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Year of the Month

9 to 5

What a way to make a movie.

One way 9 to 5 has aged magnificently is that it perfectly conveys that fact that having to work fucking sucks. I went into this film assuming it would be a gritty, realistic look at being a working woman in 1980, and while it’s something much sillier – more on that in a second – it is very much that in the first twenty minutes or so. One thing I’ve found when reading on women’s issues in the workplace is how much I recognize the basic exasperation of having to work, and that trying to empathize with women involves layering on the extra frustrations they have on top of what I’m familiar with. One of the things interesting about 9 to 5 is how it splits different issues across its three leads pretty evenly; Violet (Lily Tomlin) is very competent but finds the male villain Frank (Dabney Colman) both dismissing and stealing her ideas; one great storytelling note is that he was initially her underling but was promoted ahead of her.

Judy (Jane Fonda) is a new hire, thrown into the workplace as a result of her husband’s infidelity and divorce; she notes she’s been a homemaker for fifteen years, and she’s immediately treated with contempt and indifference, with little training and less respect as a person. Doralee (Dolly Parton) is perfectly competent – lacking Violet’s eye for imaginative policy but otherwise getting her job done without fuss – but is subject to assumptions about her sexual proclivities, beginning with the idea that she has any; not only does Frank harass her, people are assuming based on her looks that they’re already having an affair.

One way 9 to 5 has aged interestingly is that it almost has the structure of most Eighties Hollywood films. What I strongly associate with that time and place is a sense of structure that is almost stultifying; formulaic Save The Cat* variations on Joseph Campbell’s Hero’s Journey, where everything that happens is a piece in a longer, cliche story; a hero gets a tool they’ll use later, a villain does something dickish that will be part of their ironic comeuppance, etc.

*Okay, it’s a helpful illustration of the kind of writing I’m trying to convey here, so I’m not editing it out, but: that book came out in 2005?! What the hell. It feels like it’s embedded into the Hollywood mentality so perfectly that it must have been out decades longer than that.

9 to 5 manages to capture everything useful about that formulaic structure whilst being a lot messier than it implies. Its most Eighties element is effectively throwing us right into the story with the absolute minimum of backstory necessary; Judy’s newness is used to give us someone to exposit to, but otherwise we’re jumping right into the middle of these women’s lives and experiencing them with them. The movie, however, veers around in interesting ways; it takes nearly half the runtime to get to the ostensible premise because it uses the opening act to show the three leads coming together as friends, with Violet initially seeing Doralee as Frank’s mistress and only learning the truth through their adventures together. It means we come to care about their friendship because we’ve forged it alongside them.

This sneakily-slower opening act also – and this is really interesting – allows us to fully see Frank. Colman doesn’t overplay Frank or make him an easy villain; the writing conveys that more than effectively, and he simply commits to Frank’s emotions and blindspots. What becomes clear is that Frank has never paid much attention to his life because he’s never really had to; he never really questioned rising faster and higher than the woman who started as his boss, nor whether his policies were actually effective, because neither of those were necessary to achieve his goal of total personal comfort. I really like how plausibly the film lays out, through behaviours and implication, how Frank would have mindlessly climbed the ladder to be in the position he’s in at the start.

Once the story gets going, it starts depending on sillier and sillier contrivances to keep the story moving; even then, maybe even especially, I enjoy the neatness of its construction. The one part of the film that doesn’t feel like it’s pushing the story forward in the moment – when we see each of the women’s fantasies of how they’d deal with Frank – turns out to be setup for the actions they’ll take in reality when things start going absurd. The film throws in coincidences to set the characters in motion and then watches them react; there’s an internal logic to it all.

I think my favourite part is during the climax, when Tinsworthy, Chairman of the Board (Sterling Hayden) shows up. The movie has created an impossible situation for Frank; he has the humiliation of seeing that every policy he failed to enact has improved the company remarkably, meaning he knows full well that the company has been worse off than if he’d never taken his job, coupled with the fact that he can’t get revenge on the leads without very publicly revealing this information. He effectively has to choose between public and private humiliation (if the movie has any weakness philosophically, it’s not knowing as we do now that men like Frank very much choose the former).