The first three episodes of Absolutely Fabulous, which aired in Britain in November 1992, were titled “Fashion,” “Fat,” and “France.” That those words also accurately describe the themes of Absolutely Fabulous: The Movie, which opened in the U.S. this weekend, could be seen as a sign of creative stagnation, a sad commentary on a show that never really expanded its worldview. It could also mean that when Jennifer Saunders created useless publicist Edina Monson (played by Saunders), her constant companion Patsy Stone (Joanna Lumley), daughter Saffron (Julia Sawalha), and assistant Bubble (Jane Horrocks) and plopped them into a seething cauldron of PR, fame, and fantasy, she hit upon a universal fascination—a timeless exploration of the most fraught topics of our time.
The truth is probably somewhere in between. Absolutely Fabulous was rarely laugh-out-loud funny—at least to me, and I consider myself a fan—but it was unmissable because it was reliably fearless and shocking in its willingness to question the values of our age. Even after 24 years, 39 TV episodes, and a movie, I’m still not entirely sure if it has been poking politically incorrect fun at a pair of pathetic middle-aged women who are desperate to seem hipper and younger than they are, or if it’s an exposé of the hypocrisy of a society that is obsessed with fame, consumerism, and bad behavior but hates anyone who admits to seeking the first and enjoying the last two.
I’ve been on enough feminist collectives to know that discussing why something is or isn’t funny is an exercise that quickly loses its appeal. Let’s just say that a few years ago—I believe it was around the 2011 Christmas special when Edi discovered the Kardashians and railed against the no-name nobodies whose likenesses now fill the celebrity weeklies—it became clear that Edi had always been right about, well, everything. Before reality TV and celebrity blogs and Goop, a self-obsessed third-rate PR agent with very strange taste in clothes knew that “fake it till you make it” was the only sure path to happiness.
Which brings us to the movie. As usual, the plot is flimsy. Edina, whose PR business is on life support, thanks in part to the democratization of social media—aren’t we all our own PR these days?—desperately needs a hot new client. While wooing Kate Moss, she accidentally sends the supermodel into a watery grave in the Thames. Finally famous but fearing for their lives, Edi and Patsy flee to France, where—surprise!—absurd outfits are worn, Bolly is quaffed, and hijinks ensue.
None of this is particularly original or surprising, but it’s still great fun. After investing two and a half decades in the AbFab universe, we crave callbacks to familiar situations and characters, including many real people—at least half of the final credits list is taken up by people playing themselves. It would have been a terrible mistake for the movie to dispense with the kind of uncomfortable tension the TV show always navigated when it comes to, say, transgender people. On a couple of occasions, the movie has characters saying things that could spark protests if they were heard at the Republican National Convention. But if Edi and Patsy were suddenly transformed into fountains of right-on, politically correct talking points, that wouldn’t be the show we know and love—in a slightly complicated “I think that’s OK because they’re wrong about everything, and I’m pretty sure their hearts are in the right place” kind of way.
That’s not to say that the movie is just a supersized TV episode. For one thing, we finally get a glimpse of what’s really going on inside Edi’s head. Back in that very first episode, an exchange between hopelessly irresponsible Edi and Saffi, the daughter who was forced to be the adult in their relationship, typified all the conversations that followed.
Saffron: Mum, you’ve absolved yourself of responsibility. You live from self-induced crisis to self-induced crisis. Someone chooses what you wear. Someone does your brain. Someone tells you what to eat, and, three times a week, someone sticks a hose up your bum and flushes it all out of you.
Edina: It’s called colonic irrigation, darling, and it’s not to be sniffed at.
Saffron: Why can’t you just go to the toilet like normal people?
Edina: Is that what you really want me to be? Normal? Some boring, normal old toilet-goer?
A quarter-century later, Edi and Patsy are still fighting with all their might to avoid becoming normal old toilet-goers. When Saffi comes to her rescue one more time, Edi admits that she knows that what her behavior has done to her daughter—and she apologizes. Sort of. “All I’ve ever wanted was not to be fat and old and to keep the party going,” she tells her. In any other universe, the dissolute, reckless, immature mother would be the villain, and our sympathies would be with the longsuffering daughter. In Absolutely Fabulous, that’s not the case—Saffi is a crashing bore. Her sensible pajamas and nutritionally balanced breakfasts make us long to party all night with Edi and Patsy.
In spite of her long-held desires, it’s inevitable that Edina Monsoon will get fat and old and become a boring, normal old toilet-goer. Or is that just the sort of stinking thinking that sheeple like Saffi are prone to? The fact is that at 58, 70, 47, 52, and 90—the ages of Saunders, Lumley, Sawalha, Horrocks, and June Whitfield, who plays Edina’s mother, respectively—the actresses all look absolutely fabulous and as if they’re having great fun keeping the party going.* If there’s one enduring lesson of Absolutely Fabulous it’s that females are strong as hell, no matter their age, their hang-ups, or their toilet-going habits.
* Correction, July 25, 2016: The original version of this list omitted the name of one of the actresses, which made their ages incorrect.
