Anna Faris’ ‘The House Bunny’ Is An Underrated Classic

A lot of comedy from the mid 2000s is pleasantly forgettable. Owen Wilson or Seth Rogen does something wacky while a disapproving nag of a girlfriend — probably played by an actress who deserves better like Anne Hathaway or Rachel McAdams — frowns in the corner. But there’s one 2008 comedy that deserves far more than its rude 43 percent rating on Rotten Tomatoes. The House Bunny is a funny and genuinely heartfelt examination of sisterhood, and in honor of Anna Faris’ birthday it deserves a re-evaluation.

Directed by Fred Wolf and written by Kirsten Smith and Karen McCullah Lutz, you probably remember The House Bunny as the Playboy sorority movie. After getting kicked out of the Playboy mansion for being too old at the ripe age of 27, Shelley (Anna Faris) has to find a new place to live. Through a series of misunderstandings and parade of college girls, Shelley finds herself on the doorstep of Zeta Alpha Zeta house, the lowest-ranked sorority on campus that’s in danger of having its charter pulled. The only thing that can save Zeta and the home these misfit young women love is if the sorority recruits 30 new members. That’s when Shelley with her all-pink wardrobe, luscious blonde hair, and bubbly personality decides what she needs to do. She needs to become the Zetas house mom and save these girls from themselves. 

It would have been easy to turn this movie into cruel mockery of women for 97 minutes. Broad comedies aren’t great to women, especially college-aged women, historically. But though The House Bunny was happy to deliver predictable jokes about dumb blondes, manipulative women, and of course Playboy bunnies it always had heart underneath those cheap laughs. The House Bunny isn’t a story about a group of women transforming into Stepford sorority girls, though that certainly does happen in its first act. It’s about these young adults learning to recognize and ultimately embrace something they cannot achieve on their own — their own brand of femininity and sexuality. By the end of the film each of these young women finds her own middle ground, somewhere between Shelley’s push-up bra creation and their own individuality. All of these pink-lined makeovers help these women find themselves rather than mask them, much like a raunchier version of Legally Blonde.

And standing in the middle of this is Faris’ wonderful Shelley. More comedies need to take a page out of Shelley’s weird and pink diamond encrusted notebook. Shelley isn’t a genius by anyone’s standards, but she understands people and always remains optimistic and supportive throughout the lowest moments in her privileged life. Much like the sisters of Zeta Alpha Zeta themselves, she exudes sisterhood. And though she may get carried away often, it’s clear that what Shelley and her big heart ultimately want is for these young women to be happy and confident with themselves.

It’s also a role that wonderfully capitalizes on Faris’ comedic talents. More than any other actress, Faris is an expert at playing funny, wide-eyed, and clueless princesses, but The House Bunny capitalizes on her grittier side as well. Often Faris will breathlessly misunderstanding an innuendo before deftly pulling a comedic 180, growling, cursing, and pratfalling in increasingly more ridiculous ways. It’s both sides of Faris’ lovely, vulgar brand of comedy wrapped up in one tube top-wearing role.

The House Bunny has always been a more complicated film than we give it credit for, especially when held under 2018’s lens. Its blatant sexualization and “boys will be boys” attitude toward the male-driven institutions of power are so pronounced, they cross into satire. But even in the movie’s darkest moments, it’s Shelley’s endearing embrace of sisterhood that stands out. The House Bunny is far from a perfect movie, but it deserves way more than the eye roll we’ve given it.

Where to stream The House Bunny