Call Jane Review: A gripping, relevant drama

Call Jane has a habit of sneaking up on you. Director Phyllis Nagy’s new film is a reproductive rights drama that Thanks to the events of this year, has become far more relevant than anyone could have ever predicted it would become. Despite this fact Call Jane is a surprisingly low-key, often unsentimental drama that prefers to lull you into its rhythm before hitting you with the force of its greatest moments or, in the case of a harrowing abortion scene, its smallest details.

This approach becomes clear in Call Jane‘s first scene, which follows its protagonist Joy (Elizabeth Banks) as she quietly walks through the building where her husband Will (Chris Messina) is celebrating his recent promotion. The film’s camera follows Joy as she descends an escalator and then walks silently through the building’s ground floor to the entrance. Once outside, we’re surprised to see Joy standing behind an unwavering police cordon. In the distance, the singing gets louder and louder.

We never see the riot that inevitably erupts. Instead, we only see the silhouettes of bodies pressed against the frosted glass of the building’s front windows as Joy is hastily escorted back inside. As for openings Call JaneThe introductory sequence of proves to be an absolutely explosive introduction to a film that is concerned, among other things, with confronting the kind of painful and solemn truths that America’s political leaders would rather bury beneath the surface.

As his first scene states, Call Jane‘s protagonist lives a sheltered, traditional life often expected of 1960s American housewives like her. However, Joy’s world is turned upside down when she discovers she has a heart condition made worse by her own pregnancy. Joy is told that if she remains pregnant, she will very likely die, but her request for an emergency abortion is then summarily denied by the authorities at her local hospital. In response, Joy begins to look for a way to ensure a safe abortion procedure herself.

Her pursuit eventually leads to Joy’s first crossing paths with the Jane Collective, a woman-run underground network of women dedicated to providing women with illegal but safe abortions. Operating truly in America in the late 1960s and early ’70s, the collective is led by Virginia (Sigourney Weaver), a cool but poised feminist. The Collective provides Joy with the abortion she needs, but her relationship with the organization doesn’t end there.

Buoyed by the support and community the Janes offer, Joy becomes increasingly involved in her operation, even going so far as to form a relationship with the collective’s chosen doctor, Dean (Cory Michael Smith). In doing so, Joy opens the door for the Janes to become less dependent on Dean’s selfish, financially-driven perspective to give women access to safe abortions. From there, Joy begins a climb that never feels as daring or provocative as it should Call Jane keeps reminding us of the gaps Joy’s secret life with the Janes may leave between her, her husband and their teenage daughter Charlotte (Grace Edwards).

Despite the performances his female characters consistently deliver Call Jane‘s 121-minute runtime, the film’s plot unfolds in a way that at times feels disappointingly simple and predictable. The relevance of the film’s story is undeniable, but in its attempts to normalize an issue that deserves more candid and open discussion, Call Jane feels strangely hygienic and safe at the end. Joy’s transformation from a contented housewife to a feral activist goes largely unchallenged throughout the film Call Jane He occasionally feigns provocative detours and themes, but never fully deals with the thorns that linger at the edges of his story.

That’s not to say Call Jane does not tell his story competently or compellingly. The film, with the exception of a few dodgy sections in the second act, is a gripping and entertaining drama that moves at a brisk, upbeat pace throughout its story. As the film’s director, Nagy gets the best out of certain sequences Call Jane, including its impressive opening and the sequence where Banks’ Joy gets her abortion. The latter scene plays out at a patient pace that wisely forces the viewer to sit in the room with Joy as she struggles not to let her nerves get the better of her.

It’s at those moments, when Joy’s hardened exterior momentarily fades, that Banks’ performance shines brightest. Opposite her, Sigourney Weaver leans into her character’s chilled hippie vibe from the late 1960s, lending her an unwaveringly calm presence Call Jane this is the perfect counterbalance to the wild, proud energy present in Banks’ Joy. Aside from them, Wunmi Mosaku delivers another reliably memorable supporting role as Gwen, the only black member of the Jane collective.

Eventually, Call JaneThe impact of is slightly tempered by its own limited scope, as well as its disinterest in seriously investigating the darker side of its characters’ lives. That’s why it is Call Jane‘s opening scene, which seems to reflect the film itself best, which is dazzling and enthralling at parts, but remains content by only ever hinting at the harder aspects of its plot. The film’s vibrant, infectious energy combined with its inherent relevance makes it a worthwhile quest. Don’t be surprised if you’re disappointed, however, at how unconfrontationally the film brings to life a story that could have benefited if told with a little more attitude.

Call Jane is now playing in selected theaters.

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