In Phyllis Nagy's Joy (Elizabeth Banks) is a 1960s housewife married to a defense attorney (Chris Messina) with a teenage daughter (Grace Edwards) and a baby on the way. A heart condition, though, threatens her life in childbirth. The only treatment, her doctor tells her, is 鈥渢o not be pregnant.鈥
When they, acting on the doctor's advice, appeal to the hospital's board for permission to conduct a therapeutic termination, this critical moment in Joy's life passes curtly. The all-male board members discuss it briefly while not acknowledging Joy, across the table. 鈥淣o regard for her mother?鈥 she asks. Their votes sound the answer. 鈥淣o." 鈥淣o." 鈥淣o."
鈥淐all Jane," which opens in theaters Friday, is set more than 50 years ago but it could hardly be more up-to-the-minute. Following the Supreme Court's , abortion 鈥 which as between 鈥渁 woman, her doctor and local political leaders鈥 鈥 is again a hotly debated issue in upcoming elections.
Nagy, the screenwriter of Todd Haynes' radiant '50s-set 2015 drama again illustrates how the past can illuminate the present. 鈥淐all Jane," made before the end of Roe v. Wade but when its future was increasingly precarious, dramatizes the Jane Collective, a Chicago network of women activists who in the years before legalized abortion, clandestinely helped other women obtain safe abortions.
鈥淐all Jane鈥 is just one of the films about abortion rights that by happenstance have debuted this year. about a young woman in 1963 France, remains one of 2022's standouts. Tia Lessin and Emma Pildes' HBO documentary grippingly recalled the Jane Collective, with colorful reflections from the women who helped run it.
鈥淐all Jane,鈥 the glossiest of the bunch, lacks the vivid detail of 鈥淭he Janes鈥 or the riveting visual intimacy of Diwan鈥檚 movie. But all three films bear an of-the-moment urgency and a deep sense of empathy for the adversities faced by women whose choice has been taken from them. 鈥淐all Jane鈥 distinguishes itself as a stirring portrait of the birth of an unlikely abortion-rights activist.
Banks, always good but especially strong here, plays a woman who looks more 鈥50s than 鈥60s. But she is slowly awakening to the changing times. In the opening scene, she walks through an elegant hotel lobby with sumptuous music playing 鈥 a moment that would fit right in in 鈥淐arol鈥 鈥 only to be struck at the raucous sound of women protesting outside. 鈥淵ou can feel a shifting current,鈥 she tells her husband.
Their family life is traditional, loving and 鈥 aside from a Velvet Underground record 鈥 conservative. Centering the story on a straight-and-narrow character like Joy is, itself, a reminder of the wide spectrum of people who might one day reluctantly seek an abortion. Joy's options, initially, are terrible. 鈥淭here's always insanity,鈥 the doctor tells her. One woman suggests: 鈥淛ust fall down a staircase.鈥
It's a paper ad at a bus stop that brings Joy to Jane. After a hesitant phone call, she's brought to their offices by blindfold. But 鈥淐all Jane鈥 doesn't play up the covert aspect of the group's activities. Nagy instead stays focused on Joy's awakening to a wider world of female fellowship that's more frank about sex and its repercussions. Virginia (Sigourney Weaver) is the group's leader and a natural hippie foil to Joy. She calls Joy 鈥淛ackie O." Soon after Joy's own procedure, Virginia lures Joy into volunteering with the collective. At first, Joy isn't entirely convinced. One young woman who comes to Jane is having unprotected sex with a married man, Joy is appalled to learn. But Virginia lays down the law: 鈥淲e help women. We don't ask any questions.鈥
鈥淐all Jane鈥 loosens up notably inside the collective, a varied group of women that includes a Black Power activist (Wunmi Mosaku) and a nun who fields phone calls (Aida Turturro). There may have been more possibilities here for the film, which spends a lot of time with the group's less valorous doctor (Cory Michael Smith), who performs the procedures. But that, too, becomes part of Joy's storyline, as she gets more and more deeply involved with Jane. For Joy, it's more than a cause. For the first time, she realizing her own power.
There are probably many more stories that could be told about the Jane collective, which facilitated an estimated 12,000 abortions in the years before Roe v. Wade. But few know how to tease out threads of repression in a society like Nagy. The conventional approach of 鈥淐all Jane鈥 is a statement, itself. This could be anyone's story.
"Call Jane,鈥 a Roadside Attractions release, is rated R by the Motion Picture Association for some language and brief drug use. Running time: 121 minutes. Three stars out of four.
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Follow AP Film Writer Jake Coyle on Twitter at: http://twitter.com/jakecoyleAP
Jake Coyle, The Associated Press