberty. Carly Simon belts Let the river run / Let all the dreamers wake the nation, as the camera takes us inside the Staten Island Ferry where Tess is celebrating her 30^th birthday with a single candle in a prepackaged Hostess Cup Cake. The scene paints a perfect, succinct picture of where Tess is starting. She’s a cog in the Wall Street machine, desperate to carve out a little more space for herself. We quickly learn she’s enrolled in night school and attends speech classes on her lunch breaks. She reads all kinds of magazines and newspapers to get ideas about the market and applies to fellowships. For all her efforts, the only reward Tess’s peers bestow on her are setups with lecherous businessmen who show her porn clips during supposed job interviews. Still, Tess pushes forward, knowing she can “do a job” as well if not better than any of her Harvard-educated male contemporaries.

Despite its strong start, Working Girl leaves something to be desired when it pits its two female leads against each other with a there-can-only-be-one-woman-at-the-top sort of mentality. Once Tess learns her new, seemingly supportive female boss, Katharine Parker (Sigourney Weaver), is planning to take credit for her idea, Tess resolves to get revenge. While Katharine is conveniently stuck in the hospital due to a skiing accident, Tess begins doing business under her name. She lives in Katharine’s apartment and wears her clothes in a storyline only Hollywood could make seem charming.²

It’s not the plot that’s the problem so much as Katharine’s lack of depth. Weaver’s performance is plenty of fun, but the character falls headfirst into the stereotype of the monstrous career woman. Furthermore, Katharine’s professional backstabbing and demeaning requests³ make her the biggest and baddest cartoon villain in a film that shows its protagonist being sexually harassed on a daily basis. The film also fails to offer any human explanation of why Katharine is so eager to hold onto her power at the expense of her secretary. 

There’s also the Jack Trainer of it all. If Katharine is the Lady Tremaine to Tess’s Cinderella, Trainer, a handsome power player at another firm played by Harrison Ford, is Prince Charming. Jack is both the key to Tess’s professional success and her romantic fulfillment. In their first conversation, Tess drunkenly introduces herself, by saying: “I have a head for business, and a bod for sin.”⁴ Roger Ebert responded to this quote in his review of the film by asking, “Will he ever take her seriously now?” Even though the answer is yes, anyone who’s ever worked in a corporate environment has to balk at the meet-cute. By the time Jack agrees to help Tess with her merger idea, he’s already woken up in bed next to her. He may grow to respect and admire her professional acumen, but his attraction to her defines their relationship and her eventual success at work. Notably, Tess’s two most dramatic professional scenes are sealed with a kiss from Jack.

While watching Working Girl it’s hard not to feel disheartened when the film slips into Jack’s perspective. Are we meant to admire Tess because we are her or because we find her attractive and likable? There are a handful of scenes that feature Melanie Griffith in lingerie or topless simply for the visual thrill. When Jack first sees Tess sitting alone at the bar, we stay with his perspective. She’s the object of his interest and lust, because, as he says, “You’re the first woman I’ve seen at one of these damn things that dresses like a woman, not like a woman thinks a man would dress if he was a woman.”⁵ Would Jack care about Tess’s intellect if he didn’t find her gorgeous and feminine? It’s a question the movie isn’t interested in answering, but one I can’t help asking.  

With all this said, why do the characters of Working Girl continue to rattle around in my brain? Why does the image of Melanie Griffith trudging through the crowded financial district come to mind on my daily commute? I don’t want to be sexualized by my superiors or sexualize myself in the workplace.⁶ My colleagues aren’t treating me with the disregard Tess faces. So far at my new job, I’ve been given respect, responsibility, and positive feedback. How come this film, which is one I like less than 9 to 5 or The Devil Wears Prada, has come to define how I think of myself as a “working girl”?

It must be more than the catchy title.

Let’s start with the obvious. At the risk of committing the prideful sin of comparing my appearance to Melanie Griffith’s, I’ll admit I share physical traits with Tess. We’re both white, blonde, and young. More than that, I love 80s fashion. I can’t help but fawn over Tess’s massive brown leather coat (pictured above) and the shoulder-padded blazers she sports for her big meetings. Tess’s high voice, big earrings, and bold eyeshadow all feel strikingly feminine, in a masculine environment. One of the first instructions Katharine gives Tess is to wear less jewelry and that her appearance should be “simple, elegant, impeccable.” What goes unspoken are the words “conventional” and “expensive.” The details of Tess’s wardrobe that separate her from the higher professional class she aspires to join are what make her more dynamic. She finds ways to visually express herself in an environment that’s designed for anything but.

The film would also be hollow without a career performance from Melanie Griffith. She adds humanity, charm, and relatability to the film’s title character. Griffith felt oversexualized and underestimated as a young actress, often defined by a famous mother (Tippi Hendren) and highly public marriage (to Don Johnson). Tess McGill was the role that finally allowed Griffith to break out of the box Hollywood had attributed to her. Through the combined efforts of Griffith’s performance and the film’s script, Tess is a deeply endearing underdog. She’s naïve but learns quickly. She is passionate about what she does and kind to those around her.⁷ Tess is not as ill-prepared as Andy Sachs (Anne Hathaway) in The Devil Wears Prada nor is she as single-minded as Jane Craig (Holly Hunter) in Broadcast News. Unlike the ladies of 9 to 5, Tess’s job is not merely a way of paying the rent. It’s a career. She’s a heroine for those who want to be taken seriously. To take themselves seriously. And maybe find time for love along the way.  

I’ve often turned to fictional characters to understand the phases of my life. During my first assistant job, I frequently thought about The Devil Wears Prada, not because my boss was a silver-haired nightmare in stilettos,⁸ but because I felt that clueless. When I got my first solo apartment, I thought constantly about The Mary Tyler Moore Show. I listened to “Love Is All Around” envisioning Mary Richard’s excitement in the pilot episode when she opens the door to her brand new studio. Before that, Insecure was my reference point when I was going through a rough patch with a close friend. I related to Molly, not Issa, during their fight in season four and was inspired by her wardrobe to buy my first pair of knee-high boots.

And we all know how I feel about Carrie Bradshaw…

These days, when I picture Tess on my commute, it’s not the plot of Working Girl that comes to mind. Jack Trainer and Katharine Parker are footnotes compared to the thirty-second scene when Tess does work on the Staten Island Ferry. Her desire to milk a little more time out of an exhausting, inconvenient commute is palpable to me. I think about all the details of Tess’s daily life. She enters an important meeting with a rubber band wrapped around her file folder because she doesn’t own a briefcase.⁹ She wears sneakers to work and switches into heels as soon as she arrives. Whether one views these hacks as crafty or sad depends on status. Still, for many of us, Tess’s fight to understand the unspoken rules of her chosen profession is an admirable, relatable one.

After a decade oversaturated with girlbosses, one might think I’d find a more recent workplace reference, yet I can’t think of one with Working Girl’s lasting imagery. Maybe it’s the distance from this decade and the problematic nature of this movie that make it so charming. In The Week, Monika Bartyzel writes, “Working Girl's great power does not rest in a strong and unwavering feminism… it thrives in its provocation of critique.”

The dichotomy between the film’s best and worst qualities is exemplified in its final act. Tess achieves recognition for her idea and victory over Katharine after Jack convinces their (male) client to hear how Tess came up with the merger idea. Tess’s romance with Jack plays an uncomfortably large role in her success, and Katharine is torn down a final time when her biggest client tells her to get her “boney ass” out of his sight. The gendered insult meant to make us cheer for Tess is more likely to induce cringing along with Tess and Jack kissing in front of their bosses and the entire office.

And yet… the next day, when Tess arrives for the first day of her new job, the film offers a sequence as touching as its opening scene on the Staten Island Ferry. Tess takes a seat at the cubicle outside an office only to be told the office she’s facing is hers. She’s no longer the secretary - she has her own assistant. In a moment that echoes Tess’s first interaction with Katharine, Tess’s new assistant asks what she expects. For the first time, Tess finds herself in a position of real power. She gets to determine how her office will be run. She gets to be the change she wants to see in the workplace.  

In Carrie Courogen’s thoughtful piece on Working Girl’s class politics, Courogen describes how the film’s opening and final shot mirror each other:

“As the camera pulls back, Tess grows smaller until she becomes a speck, just another anonymous office window in an anonymous office building in a city of millions. This city is full of Tesses—and Katharines and Cyns and Jacks—and they could be any one of those people whose office window you glance at. They could be me. They could be you.”

The symbol of the corner office was arguably more coveted in the Regan era before critiques of capitalism were being circulated by teenagers on TikTok. From its opening moments, Working Girl buys into the myth of the American Dream, which lately seems to be falling out of fashion. We all know the ladder of success holds traps and glass ceilings meant to keep people in the place they were born. Many of us don’t dream of a life of labor. Given the choice, we’d rather be pursuing our creative passions or having fun with friends as opposed to spending late nights at the office. Still, Tess’s victory holds emotional weight. Her labor paid off in a tangible achievement that belongs solely to her.

After all, most of us have to work. What’s the alternative? I have to pay rent. I need money for groceries, clothes, and paper towels. I need my job to pay for the expensive cat food my son has grown accustomed to. I suppose I could move to the woods or a commune somewhere if I really wanted to try another lifestyle. Too bad I don’t like bugs or roommates.

Until I come up with another idea, you’ll find me playing the working girl’s game.

Sources:

Bartyzel, Monika. “Girls on Film: The Complicated Legacy of Working Girl.” The Week, Future US, 8 Jan 2015.

Courogen, Carrie. “‘Do I Look Like I Don’t Belong Here?’: Working Girl and the Secrets of Class Politics.” Bright Wall/Dark Room, Bright Wall/Dark Room, May 2020.

Ebert, Roger. “Working Girl.” RogerEbert.com, Ebert Digital, 21 Dec 1988.

Watchlist For This Essay:

• Working Girl directed by Mike Nichols (1988)

• The Devil Wears Prada directed by David Frankel (2006)

• 9 to 5 directed by Colin Higgins (1980)

• Broadcast News directed by James L. Brooks (1987)

• The Mary Tyler Moore Show (1970-1977)

• Insecure (2016-2021)

Recommendations for This Era (That Have Nothing to Do with the Essay):

• Watching Tracy Chapman and Luke Combs's “Fast Car” performance from the 2024 Grammys¹⁰

  • I’m not exaggerating when I say I’ve been listening to this song five times a day minimum since I was reminded of its existence.

• How to Have Sex directed by Molly Manning Walker (2024)

• ¡Hola Papi!’s “I'm Terrified of Being Disliked”

  • John Paul Brammer’s substack is always brilliant, but I found this issue especially impactful.

• The Rise and Fall of a Midwest Princess by Chappell Roan

  • Let’s not dwell on how late I am to the Pink Pony Club. The important thing is that I’m here!

• The music video for “Casual” by Chappell Roan

• The New Yorker Thursday crossword

• Looking for a community garden in your neighborhood!

1. Although I do consider myself a fan of Mike Nichols.

2. Instead of weird and illegal.

3. Yes, awkward and personal requests are part of the job, but does Katharine really need her assistant to crawl around on the floor and lace up her ski boots?

4. Granted, she is drunk when she says it.

5. In Jack’s defense, his awkwardness when Tess passes out on him is so endearing. Harrison Ford does a great job in this scene that shows Jack is so clearly smitten and has no idea what to do now that the girl he likes is down for the count.

6. Obviously.

7. Aside from Katharine of course.

8. He couldn’t have been kinder.

9. Whatever writer or production designer is responsible for this detail is a genius.

10. For some cursed reason, this performance is not available on YouTube. It’s easier to find a clip of Taylor Swift reacting to them than the clip of the performance itself. If any of you find a better link please leave it in the comments!