The Lessons Working Women Should Have Learned from ‘Don’t Tell Mom the Babysitter’s Dead’
In the 1991 film, Don’t Tell Mom the Babysitter’s Dead, we meet a family of degenerate youth who, when their parents inexplicably leave the country and hire an ancient babysitter to look after them for the entire summer, are left to their own devices when the babysitter predictably dies in her sleep in the first act. A set-up of epic proportions, to be sure, the children soon realize that their summer of freedom comes at a cost: Responsibility. Thus, the oldest, played by the ever-brilliant Christina Applegate, must get a job. When she learns that disgusting fast food work is not her jam, she fakes a resume and goes to work at a uniform company, excited to work in “fashion”. Hilarity ensues.
As a pre-teen, I loved this movie. My shitty cable-recorded VHS copy got worn out from overwatching, and lines from the movie still sometimes permeate my everyday speech three decades later (The dishes are DONE, man!). Luckily, at 11, there is no such thing as a guilty pleasure. Taste at that age is not molded by what you know is “good”; you simply enjoy for the sake of enjoyment.
That said, I probably don’t have to tell you that the plot of this film does not hold up under the scrutiny of adulthood. Could a 17-year old (even one played by a beautiful 20-year old) actually be able to convince professional career-minded women that she was a graduate of Vassar? It’s highly unlikely. But what I have realized as an adult, is that this film I loved so much as a child was perhaps not meant to be taken on a literal level. Now that I am closer to the age of Sue Ellen’s would-be mentor, Rose (Joanna Cassidy) than Applegate’s protagonist herself, I can see the film for what it is: a sort of feminist critique of the modern workplace and the myriad of ways it is unfair to women. And while the 11-year old version of myself cheered through Sue Ellen’s deception, the grown-up version sees it as a stand-in for the imposter syndrome that women in business face every day.
“No One’s Gonna Know, Right?”
Have you ever felt like you didn’t actually earn that promotion? Maybe it eats away at you, feeling like any day now, someone will realize that you don’t deserve to be in the position you have achieved. Do you feel this way irrespective of your own achievement and accolades? This is imposter syndrome. It isn’t an official disorder in the DSM V, but it is a common feeling that has been expressed by a significant and diverse portion of the population. While the term was first coined in the 70’s, the hustle culture of the modern workplace has seen growth in the number of people identifying with the phenomenon. It is marked by doubt in one’s accomplishments and a persistent fear of being exposed as a fraud. And if you personally don’t feel it, chances are you know someone who does.
No one was talking about imposter syndrome in 1991 when Don’t Tell Mom was released. But people did seem to be talking a lot about kids doing jobs they were too young for. Interestingly, Tara Ison and Neil Landau, the screenwriters on Don’t Tell Mom, are credited as writers on a single episode of Doogie Howser, M.D., which might have been the most famous example of this theme. The show ran from 1989–1993 and starred a very young Neil Patrick Harris as a teenage doctor. Unlike Sue Ellen, who has to actively hide her age from her adult colleagues, Doogie gets to be open about the fact that he is a kid genius. Nevertheless, he still experienced doubt in his abilities throughout the series, and is even questioned by others regularly about whether he is up to the extreme responsibility of the job, suggesting that even for this very gifted kid, the feeling of imposter syndrome is still there, despite never being mentioned by name.
For Sue Ellen, the fear of being exposed as a fraud is very real, and begins very early in her tenure at General Apparel West. These feelings are rarely expressed in the film’s dialogue, but in Applegate’s subtle pained facial expressions when her mentor, Rose Lindsey, makes comments that a more mature individual would understand, like her assertion that “every girl over 25 should have a cucumber in the house”, or praises her for being a “Vassar Girl!” or beautifully completing the overwhelming “QED Reports” — goals that Sue Ellen knows that she did not actually accomplish.
But, while Sue Ellen’s fraud is real, it may also serve as a symbol of our own perceived fraud–that lingering feeling that our education is not enough, our work is not enough, or that we, indeed, are simply not enough to deserve the opportunities we’ve been given. Many of us walk around feeling like we are still ignorant teenagers figuring things out as we go, just wearing fancier clothes while we do it. Our internal conflict is not so different from Sue Ellen’s external one.
“Talks Like She’s Chewing Her Face?”
Sue Ellen’s big lie is not the only way in which Don’t Tell Mom explores the effects of toxic work environments. While the depiction of imposter syndrome may be more subtle and symbolic in the film, its depiction of negative female relationships is overt and pervasive.
Upon arriving at General Apparel West for her Interview, the first colleague that Sue Ellen encounters is Carolyn (Jayne Brook), a receptionist who is immediately rude and condescending toward her for no apparent reason, and becomes even more so after learning that Sue Ellen has walked in off the street and been given the job that she herself wanted.
Carolyn is ostensibly positioned as the “villain” in the film, and she is indeed kind of annoying and awful to be around. But she becomes the antagonist only because she tries to discover the truth behind Sue Ellen’s lies. Later, we learn that she is actually the older sister of Sue Ellen’s love interest, Bryan (Josh Charles), creating an interesting dynamic when he tells Sue Ellen about the difficult woman his sister has been contending with at work and she realizes that he’s talking about Sue Ellen herself.
The thing is, this really humanizes Carolyn, both for the audience, as well as for Sue Ellen, who picks a fight with her boyfriend over it but ultimately suspects that she may be in the wrong. The conflict between the two women is not one-sided, we realize. Perhaps Carolyn is merely a product of an environment that is clearly controlled by men (as is evidenced by Gus’ workplace harassment of Sue Ellen while he is also dating her boss) and provides limited opportunities for women, who must complete and claw over the scraps that they are given.
This is further evidenced by the fate of Cathy (Kimmy Robertson), a lower-level employee at General Apparel West who is all too happy to volunteer to help Sue Ellen with the looming “QED Reports”, presumably in the vain hope that someone will notice and show her some appreciation. Sue Ellen, fitting in to the corporate culture all too well, uses Cathy’s generosity to her advantage, and even when her colleague falls ill, seems far more concerned about whether the work will get done.
These relationships are all too common in the modern workplace, where, despite decades of progress, women are still often held back from positions of power, and ultimately have less earning potential than their male counterparts. Carolyn is not a villain that victimizes Sue Ellen. Rather, they are both victims of a work culture that forces women into power struggles to get ahead rather than allowing them to support one another in the way that men have since the beginning of time.
“I’m Right On Top of That Rose!”
Don’t Tell Mom the Babysitter’s Dead did not achieve much at the box office. Despite the concurrent popularity of Applegate in Married…With Children, the film was panned by critics, including Roger Ebert, who dismissed it as a “consumerist, escapist fantasy for teenage girls.” And, of course it is all of those things, as the 11-year old version of myself rightly appreciated. But, had I watched it a bit more closely, I may have found warnings about the perils of the modern corporate workplace. Luckily, there’s a whole generation of women who are learning that lesson for themselves and beginning to try to change the game.
