The First Wives Club (1996)

The First Wives Club is the rare studio comedy that feels both deliciously cathartic and genuinely warm, powered by the kind of movie-star chemistry you can’t manufacture: Goldie Hawn, Bette Midler, and Diane Keaton play off one another like old friends who know exactly where the laughs and the bruises are. It’s glossy Manhattan wish-fulfillment with teeth, full of sharp one-liners and that buoyant ’90s crowd-pleaser rhythm, but it never forgets the sting underneath the jokes as these women reclaim their dignity on their own terms. Hugh Wilson keeps the tone bright and brisk, letting the performances do the heavy lifting while the story builds toward a satisfying sense of payback without getting mean-spirited. If you’re allergic to broad, high-concept revenge comedy, it may feel a bit heightened, but if you want smart escapism with heart and three legends having a ball, this is an easy yes.

The First Wives Club wants to be a crowd-pleasing revenge fantasy about friendship, reinvention, and middle-aged women taking back power in a world that traded them in for “newer models.” When it works, it’s because Hawn, Midler, and Keaton have enough charisma to make even the goofiest moments watchable, and the movie has a few genuinely satisfying, cathartic beats. But don’t go in expecting sharp satire or a cleverly engineered scheme—the plotting is wobbly, the comedy often leans sitcom-broad and slapsticky, and the glossy, plastic sheen can blunt whatever bite the premise promises. If you’re looking for a smarter, meaner takedown of sexism and divorce politics, you may feel shortchanged; if you just want star power, comfort-food laughs, and a feel-good comeuppance, it’ll do the job.