Directed by: Paul Feig
Written by: Kristen Wiig & Annie Mumolo Full credits at IMDB
Let an actress pass diarrhea into a restroom sink and a thousand critics can write think pieces about gender and the Apatow formula. But for me Bridesmaids had a lot less to do with sisterhood than it did the economy. Goddamn, this movie is one long class-anxiety nightmare, a relentless shaming—sexually, professionally, every which way—of Kristen Wiig's Annie, who has to ride coach while others ride first class, who has to fret over price tags, who drives a shit car, who doesn't have the resources to shower her best friend Lillian (Maya Rudolph) with the kind of gifts and parties that a rival lady-friend can. I thought Annie's problem wasn't that she had to watch Lillian get married—the formula for so many friends-growing-apart narratives—but that she had to watch as her old pal moved past her economically. The saddest part is the way Annie's economic life becomes linked with her personal life: her bakery goes under, she loses her boyfriend; being broke makes her insecure and inspires a self-loathing that pushes her to sleep with awful men. If it weren't for all the jokes, Bridesmaids would have really bummed me out.
Keep reading my conversation with Benjamin Sutton at The L Magazine
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