Penny Marshall wasn't exactly looking to change the world. Honestly, she just wanted to do the work. If you grew up in the 70s or 80s, you probably knew her first as the fast-talking, milk-and-Pepsi-drinking Laverne DeFazio. But the shift she made from sitcom royalty to the director’s chair wasn't just a career pivot—it was a seismic shift for the entire film industry.
The weird thing is, she almost stumbled into it. After Laverne & Shirley wrapped, she wasn't getting the acting roles she wanted. So, she tried her hand at directing. Her brother, Garry Marshall, was already a titan in the field, but Penny found a voice that was entirely her own. It was a mix of blue-collar grit, intense sentimentality, and a refusal to be anything but genuine. When people talk about Penny Marshall directed movies, they’re usually talking about hits that defined a decade, even if they don't realize she was the one pulling the strings behind the camera.
Why "Big" Was Actually a Massive Risk
Think about the late 80s. High-concept comedies were everywhere, but they were mostly loud and broad. Then came Big in 1988. It sounds like a simple gag: a kid makes a wish at a carnival and wakes up as Tom Hanks. Easy, right?
Actually, the studio was nervous. They had seen other "body swap" movies like Vice Versa and 18 Again! struggle. But Penny focused on the loneliness of being a child in an adult’s world. She insisted on that iconic walking piano scene at FAO Schwarz, which was a nightmare to film because the actors actually had to learn how to play the thing with their feet.
It worked. Like, really worked.
Big became the first film directed by a woman to gross over $100 million at the domestic box office. That’s a stat people throw around a lot, but consider the context. In 1988, the "boys' club" of Hollywood was practically impenetrable. Marshall didn't just knock on the door; she blew it off the hinges with a story about a 12-year-old boy in a suit.
The Gritty Heart of "A League of Their Own"
If Big made her a power player, A League of Their Own (1992) made her a legend. This wasn't just a "girl power" movie. It was a period piece about the All-American Girls Professional Baseball League that refused to play nice.
Penny was notoriously tough on set. She didn't want the actresses to look like "movie stars" playing ball; she wanted them to be ballplayers. The bruises you see on the thighs of the actresses in the film? Those were real. Anne Ramsay actually broke her nose during a scene.
Marshall's brilliance here was the casting. You had Geena Davis at the top of her game, a relatively unknown Rosie O'Donnell, and Madonna—who Penny reportedly had to manage with a firm hand. And then there’s Tom Hanks as Jimmy Dugan. "There's no crying in baseball!" is a line everyone knows, but Penny directed that scene to be both hilarious and legitimately frustrating. She understood that for the stakes to matter, the comedy had to come from a place of desperation.
The movie ended up pulling in $132.4 million worldwide. More importantly, it preserved a piece of history that most Americans had completely forgotten.
When She Went Serious: Awakenings
People often forget that Penny Marshall directed Awakenings in 1990. It’s a complete 180 from her usual comedic fare. Starring Robin Williams and Robert De Niro, it’s based on Oliver Sacks' memoir about catatonic patients who are "brought back to life" by a new drug.
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It's a heavy, heartbreaking film.
Some critics at the time felt it was a bit too "sentimental," a charge Penny often faced. She didn't care. She famously said, "I like corny. I like what moves me." She leaned into the emotion because she believed that’s why people go to the movies. The Academy agreed, or at least respected the craft—the film was nominated for three Oscars, including Best Picture.
The Later Years and "Riding in Cars with Boys"
By the mid-90s, Penny was a hit machine, though not everything was a home run. Renaissance Man (1994) with Danny DeVito was a bit of a box office stumble, making only $24 million against a $40 million budget. It was a tough sell—a disgraced ad man teaching Shakespeare to Army recruits. Still, it’s got that classic Marshall heart.
Then there was The Preacher’s Wife in 1996. Getting Whitney Houston and Denzel Washington together was a massive coup. The production was a mess—snowstorms in New Jersey, accidents on set, and unseasonably warm weather in Maine that turned ice rinks into puddles. But Penny steered the ship. The soundtrack became the best-selling gospel album of all time.
Her final feature film, Riding in Cars with Boys (2001), is perhaps her most underrated work. Starring Drew Barrymore, it’s a messy, non-linear story about a teen mom trying to find her way. It’s gritty and honest in a way that feels very different from Big. Released shortly after 9/11, it got lost in the cultural shuffle, but it’s a masterclass in directing actors through decades of their characters' lives.
What People Get Wrong About Penny’s Style
The biggest misconception about Penny Marshall’s directing is that she was just a "comedy director."
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Sure, she knew how to time a joke. But if you look closely at her filmography, she was obsessed with outsiders.
- Josh Baskin is an outsider in the corporate world.
- The women of the AAGPBL are outsiders in professional sports.
- The patients in Awakenings are outsiders to life itself.
She had this "strange combination of fearlessness and massive insecurity," as she once put it. She didn't pretend to know everything about technical specs or lenses—she left that to her cinematographers. Her job was the human element. She was a "people person" who happened to be running a multimillion-dollar set.
Why Her Movies Still Work
We live in an era of CGI spectacles and "content" that feels like it was made by an algorithm. Penny's movies feel like they were made by a person who actually liked other people. They aren't perfect. They can be messy and, yeah, a little corny. But they are profoundly human.
If you’re looking to dive back into her work, don't just stick to the hits.
Actionable Insights for Your Watchlist:
- Watch "A League of Their Own" for the ensemble work. Pay attention to how she gives even the minor players (like the "All-the-way" Mae character) a distinct arc.
- Revisit "Big" but focus on the adult interactions. The way Penny directs Elizabeth Perkins and Tom Hanks is subtly brilliant—it’s a romance that shouldn't work, but she makes it feel innocent and tragic simultaneously.
- Find a copy of "Riding in Cars with Boys." It’s a gritty look at 1960s/70s motherhood that doesn't sugarcoat the regret.
- Look for her cameos. She popped up in her own films and her brother's films constantly. It's a fun "Where's Waldo" for film buffs.
Penny Marshall died in 2018, but her influence is everywhere. Every time you see a female director helming a massive blockbuster, there’s a direct line back to a woman from the Bronx who just wanted to tell a story that made her laugh and cry.
Stop scrolling and go put on A League of Their Own. It holds up. I promise.