1957’s The Incredible Shrinking Man is celebrated as one of the landmark sci-fi films of its time—a visually striking imaginative tale that found its sense of awe—and sheer terror—not in deep space or a far-off future, but in the ordinary routines of daily life. Director, screenwriter Jane Wagner, and powerhouse comedian Lily Tomlin, however, saw it as the ideal candidate for a…
Released 45 years ago today, 1981’s was initially envisioned as a direct sequel to Jack Arnold’s original (itself an adaptation of Richard Matheson’s novel The Shrinking Man), focusing on wife Louise venturing into her missing husband’s microscopic world. Yet the project languished in development limbo until the late 1970s, when John Landis pushed for a comedic overhaul.
Regrettably, budget limitations (Landis had imagined a spectacle he called a “cross between and I Love Lucy”) and other obligations (a little-known film titled ) left Schumacher with the task of finally bringing the film to life. The first-time director, then best known for co-writing musicals The Wiz, Car Wash, and Sparkle, later admitted he was out of his depth but was buoyed by the extraordinary talent of his leading actress.
Even when shrunk to the size of a matchstick, Tomlin still dominates the screen. She also gets ample opportunities to showcase her range, reprising characters from her one-woman stage shows (no-nonsense organic cosmetics salesperson Judith) and Rowan and Martin’s Laugh-In (sarcastic telephone operator Ernestine), along with both full-sized and miniature versions of suburban housewife Pat. Eddie Murphy, take note.
It’s Pat, though, who takes center stage: a woman who has an adverse reaction to experimental household products brought home by her ad executive husband Vance (Charles Grodin), becoming a media sensation and the primary target of a malicious corporation. Tomlin captures the disorientation and anxiety that come with this drastic shift in perspective, which at times feels like unsettling body horror.
With one of America’s funniest women in the lead, The Incredible Shrinking Woman leans into humor derived from its fantastical premise. Pat grows so small she’s forced to live in a dollhouse, where she’s “showered” by a Betsy Wetsy doll. There’s also a slapstick scene where the tiny heroine, dressed as Little Bo Peep, is accidentally tossed from the marital bed onto a skateboard and into the arms of a Ken doll. Add a gross-out moment where she’s covered in rotting food after falling down a garbage disposal, and it’s clear Tomlin went all out for her craft.
Wagner, Tomlin’s real-life partner, also seizes every chance to mine the absurd situation for wordplay. “We’ll discuss this when you come down off your soapbox,” Vance quips after an argument where his wife is, indeed, literally standing on a soapbox. Then there’s the funeral held after Pat is presumed dead from the garbage disposal incident, where Judith eulogizes, “No one will ever fill her shoes.” Cue the rimshot.
Beyond clever wordplay and over-the-top gags, The Incredible Shrinking Woman also injects satire. The voyeuristic media face scrutiny for their glee in others’ misfortunes; an anchorman, foreshadowing a TV culture of endless analysis, speculates if Pat’s ordeal is a metaphor (“The role of the housewife has become increasingly less significant…”).
It also critiques consumer culture, from the empty promises of advertising to the blithe ignorance of what we put into our bodies. Judith’s scrutiny of cereal ingredients (“tumescent tissue of bull scrotum”) might just turn you off Cheerios forever. It’s no accident the film opens and closes outside a supermarket.
Appropriately, The Incredible Shrinking Woman works best when focusing on intimate details rather than its grand conspiracy, which feels more at home in Schumacher’s later genre blockbusters than this otherwise warm domestic comedy. The film’s concept was bold enough without adding a genius gorilla, a zealous science enthusiast, and a shadowy corporation intent on shrinking the population using Pat’s blood.
At the very least, unlike the original, it left audiences smiling instead of grappling with existential dread. While Grant Williams’ shrinking man resigned himself to a tiny, lonely fate in a bleak ending, Tomlin’s character is restored to her normal size—cured by the same mysterious chemicals that caused her condition. Briefly, anyway. In a final twist hinting at a follow-up, Pat realizes she’s now growing a bit too much.
Despite its star’s best efforts, The Incredible Shrinking Woman wasn’t a major hit, and its decent but not sequel-worthy put an end to further shape-shifting adventures. Still, with its charming practical effects, vibrant pastel aesthetic, and a standout lead performance from a comedian at her peak, this small-scale caper remains a delight.
The Incredible Shrinking Woman is streaming on Amazon Prime.