by Rebecca McCallum, Contributor

This year sees the 70th anniversary of Howard Hawks’ 1953 Gentlemen Prefer Blondes starring Marilyn Monroe and Jane Russell as showgirls and best friends Dorothy and newly engaged Lorelei, as they embark upon a trip from America to Paris. Throughout the film, they become intertwined in a series of romantic trysts and mishaps involving diamond-mine owners, detectives, and an athletics troupe. Despite being progressive in its message, the film has routinely been misread and reduced in interpretation as a diminutive story of two vacuous gold diggers. However, a re-evaluation of the film–most crucially from a female perspective–repositions it as a triumphant example of female friendship and solidarity, led by two women who are as strong and long-lasting as the diamonds spoken of in the film’s most recognisable song.

Sexual Roles and Bodily Power

In the 1950s, attitudes towards women and sex had not quite arrived at the milestone that would emerge in the following decade. Such a fact makes the power of female sexuality in the film all the more progressive and equally, impossible to ignore. Despite the opposite sex attempting to stifle and control their sexual expression, the women repeatedly take control in flirtatious situations. When Dorothy’s gaze is turned by a male athletics team, she is told by Lorelei’s fiancée Gus: ‘I want you to remember you are the chaperone on this trip’, his instructiveness acting as a clear aim to tame the threat of female dominance. Importantly, Dorothy chooses to be non-compliant with this order as she not only engages with the athletes but prominently takes the reins, acting as a confident and high-spirited hostess, leading the relay team into her cabin. For Dorothy, sexual pursuit is not something to be ashamed of, nine o’ clock is when ‘life begins’ and she is refreshingly open and at ease in her role as a female hunter. Both Dorothy and Lorelei also subvert the Hollywood convention of being treated as feminine objects. They achieve this by turning their objectification onto the men of the film. When Lorelei meets the wealthy diamond baron Piggy, the possessive male gaze loses its power as, in her eyes–and in ours–for one moment, Piggy literally becomes an object as his head is shown encased by a diamond.

This destabilisation of sexual roles and bodily power is also seen in the women’s musical solo numbers. In the gymnasium, Dorothy is surrounded by men who perform the typical female role in being scantily clad while she eyes up their muscles and (quite literally) wears the trousers in her one-piece suit. Her friend Lorelei performs “Diamonds are a Girls’ Best Friend” dressed in a warning colour of hot-pink. As the male dancers advance upon her, Lorelei makes her feelings known, confidently rejecting them with a gentle slap of her phallic fan. The film’s most well-known song also supports a reading that Lorelei’s focus is far away from needing or wanting a man. Instead, the lyrics note how romantic affection won’t pay for: ‘the rental on your humble flat or help you at the automat’. When surrounded by the female dancers–who are colour-coded in union with her, Lorelei is seen to be more at ease with them as opposed to their male counterparts, even making physical contact and seeming to offer advice, signifying that female solidarity is front and centre in the film. Here and throughout, Lorelei and Dorothy are shown as owning and expressing their desires with pride; they know what they want and how to obtain it. Turning the tired and reductive damsel in distress formula on its head, they remain forever in control of the game, leaving the men behind as clueless pawns.

Hoes Before Bros

Gentlemen Prefer Blondes is bookended with scenes of Lauralei and Dorothy together, a statement of their friendship and unity, signifying that while “men are the same everywhere” these “two little girls from Little Rock” will always remain faithful to one another. Ahead of their expedition to Paris, Lorelei makes it clear that she does not consider herself tethered to Gus. “I’m sailing with or without him,” she declares. The first shot of the women shows them in performance, and performativity itself becomes a theme across the film. While they assume various roles to attract and disarm men who mistakenly believe they have the measure of the pair, this veil is dropped in the name of authenticity when they are alone together. Such openness and honesty are never mirrored in the relationships of the male characters, who by turn, we see watching, detecting, and following the women with little success. When singing “Bye, Bye, Baby” to Gus as the ship is about to depart, Lorelei and her husband-to-be are interrupted by Dorothy. With a knowing smile, she tells her friend’s beau: ‘Hey, you better go’ before usurping his place next to Lorelei. Such a choice denotes loudly and clearly that it is the journey of the two friends that will outlive all else and which forms the heart of the story.

When Dorothy happens upon her recent love interest Malone taking what looks to be incriminating photographs of Lorelei with Piggy, she also discovers that he is in fact working undercover for Gus. Rather than approaching Malone right away, she shows her loyalty and allegiance in going first to Lorelei. Amidst the fallout of this male conspiracy, Dorothy and Malone become embroiled in an argument. Lorelei is invited by Dorothy into the room as this disagreement takes place–indicative of the intimacy and closeness of their bond and suggestive of an inner need from Dorothy to have her friend nearby when she feels vulnerable. Sensing Lorelei’ s protectiveness and the power of their relationship, Malone responds by stooping to insults which are met with a prompt order from her to “Pray, scat.” Ejecting Malone from the room, Lorelei proves it is not just Dorothy who can be commanding, highlighting the balanced nature of their mutually supportive relationship.

Arriving at Paris, there is a wonderful montage of the pair shopping with the strong feminine spirit of the film echoed through shots of the female form, shown in sculpture and mannequins. In company together without the presence of a man, the two appear at their most blissful and content. “This was fun wasn’t it?” Dorothy asks. In return, Lorelei evidences how friendship can be more meaningful than romance, remarking, “Yes, this is the first time I’ve been shopping without a man around.” Their union throughout these Paris scenes is further solidified by the shared pattern and designs of their costumes.

In the capital, we see them come together through their mutual love of song and dance in the number “When Love Goes Wrong.” Through the art of performance, they lift one another’s spirits in a positive expression and celebration of their talent. The truthfulness and freedom of their energy notably spills out, infecting the crowd that quickly gathers around them. Happiest when they are performing together, the scene concludes with them waving through the open sunroof of a car; here Dorothy and Lorelei are breaking through metaphorical ceilings and standing tall in total harmony with one another.

Two Heads Are Better Than One

When male forces conspire against them, Lorelei and Dorothy coordinate harmoniously in a way that celebrates their individuality and which proves how, when together, they are unstoppable. In their eye-catching outfits, they take command of every room and can silence any man, but in doing so they expose the shallowness of those who judge them merely on their appearance. When Lorelei attempts to bribe the headwaiter so she can sit next to Henry Spotford III and he refuses, she threatens to have all future meals in her cabin. She does this because she knows it will negate the bribes the waiter has already taken from men to be sat at her table and thus she manipulates and disarms him perfectly, evidencing that she is so much more than the empty-headed blonde many think her to be.

When Dorothy tells Lorelei about the photographs Malone has taken of her and Piggy, she also issues a rally call: “let’s put on our war paint and go to work.” Always one step ahead of the men, the two set about retrieving the photographs as Lorelei breaks into his room while Dorothy distracts him at dinner, both playing an equally vital part in their operation. Together, they coordinate and conspire, eventually luring him to their cabin where they serve him a cocktail of scotch, vodka, brandy, and gin to get him drunk so they can strip him of his clothes (note it is the females who are de-robing the male) to search for the pictures. As Dorothy says resolutely, “Two heads are better than one, come on we’ll stick together.”

When Love Goes Wrong, Friendship Always Makes It Right

The loyalty and faithfulness between Lorelei and Dorothy defies the rampant patriarchy both of 1953 and that which continues to dominate women to this day. What is most endearing about their relationship is that despite their differences (Lorelei dreams big and is impulsive, whereas Dorothy is cautious and realistic), they act as balancing forces for one another. In addition to this, they also acknowledge that each deserves fulfilment, with Lauralei wishing Dorothy to be taken care of financially and in return, Dorothy hoping that Lauralei: ‘finds happiness’. However, although romantic love is waiting in the wings, we are left questioning the permanency of such a prospect. When Dorothy sings the title line of the song, “ain't there anyone here for love?” followed by “Courts free, doesn’t anyone want to play?” she does not receive a reply, reaffirming the idea that romantic love might be fleeting but nothing can match that which exists between her and Lorelei.

From the beginning of the film, we see the women tease one another and disagree, but this is never to the detriment of their friendship. Rather, theirs is a portrait of a healthy relationship that includes not always seeing eye-to-eye as well as providing love and support. When apart, they also show their loyalty by protecting and defending one another. In a proclamation that could almost be read as forecasting a wish for herself, Lorelei remarks upon how Dorothy is “the best and most loyal-ist friend a girl ever had–she’ll make someone a wonderful wife.” Whilst walking on deck together one evening, Malone expresses bemusement to Dorothy at the friends’ compatibility, “I just can’t figure out how two girls can be so different and be such good friends.” Catching his misreading of Lorelei, Dorothy immediately sets him right. “Listen, no one else talks about Lorelei but me. She’s a good girl. You just don’t know her”

In the courtroom scene where Dorothy stands in for Lorelei, who has been accused of theft, their connection becomes almost transcendent when the former poses as her friend in an act of assimilation. In this transformation, Dorothy is not only saving her friend from danger but her ability to perform the part so convincingly reflects the depth of their relationship. This portrayal is taken a step further when she re-enacts Lorelei’s song (a performance within a performance) as she is part her friend while also being herself. Underneath the makeup and wig she is still quintessentially Dorothy, demonstrating the beauty of a synergy that is unbreakable. She also uses her new identity as Lorelei to inform Malone that he shouldn’t defame her friends’ character. In dressing as Lorelei, Dorothy acknowledges that her performance has an artificial quality reflected in her friend’s performance with Piggy and Malone, and in doing so, she demonstrates her intelligence and understanding which the men of the film fail in.

Forever Betrothed

The final scene shows Dorothy and Lorelei in a double wedding, with the focus not on the couples but on the women. Once more, they are dressed the same, in two white gowns as we return to the song of the opening “Two Little Girls from Little Rock” and to a place of ultimate unity. With the attention given to them as their eyes meet with excitement–rather than gazing at their husbands–Lorelei and Dorothy are forever betrothed to one another. The two friends will never be separated and their allyship has been, is, and will continue to be their greatest strength. They do not exist as women to merely be looked at but as women in possession of knowledge and agency. This female-centric reading of Gentlemen Prefer Blondes has evidenced that, in reply to the question, “ain’t there anyone here for love?” The answer is that, in this case, the most enduring love of all is to be found in friendship and female solidarity.

Rebecca is a writer of horror/film analysis, an author, editor and Hitchcock enthusiast. She is Assistant Editor of Ghouls Magazine and a Senior Contributor at Moving Pictures Film Club where she has an ongoing series of essays on Hitchcock’s Women. She has by-lines with Dread Central and Rue Morgue as well as work in print with Grim Journal, Second Sight and Hear Us Scream-The Voices of Horror Vol I. You can find her on Twitter and Instagram @PendlePumpkin.