At first rather annoying in its heavy emphasis on reenactments, this movie ultimately proves fascinating, simply because the complicated, highly dramatic tale it tells still almost defies belief.

It’s not bad or unwatchable but despite the amplitude of the spectacle, the end result is underwhelming.

An old-fashioned movie made with new-fashioned finesse.

There are moments in this movie where the great movie it could've been peek out... They're fleeting, here, but they're worth savoring, and they happen often enough to make it worth your while.

Even tho miss Ross is credited with the costumes designs for this film. The fashion show sequence was a ripoff. The kabuki gowns and her purple costume for the fountain scene were direct direct ripoffs from the famous and great ERTE. The late Russian artist. Her gold kabuki gown was horrid her design. The multi colored pleated gown was OK. But no earth shaker. The white Galitzan gown look terrible on her. She was to thin for that look. As a fashion picture this film has much to be desired. She did wear some nice things in the film. But not sure if she had a hand in those also. I know some designers like be difficult to work with. But her scene where she was berating the seamstress. Made me angry you get nothing from yelling at people who don't understand your language. I would have clocked her if she spoke to me that way. lol Evan Divas have to come down off the pedestals sometime.

This film is a must-see. Diana Ross is so beautiful in this film - mostly when she isn't modeling actually. Her bone structure, the eyes, the smile, and her own beautiful hair. She is the epitome of the fresh-faced idea. And her acting is effortless. She's funny, charming,endearing, and classic. The scene in the unemployment office with Billy Dee -- classic. And this is really a feminist story -- a woman who is constantly being controlled and limited who dares to want to be something -- a designer. Neither Billy, the politician and advocate nor the creepy Anthony Perkins as Svengali/Pygmalion photographer. She's his muse but he can't um RISE to the occasion. Only bad part to this film is when Tracy (Ross's character) seems to give in and become nothing but a helpmate to Billy Dee who doesn't care about her goals or dreams at all. This film is just a joy and the acting isn't bad nor is it as kitschy as people suggest. Sure Ross uses her own designs but so freakin what!!? Diana is just black beauty and this film really is her at her height and I don't care what a million negative reviewers say!

I took my Aunt to see a special screening of Billy Dee Williams new movie Constellation and we both we're crazy in love with the movie itself. I said I hadn't see black folks look glamorous until now and she rented Mahogony to watch with, because she said it was one of the few other films she could think of. She also had a big thing for Billy Dee.I really enjoyed Mahogony, it's got that whole 70's vibe going on (well, it was the 70's). Anyway, I could relate to Diania Ross's character (I guess not a whole lot has changed) and Billy Dee was...BILLY DEE. I enjoyed the whole mood and ambiance.

"And now, Mahogany presents…the Kabuki Finale!" This is the movie that made me want to be a fashion designer *and* a drag queen. Who else would be able to sit through this tripe? But if you're a designer *or* a drag queen, or at least play one on TV, this is *delectable* tripe. Just like in *Mommie Dearest* when you *know* you're looking into the heart of Joan Crawford, *Mahogany* makes you feel as if you're looking into the heart of Diana Ross. A vanity production to beat *all* vanity productions, Mr. Gordy showcases his star (who was also his lover, *and*, we now know, mother of his child) in her first non-singing film -- her only other film being *Lady Sings The Blues*. In this self-serving tale of the perils of stardom, Diana, as Tracy Chambers, scales the heights of the glamour and glitter of international high fashion and plummets directly into Bad-Movie-Hall-Of-Fame. Tracy is in school to be a fashion designer, and we know this because we see her riding the bus around town sketching big drag queen-y outfits. But one humiliating interview follows another (Diana *excels* in demonstrating humiliation – lots of teeth-gnashing and tossing her head), and life looks grim. Even the local neighborhood activist (this *is* the Seventies), played by the devastatingly handsome, but not deeply talented Billy Dee Williams, holds no charms for her. He wants to make the world a *better* place, and *she* just wants to make it a *prettier* place. Just when things seem hopeless, her job in the display department of a local department store puts her in the line of vision of a famous, but unstable fashion photographer, played to extreme by Anthony Perkins. Perkins mistakes Ross for a fashion model, and is smitten by her beauty *and* her commercial possibilities. He assigns her the name of Mahogany (since he names *all* of his women after inanimate objects), and she skyrockets, amidst *much* of Miss Ross' signature teeth gnashing, to the very pinnacle of the high-fashion scene. Unsatisfied with such superficial glory, and intent on furthering her own design career, Tracy/Mahogany slips one of her own designs into a fashion show she's modeling in. It is a hysterical, yet painful moment as the crowd falls silent and Mahogany is left on the stage and complete embarrassment. But the day is saved by an older Italian gentleman who becomes her lover and mentor. He bankrolls a design house for her, of course, and she scores another major success. This leads to a particularly favorite scene where Ross is in her element – as the prima donna couturierre, she parades through her workroom, issuing demands and dictums, and eventually becomes entirely unglued, shrieking and cursing at her workers, who, not speaking English, have no idea what she's carrying on about. This scene seems to sum up Ross herself, as so many in this movie do, and she is utterly delightful – but *not* in a pleasant way. Of course, it's inevitable that Mahogany will chuck her entire career in the trash and go home to Mr. Right, having learned her lesson about the ugly business of beautiful clothes, and the viewer sighs a sigh of palpable relief that this movie, this monument to egotism, has finally come to an end. Writing credits go to John Byrum and Bob Merrill. I don't imagine that they put this movie on their resumes.