Call Jane, 2022.
Directed by Phyllis Nagy.
Starring Elizabeth Banks, Sigourney Weaver, Chris Messina, Wunmi Mosaku, Kate Mara, Cory Michael Smith, Grace Edwards, John Magaro, Aida Turturro, Emily Creighton, Gina Jun, Rebecca Henderson, Bianca D’Ambrosio, Evangeline Young, Kristina Harrison, Alison Jaye, Kayla Foster, John Rothman, Bruce MacVittie, Maia Scalia, and Geoffrey Cantor.
SYNOPSIS:
A married woman with an unwanted pregnancy lives in a time in America where she can’t get a legal abortion and works with a group of suburban women to find help.
There is no doubt that director Phyllis Nagy made Call Jane with noble intentions. Abortion stories are as important as ever, considering current legislation attacking women’s rights, but it’s also possible to care so much about that movement and what it was like in 1968 that a narrative loses all sense of focus. It’s a film that wants to touch upon the Janes (a women’s liberation group conducting illegal abortions) from every aspect, also under the misguided approach of one close-minded woman’s journey from enlightenment to activist to uncomplicated can-do-no-wrong savior.
Suburban mom Joy (Elizabeth Banks) is married to lawyer Will (Chris Messina) and pregnant with her second child. She also has a congenital heart defect cutting her chances of surviving the pregnancy in half, and a conservative-minded husband who seems to disapprove of therapeutic abortion. After some contemplation, Joy secretly goes off and finds the Janes, forking over the required $600 for the abortion performed by the group’s only man and doctor, Dean (Cory Michael Smith).
Much to Joy’s surprise, she is still contacted and encouraged to find other women in need of abortions. At first, Joy is apprehensive. She then becomes offended when a young woman mentions that her abortion is from a fling with a married man (who routinely takes advantage of her naivety). A few minutes later, her eyes are opened, and everyone is on the same page. That sums up Call Jane, which shockingly becomes disinterested in the side effects and the psychological state of Joy from her own abortion, to paddle along as an exhausting series of repetitive lessons for a privileged white woman.
The script from Hayley Schore and Roshan Sethi takes a lighthearted approach that never gels, considering the seriousness and emotional weight of the subject material. It’s more concerned with Joy stealthily covering her tracks and avoiding suspicion from her husband and teenage daughter (Grace Edwards) rather than the Janes or digging deep into the complex discussions they must have at every meeting to figure out who they are going to help and how they can allocate abortions across each week. The reason is that the film only sees those conversations as more opportunities to give Joy a teachable moment that’s perhaps serviceable for a high school education or made-for-TV filmmaking (which everything about this project screams), but not thoughtful insight.
Once Joy earns much trust, she is also allowed to meet Janes’ leader Virginia (Sigourney Weaver), who delivers most of these lessons. At least until Joy becomes ambitious and comes up with ideas to grow the operation they have, which includes learning how to perform abortions themselves. There are genuinely pressing matters here, such as how to choose who needs an abortion most and how to ensure justice is being done to lesser fortunate communities, but it’s all so perfunctory and bland with no drama or weight behind it.
It’s also hard to find an aggressively terrible aspect of Call Jane; the performances are solid (Elizabeth Banks believably sells her character arc, and Sigourney Weaver is fiercely impassioned about providing this support), it’s tolerable, and it’s undeniably important to demonstrate some of this on-screen considering the pre-Roe v Wade times have circled right back around to the present. But the film also feels like it’s congratulating itself simply for doing those things without offering anything remotely deep or substantial.
Call Jane acknowledges all types of people and situations that would call for an abortion, never exploring any of them. I suppose that would cut into the time of the privileged white woman’s transformation from a side-eyeing suburban wife to a superhero activist that solved every dilemma overnight.
Flickering Myth Rating – Film: ★ ★ / Movie: ★ ★
Robert Kojder is a member of the Chicago Film Critics Association and the Critics Choice Association. He is also the Flickering Myth Reviews Editor. Check here for new reviews, follow my Twitter or Letterboxd, or email me at MetalGearSolid719@gmail.com
