August: Osage County takes two minutes to prove that Meryl Streep, still racking up Oscar nominations like Skee-Ball tickets at age 64, will brutalize herself and you for the sake of a movie. As the loopy Oklahoma grandmama Violet in the new adaptation of Tracy Letts' Pulitzer-winning play, she stumbles around almost gratuitously, gargles profanities at Julia Roberts, and basically refuses to endear us for the movie's entire duration. If you thought June Squibb was broad in Nebraska, you'll be shocked at the kabuki-type insanity of Meryl's work. She practically draws a sword and impales Margo Martindale for disgracing the emperor.

As such, August: Osage County polarizes. But who doesn't love when Meryl gives us polarizing work? After all, her weirdest, kookiest, and potentially funniest movie of all time is also her most divisive: Death Becomes Her. The dark 1992 farce may feel like the snobbish Hollywood cousin to Meryl's other wacky comedy She-Devil, but it's ensconced in a world of shade and saline all its own.

Before you see August: Osage County and decide whether Meryl's Julia-and-Julia-meets-Ironweed-meets-Postcards-From-the-Edge performance is one of her best, let's take a look at this catty classic (which, by the way, was a box office hit in spite of very mixed reviews). Here are the five main reasons Death Becomes Her may be the best movie ever. 

1. I have never been more disturbed or allured by special effects in a movie. 

Madeline Takes a Fall

Never forget that Death Becomes Her, a movie about two ghastly, gorgeous ladies (Meryl Streep and Goldie Hawn) who spend their lives hating one another before imbibing potions to stay young forever, won an Academy Award. The movie's special effects are indeed Oscar-worthy, as when washed-up actress Madeline Ashton (Meryl, tumbles down a giant staircase, finds herself in a pile of her own contorted limbs, and slowly, grossly mutates back into a human form. Imagine if people moved with creepy claymation smoothness. Now imagine if mutated, spine-contorted people moved with creepy claymation smoothness. Yeah. It is a shocking absinthe nightmare, the bodily nastiness in this movie.

2. Goldie Hawn gives a wonderful performance as Jinkx Monsoon

Helen Pays Ernest a Visit

It's no surprise that Jinkx Monsoon's favorite movie is Death Becomes Her. After all, Goldie Hawn is basically serving up high Jinkx Monsoon realness as the big-smiling, hard-vamping sociopath Helen Sharp. That delicate patois with those dark, libidinous undertones? That's the Jinkx signature.

Goldie Hawn works the sh*t out of this role. There are occasions in movies when Goldie Hawn is better than bubbly; she fascinates (particularly in Everyone Says I Love You). She's a versatile and commanding comic actress who isn't just shooting a hopeless Laugh-In side-eye. She's confident and enchanting and kind of scary, not to mention marvelously assured with tough dialogue. I love her work at the beginning of Death Becomes Her when she's confined to a fatsuit, tuckered into an easy chair, and replaying death scene footage from an old Madeline horror movie to make herself feel better. Her heavy makeup practically barricades her from the audience, but she still transmits deranged glee. You'd be hard-pressed to pick a victor between Meryl and Goldie here. They're both glamorous and homicidal as hell. It's like picking between the Menendez brothers.

3. Quotez

Shovel Showdown

Though there's enough memorable gesturing and eye-rolling in Death Becomes Her for the next few seasons of Project Runway judge consultations (I love when Meryl straightens in her chair and tries on a few expressions of feigned surprise before Helen ambushes her backstage), it's all about the legendary quotage in this film. For starters, Sydney Pollack's cameo appearance as a doctor who examines Meryl's strange condition -- a 180-degree head twist, for starters -- has a couple of fabulous moments. "The bone protrusion through the skin? That's not a good sign," he says. "Your body temperature is below 80, and your, your, your heart's stopped beating."

We've all gotten that diagnosis before. Whatever. My other favorite line in the film is when Meryl barks at a P.Y.T. named Anna. "Are you listening to me? Do you even care? You just stand there with your 22-year-old skin and your tits like rocks and laugh." Ahh! The phrase "tits like rocks" tumbles out of Meryl's mouth with such savory ease. She should record audiobooks of Janet Evanovich novels.

4. I'd like to imagine this is mostly candid footage of Isabella Rossellini

Eternal Youth

Isabella Rossellini is the outrageous sex god who supplies our dame duo with the magical, but enigmatic potion. Instead of wearing a shirt, she wears JEWELS. The reason: Of course. She also totes a sword in her waistband like a burlesque artist at the Renaissance Faire. Sure, I get it. Most importantly, she has a Louise Brooks haircut, eye-popping Red Sonja attire, and a hot man-slave. I'm signed on! With the possible exception of her role on 30 Rock as Jack Donaghy's patrician ex-wife who shares ownership of an Arby's franchise ("You know I love my big beef and cheddar!"), Isabella Rossellini has never been more divine. I only wish we could've seen more of her character as the year's progressed. Is she still living in a gaudy McMansion powered by lightning? I'd tune into that HGTV series.

5. The perfect conclusion on a stairway to hell

Friends Forever

After we've seen so much carnage, destruction, evening gown warfare, worrisome Bruce Willis facial hair, and ourselves in Death Becomes Her, the movie hammers us with a flawless finale: Madeline and Helen, in their disfigured, claymation bodies, totter out of Bruce Willis' funeral after he's left behind a wonderful legacy. They're childish and loud, and we discover that their faces are practically drawn on with Crayola Washables. They've destroyed themselves with immortality. And then they destroy themselves by falling down a tremendous flight of stairs (still a gruesome sight I'm not used to, even if it's cartoonishly rendered here) and crash into smithereens for what is probably the 5,000th time that year. Goldie deadpans, "Do you remember where you parked the car?"

It's poetically satisfying that these two plasticine goddesses would end up forced into an eternal friendship. It's like a Jacqueline Susann rewrite of Ethan Frome or something.

Do you have a favorite part of Death Becomes Her? Is it perhaps Meryl's greatest performance that wasn't nominated for an Oscar? I want to hear from you Defending Your Life defenders.