There are a lot of films from the 1980s that tried to crack the code of teenage life — its absurdities, awkwardness, and desires. Most followed a familiar formula: high school cliques, coming-of-age lessons, a crush or two, and a prom night crescendo. Some faded with time. Others became cult classics. But nestled somewhere between Sixteen Candles and Fast Times at Ridgemont High lies a film that dared to do something a little different — and still managed to hit all the right notes.
That film is Just One of the Guys, a whip-smart, gender-bending teen comedy released in 1985, directed by Lisa Gottlieb and co-written by Dennis Feldman and Jeff Franklin. It’s frequently overlooked in discussions of the greatest ‘80s teen movies, but it shouldn’t be. This is a film that balances sharp social commentary with a sincere coming-of-age story, and it does so with style, humor, and a surprisingly progressive streak for its time.
The Premise That Flips the Script
At its heart, Just One of the Guys is a loose modern-day riff on Shakespeare’s Twelfth Night, disguised as a teen comedy. The film follows Terri Griffith (Joyce Hyser), a bright, ambitious high school senior who dreams of becoming a serious journalist. She’s attractive, confident, and smart — a triple threat. But when her article on gender bias in school journalism is passed over for a summer internship in favor of her less talented male peer, Terri comes to a bold conclusion: she wasn’t taken seriously because she’s a girl.
Her solution? She chops off her hair, trades her tank tops for oversized shirts and Ray-Bans, and enrolls at a rival high school — posing as a guy — to prove that her work will be judged more fairly if it comes from someone with a Y chromosome.
What follows is part undercover investigation, part identity crisis, and part romantic comedy — all wrapped up in an ‘80s teen movie package. But where many films of the genre stumble over tropes and stereotypes, Just One of the Guyschallenges them head-on.
Joyce Hyser’s Star-Making Performance
Much of what makes the film so effective rests on the shoulders of Joyce Hyser, who delivers a nuanced, funny, and heartfelt performance as Terri. Playing a teenager pretending to be a boy in a completely foreign environment is no easy task, especially in a genre that often leans toward caricature. But Hyser walks a tightrope of physical comedy, emotional sincerity, and social critique with grace.
As “Terry,” she awkwardly tries to emulate stereotypical male behavior — adjusting her crotch, talking in a lower register, learning how to “walk like a dude” — all while navigating high school from the other side. It’s clear from the beginning that Terri doesn’t fully understand the challenges boys face either, and that’s part of the brilliance of the movie: it reveals gender bias on both sides.
Hyser plays the dual roles with subtle differences. As Terri, she’s effortlessly charismatic. As Terry, she’s fumbling, wide-eyed, and trying not to blow her cover — but you’re never laughing at her. You’re laughing with her, because you understand exactly what she’s trying to do. This performance could’ve easily veered into slapstick or cliché, but Hyser keeps it grounded, human, and consistently watchable.
A Surprisingly Insightful Look at Gender and Identity
Just One of the Guys doesn’t just use gender-swapping as a gimmick — it actively interrogates it. The film takes aim at the double standards women face, particularly in male-dominated spaces like journalism, and the way appearance can shape perception. Terri’s experiment may begin as a way to prove a point, but it becomes something more layered: a journey of self-discovery, empathy, and growing awareness.
As she navigates her double life, Terri befriends Rick Morehouse (played by Clayton Rohner), a shy, sensitive outcast who’s bullied for not fitting the mold of “masculine” behavior. Rick’s character isn’t your standard love interest. He’s thoughtful, soft-spoken, and quietly complex. And his friendship with “Terry” is one of the film’s strongest emotional anchors.
Through Rick, Terri learns that guys are also pressured to conform to narrow definitions of gender. Just as she struggles to be seen as more than a pretty face, Rick struggles to be seen as worthy at all. Their relationship is touching — funny in its awkwardness, poignant in its quiet beats — and refreshingly devoid of the cynicism that colors many teen movie romances.
The gender-swapping conceit also leads to comedic gold, especially when it comes to romantic confusion. Terri finds herself pursued by a ditzy, flirtatious blonde named Sandy (Sherilyn Fenn, in a memorable supporting role), who’s smitten with the mysterious new guy. Meanwhile, Terri’s actual boyfriend, Kevin (Leigh McCloskey), grows increasingly suspicious of her absences, leading to some hilarious confrontations.
Yet the film never ridicules its characters for their desires. It pokes fun, yes — but always with affection, never cruelty. That tone of warmth and respect is rare in comedies of this era, and it gives the movie a timeless quality that transcends its shoulder pads and synth soundtrack.
Supporting Cast That Pops
In addition to Hyser and Rohner, the supporting cast of Just One of the Guys is full of memorable faces and standout performances. Terri’s younger brother Buddy (played by Billy Jacoby, now Billy Jayne) practically steals the movie with his hilarious, hormone-fueled antics. Obsessed with sex and smut, Buddy is the kind of teenage boy who reads Playboy“for the articles” and dispenses dubious advice like a pint-sized pickup artist. He’s the comic id to Terri’s idealism, and their sibling dynamic is genuinely funny and endearing.
Sandy, played by Sherilyn Fenn, is a delight — all soft-voiced seduction and wide-eyed confusion. Her scenes with “Terry” walk the line between sexy and surreal, and Fenn plays her with a daffy sweetness that avoids stereotype. Paul Carafotes, as Greg Tolan, the film’s resident bully and meathead, is pitch-perfect — all flexed biceps and fragile ego.
Even the minor characters — from lecherous teachers to overzealous jocks — are drawn with enough color and specificity to leave an impression. The film populates its world with exaggerated types, but it always feels grounded in something real.
Direction and Pacing That Hold Up
Director Lisa Gottlieb deserves more credit than she’s received for steering Just One of the Guys with such assurance. The pacing is crisp, the tone is consistent, and the balance between comedy and character is deftly handled. For a film that juggles romance, satire, and undercover intrigue, it never feels overstuffed. Each subplot, from the prom build-up to the eventual unmasking, is given room to breathe.
The film’s look is unmistakably ‘80s — all pastel blazers, teased bangs, and montage sequences — but it wears its aesthetic proudly. The cinematography by John McPherson gives the school scenes a soft, sunlit quality, and the LA locations (from high schools to fast food joints) feel lived-in and authentic. The soundtrack, full of era-appropriate synth-pop and rock anthems, complements the film’s energy without overwhelming it.
The Reveal Scene: An Iconic Moment
No review of Just One of the Guys would be complete without mentioning the film’s climactic reveal scene. It happens at the prom, naturally — that classic crucible of adolescent identity and longing. Terri, having fallen in love with Rick and tired of the lies, decides to come clean.
The moment she reveals her true identity — dramatically, unexpectedly, and yes, toplessly — is one of the boldest scenes in teen movie history. It’s shocking not for its nudity, but for its emotional honesty. This isn’t about titillation. It’s about vulnerability, about literally and metaphorically exposing oneself in order to be seen.
Rick’s stunned reaction isn’t played for crude laughs. Instead, it’s tender, bewildered, and human. It encapsulates what the film does so well: taking a ridiculous premise and finding genuine emotional truth at its core.
A Film Ahead of Its Time
When you revisit Just One of the Guys today, what’s most surprising is how modern its themes feel. Long before conversations about gender identity and societal norms entered mainstream discourse, this film was exploring how rigid categories hurt everyone. It presents masculinity and femininity not as binaries, but as performances — things people are taught, expected to perform, and judged by.
Terri’s journey isn’t just about proving a point to her school or her teachers. It’s about realizing that identity is more complicated than clothes, posture, or who you’re allowed to kiss. In that sense, Just One of the Guys is as relevant today as it was in 1985 — maybe more so.
Why It Still Matters
In a sea of teen sex comedies that often objectified or stereotyped women, Just One of the Guys gave us a female protagonist with agency, intelligence, and humor. It let her be the hero of her own story, flawed and funny and brave. It tackled real issues — sexism, conformity, homophobia — without becoming preachy or heavy-handed.
It also reminded us that what makes someone “just one of the guys” — or “just one of the girls” — is more than outward appearances. It’s connection, empathy, and honesty. And it did all of that while delivering laughs, romance, and a killer prom scene.
Final Thoughts: A True Hidden Gem
Just One of the Guys might not have had the box office clout or cultural impact of some of its contemporaries, but it deserves a place among the best teen films of the 1980s. Smart without being smug, sexy without being sleazy, funny without being mean — it’s a film that punches above its weight.
If you’ve never seen it, now’s the time. And if you have, maybe it’s time for a rewatch. You might be surprised how well it holds up.
Final Grade: A−
Charming, funny, and way ahead of its time, Just One of the Guys is a teen comedy that actually has something to say — and says it with style, heart, and more than a few great one-liners.
