Welcome to the first in a series that I am calling ‘Hidden Gems’. In reading these articles I hope that I can draw your attention to pieces of entertainment that I think may have slipped under the radar or are worthy of more respect and adoration in the wider cultural sphere.

The focus of this hidden gem is the 1999 cult classic Drop Dead Gorgeous. Written by Lona Williams and directed by Micheal Patrick Jann the movie is a satirical black comedy mockumentary about the fictional ‘Sarah Rose Cosmetics American Teen Princess Beauty Pageant’ in Mount Rose, Minnesota as it celebrates its fiftieth anniversary. The ‘documentary’ follows the pageant process, its participants, and the townsfolk who have played a role in and helped run it over the years. The main focus of the film is pageant contestant Amber Atkins (Kristen Dunst), who works at the local crematorium applying makeup to the recently deceased and who spends her days dreaming of becoming a news reporter, just like her idol, Diane Sawyer. However, Amber’s hopes of winning are disrupted by Gladys Leeman (Kirstie Alley), a past ‘American Teen Princess’ and current host of the pageant who will stop at nothing to help her daughter, Becky (Denise Richards), be crowned the winner.

So why am I imploring you to watch a movie about a beauty pageant?

Well, firstly it is side-splittingly entertaining, with a ridiculous plot that features explosions, murder, a ladder dance sequence, food poisoning by shellfish, tap dancing and a rendition of ‘Can’t Take My Eyes Off You’ featuring Jesus. The characters also include jaded and bitter ex-beauty pageant winners, Adam West, a crazed dance teacher, a perverted judge, a recovering anorexic and an alcoholic mother who spends most of the movie with a beer can fused to her hand. Whilst this hardly sounds funny or light-hearted, it is within the sheer morbidity of Drop Dead Gorgeous that lies its greatest strength.

As you laugh away at the ever increasingly ridiculous plot and characters, with another mound of popcorn kernels halfway to your mouth, you pause and ask, ‘Did I really just laugh at that?’, taking a moment to question your own morality and values. Undergoing an existential crisis whilst watching a comedy may not appear to be entertaining, but this is the brilliance of satire and is why Drop Dead Gorgeous works so well: it jolts us into reality, moving us away from the confines of entertainment and placing a mirror up to our own society, exposing its deep-seated issues. It forces us to bear witness to uncomfortable, harsh truths that we can so easily dismiss, especially in the era of smartphones where we can silence the most pressing stories with the tap of a button.

Despite premiering 25 years ago, Drop Dead Gorgeous remains profoundly relevant, broaching upon subjects such as teen pregnancy, healthcare, drug use, gun violence and class systems. However, I think that its most powerful critique comes from the beauty pageant around which the plot of the film revolves. At surface level, the movie is funny by very virtue of the way that it mocks the stupidity and vanity of beauty pageants and those who partake in them. What isn’t fun about laughing at people who are willing to kill each other to win a plastic tiara? After all, it is a competition format that is still widely present today. Yet Drop Dead Gorgeous goes beyond mocking the elaborate pomp and circumstance of beauty pageants and picks apart what lies at their core: a competition in which contestants are turned into commodities and judged on their appearance, encouraged to defeat anyone who lies in their way to achieve victory. In Drop Dead Gorgeous, this victory takes the form of a recycled plastic crown, sash, bouquet of flowers and a measly financial scholarship that will barely cover the cost of an airplane ticket. Moreover, the financial scholarship prize is donated by the father of the winner, a dig towards the corruption within 1990s society, and being emblematic of the unequal systems of power and inequality that are still rife today. The movie speaks to the desperate lengths that we all go to achieve a sense of victory, a sense of validation in the eyes of a society that is stacked up against so many.

This is perhaps why the movie received little fanfare when it was released. A box office bomb, the movie was critically derided, perhaps due to its mockery of American society and critique of cultural values being something that audiences and critics could not stomach or come to terms with. Years later, as we have all become more effective in drawing attention to the important issues that society faces, the movie has found a cult following and a new appreciation for its bleak, satirical humour.

Considering the fine line that the movie walks, it would have been easy for it to fail spectacularly, yet it is thanks to its witty writing that it succeeds. It also features an incredible cast of actors, including the likes of Kirsten Dunst, Allison Janney, Denise Richards, Kirstie Alley and Amy Adams (in her film debut), who all deliver hysterical performances that feature just the right level of melodrama needed for a satirical comedy. Moreover, its mockumentary style (a format later popularised by shows such as The Office) exposes the inherent artificiality of beauty pageants. It creates a sense of quasi-realism, as you are aware that you are watching something so clearly constructed, yet as characters address the camera, the events of the movie seem plausible, almost real, allowing the moments of satire to land like a gut punch. There is also an inherent campness to the film that exacerbates its most ridiculous moments that grounds it in a sense of reality and humanity. In many ways Drop Dead Gorgeous was ahead of its time, in its format, writing and social commentary.

Sadly, I don’t think Drop Dead Gorgeous would be made today, as the satirical and comedic risks that it takes probably wouldn’t be viable in the current financial or social landscape. I hope I am proven wrong. I think that the bleak morbidity of satire is one of the few ways in which we can hold a lens up to society and scrutinise those in power, alerting us to the issues that we continue to face. Satire can weaken that which seems insurmountable and threatening all through a simple laugh. Now that truly is the power of comedy.

Of course, I may have read too much into the movie. My brain is most likely still working in overdrive as a result of too many university seminars, causing me to overanalyse every detail of all the entertainment that I consume. Regardless, Drop Dead Gorgeous is thoroughly enjoyable film that laughs at the bitter world of beauty pageants whilst serving up a steaming side dish of political analysis. So stick on Drop Dead Gorgeous, it truly is a hidden gem.

Drop Dead Gorgeous is currently streaming on Amazon Prime.

Works Consulted

Peitzman, Louis. ““Jesus Loves Winners”: How “Drop Dead Gorgeous” Found Cult Success As A Flop.” Buzz Feed, 22 Jul. 2024, www.buzzfeed.com/louispeitzman/drop-dead-gorgeous-15-year-anniversary. Accessed 10 Jun. 2024.

The post Hidden Gems: Drop Dead Gorgeous (Opinion) first appeared on The Life of Riley.

Watched it yet? Surprised? Disturbed by the idea of people eating human meat? Well, you wouldn’t be left out. 

Channel 4 should be commended for keeping this under wraps until its broadcast, hiding its satirical, mockumentary style. I was undoubtedly left unawares, brushing it off as another piece of ‘fluffy entertainment’ in which Greg Wallace dons a hairnet until I stumbled across scathing headlines, exclaiming how viewers were shocked when they tuned into Greg Wallace dining on pieces of ‘human meat’. 

Yet this is the brilliance of this scathing satire: it masterfully disguised itself through the framework of formulaic docuseries such as Inside the Factory. The elements are certainly all there: Greg Wallace making exclamations and grinning from ear to ear whilst staring at pieces of machinery and listening to employees, statistics comparing factories to the size of football pitches, and a lively female presenter, strolling the High Street, gathering opinions from the public. 

Through employing this format, the premise appears frighteningly plausible: members of the public have been left with no other choice than to cut pieces of their tissue off in exchange for paying off their exorbitant bills, caused by the cost-of-living crisis. 

Greg Wallace: The British Miracle Meat also succeeds in producing feelings of extreme discomfort in subtle yet sophisticated ways. As Michel Roux Jr. and Greg Wallace test pieces of ‘human meat’ they talk about the type of individual who ‘donated’ their flesh and how their background impacts the way that it tastes, which speaks to the way people and services are continually undervalued, judge against their societal standing, bodies, and jobs. 

The head honchos behind the human meat corporation ‘Good Harvest’ arguably represent those in power who are ignorant of the pain others are experiencing, signalled by the claim that the operation used to harvest the ‘miracle meat’ is ‘pain subjective’. 

Another biting moment comes with the reveal that ‘Good Harvest’ is researching human leather for the fast fashion industry, highlighting our love for consumerism, no matter the impact it has on others or the planet. When the episode turns to interview members of the public, the enthusiasm exhibited at such a cheap piece of ‘meat’, with little care for how it is produced, or what it actually is, indicates the sheer desperation and measures that people are willing to go to merely survive during periods of exorbitant inflation. 

It is worth emphasizing that all of this is packed into a concise yet breezy 20 minutes. Many will be (and have been) left upset and enraged over the content of the mockumentary, left horrified at the prospect of screaming children undergoing ‘pain subjective’ medical operations to create a ‘premium’ brand of meat. 

However, isn’t this the entire point of satire? To make us feel uneasy or uncomfortable? 

At times like this, where many, including myself, have become blindsided by the devastating impact the cost-of-living crisis has caused, satire can rupture the public consciousness, alerting people to the societal problems through a format many of us turn to for mindless escapism. Satire forces us to confront that which we often ignore, are not aware of or don’t want to address. 

The just under 400 complaints made to Ofcom expose exactly what the mockumentary wanted to: how society is willing to live in blissful ignorance of the bleak realities of others, reluctant to relinquish the seemingly happy façade that satires such as this seek to tear down. 

So, will Greg Wallace: The British Miracle Meat continue to send shockwaves through the UK or elicit a response from those in power? 

No. Probably not. 

Yet…this may not even matter. The fact it compelled me to write this article, to confront my own ignorance demonstrates that it has succeeded in prompting discussion, however small it may be. 

If you still haven’t watched it (even after my imploring at the start of this article), I think it is an essential piece of viewing, a searing piece of television that will only take 20 minutes of your time. 

If for nothing else, watch it for the revelation I had: that Greg Wallace can act.

The post Greg Wallace: The British Miracle Meat – Review first appeared on The Life of Riley.