Over the weekend, I finally checked off a movie that had been sitting on my “someday” list for far too long: Soapdish (1991). Directed by Michael Hoffman and boasting a cast so stacked it almost feels unfair—Sally Field, Whoopi Goldberg, Carrie Fisher, Kevin Kline, Robert Downey Jr., Elizabeth Shue, and Cathy Moriarty—this film was destined to be outrageous fun. And oh, was it ever.
I knew right away I was in for a treat when the opening credits revealed Nolan Miller as costume designer. Yes, that Nolan Miller of Dynasty fame, the man who turned shoulder pads and sequins into an art form. Add in a splashy, Memphis-inspired set design, and suddenly I found myself in pure early-’90s heaven. By the end, I was not only cackling at the over-the-top drama but also Googling cow-print décor because I need some of that kitschy fabulousness in my life right now.
A Soap Within a Soap
At its core, Soapdish is a playful spoof of the egos, rivalries, and backstabbing antics simmering behind the scenes of a long-running daytime soap opera. It takes all the wild twists soaps are known for—secret affairs, surprise children, sudden deaths—and flips them into deliciously satirical comedy.
Sally Field anchors the film as Celeste Talbert, the beleaguered queen of daytime TV, whose crown is constantly threatened by jealous co-stars and conniving producers. Watching Field vacillate between melodramatic diva and sympathetic everywoman is a delight—she manages to parody soap stars without ever losing her own warmth.
The supporting cast is just as dazzling. Whoopi Goldberg shines as the sharp-tongued head writer constantly juggling the chaos around her. Carrie Fisher—though only on screen briefly—steals the show with her pitch-perfect turn as a sleazy casting agent who oozes inappropriate charm. Kevin Kline relishes his role as Celeste’s washed-up ex-boyfriend, equal parts slimy and pathetic, while Elizabeth Shue plays ingenue-on-the-rise with just the right mix of ambition and wide-eyed charm. And let’s not forget Robert Downey Jr., deliciously oily as a producer more concerned with ratings than morality.
Every scene feels like a tug-of-war between egos, and the result is high camp perfection.
Tacky, Glittery Splendor
I’ll be honest: while the story is fun, I spent at least half the runtime pausing the film just to soak up the glorious visual excess. The costumes are exactly what you’d hope from Nolan Miller: shimmering gowns, bold shoulders, dramatic jewelry, and just enough outrageous flair to make you wonder how soap opera stars ever got dressed without exhausting themselves.
And the set design? I’m still not over it. Bright Memphis-inspired interiors, wild geometric prints, and an unapologetic embrace of color that makes everything feel like it belongs in a candy-coated fever dream. The cow-print accents nearly sent me over the edge—I’m still determined to find a way to sneak that pattern into my own home décor.
It’s tacky. It’s over-the-top. And it’s absolutely magnificent. This isn’t subtle design—it’s bold, maximalist, wink-at-the-camera extravagance. And it works, because Soapdish itself is one giant wink.
Why It Still Works Today
Part of what makes Soapdish so enjoyable, even more than 30 years later, is how self-aware it is. It skewers the soap opera industry with a sharp wit but does so lovingly, never punching down. The film knows soaps are ridiculous—and it knows we love them for it.
In an era when behind-the-scenes Hollywood stories often skew dark or cynical, Soapdish feels refreshingly playful. It pokes fun at ambition, vanity, and ego, but it also celebrates the joy of pure entertainment. This is camp at its best: silly, stylish, and fully committed.
How to Watch It Best
If you haven’t seen Soapdish yet, don’t just put it on in the background—make an evening of it. Whip up a batch of tiki drinks (because this movie practically demands something fruity and over-decorated), invite a few friends over, and let yourself revel in the chaos. It’s the kind of film that rewards both group laughter and solo admiration for its design details.
And yes, it’s available to rent on Prime Video—so no excuses.
Final Thoughts
Watching Soapdish for the first time felt like discovering a glittery time capsule of early-’90s excess: star-studded, stylish, and unapologetically campy. It’s a film that understands the drama of soap operas better than most soap operas themselves. Between the powerhouse performances, the costume-and-set design dreams, and the sheer joy of watching actors lean into every ridiculous twist, it’s a comedy that hasn’t lost its sparkle.
If you’re craving a dose of “tacky perfection,” this is it. Put on your biggest earrings, pour yourself a neon-colored cocktail, and prepare to laugh. Because Soapdish isn’t just a movie—it’s an experience.
