AllMovie

Private Benjamin is a beloved film, a rallying call for burgeoning feminists and one of Goldie Hawn's most recognizable star vehicles. However, its narrative is also a mess and only funny in spots. The film doesn't understand what it wants to be -- a goofy military sendup or a tale of a spoiled young woman growing into independence. A smarter script would have had it both ways, but this one meanders, jumping in and out of the barracks and finishing with a third act that has nothing to do with the armed forces. If it had been filmed in the 1990s, Private Benjamin might have taken place entirely within basic training, centering on the struggles of Hawn's Judy Benjamin as she makes painful but funny strides to trade her jewelry for artillery. That might have been too tight and formulaic, but at least it would have been internally consistent. As is, the film jumps from a funny opener involving the absurd death of Judy's new husband (Albert Brooks), to Judy's pronounced difficulties in training, to her sudden rebound to head of the class, where she scores an assignment so select that only men had received it. Little explanation is given for her transition between these stations. And the third act, involving her engagement to a French skeezeball (Armand Assante), can only be considered a very dated, and hollow, feminist victory. The best way to explain the widespread appeal is the viewing public's much-deserved adoration of Hawn, who has some brilliant moments and became one of the most reliable comedic actresses of her generation. When Private Benjamin does trust its sillier instincts, it's a winner.