Erin
Brockovich
Rated
R, Opens Friday, March 17
The real Erin Brockovich
makes a cameo as a diner waitress.
Steven Soderbergh
returns with another film, just five months after releasing
The Limey.
Hollywood loves courtroom dramas, and from the number it
pumps out every year, it obviously thinks we do, too. The
form allows ample room for grandstanding, mystery and melodrama,
all designed to manipulate audiences into leaping out of
their seats at the movie's stirring climax and screaming
in unison, "Yeah!" But by now, we've seen these conventions
played out repeatedly. These days, courtroom dramas are
more often just tiresome, cliché-riddled movies that,
if you're lucky, might include a cool supporting actor to
keep you engaged.
Erin Brockovich is not one of those movies. Even
though it details a real-life lawsuit pitting simple folk
against a big, mean corporation, this clever picture abandons
the swelling music, the maudlin sentimentality, and, hell,
even the courtroom proceedings. Erin Brockovich is
also the latest Julia Roberts vehicle. Finding a successful
equation for this combination (a courtroom drama starring
Julia Roberts...) would be more than a surprise; it'd be
a miracle.
But Erin Brockovich has a hidden ringer. Though
you wouldn't know it from the trailers, where he goes unmentioned,
its director is none other than Steven Soderbergh--the guy
behind, among others, Out of Sight and sex, lies
and videotape, the guy who can slide and slither
into virtually any genre, manipulate its devices and leave
behind the mark of an auteur.
When Soderbergh signed on to direct such mainstream material
with the decidedly mainstream Roberts, some critics cried
sellout. They maybe should have waited to see the film first.
It's the director and the material, not Roberts, controlling
the movie. Though Roberts fills every minute of the film
with boobs, legs, lips and hair, Soderbergh knows perfectly
how to place her (imperfectly) within the frame. The director's
visual style favors jaunty, hand-held camera shots, clever
editing and a gritty, '70s-looking film stock. After the
first 10 minutes, you realize something that even the most
hardcore Roberts hater would be hard pressed not to admit:
It's impossible for her to screw this up; the material won't
let her.
When we first meet Erin Brockovich (Roberts), she's a twice-divorced,
uneducated, single mother of three with only $74 in the
bank. She bullies her way into a job at a small-potato law
firm run by the scruffy lawyer Ed Masry (Albert Finney).
Sporting an array of garish, revealing outfits (I don't
think there is one where you can't see what bra she's wearing)
and a saucy tongue, she becomes alienated, even feared,
by her co-workers. This is fine, as not going to lunch with
the girls gives her more time to work on a suspicious file
relating to a pro bono case the firm is handling. With intelligence,
perseverance and the exploitation of her ample bosom, she
miraculously gathers enough evidence and testimonials to
begin a major lawsuit against Pacific Gas & Electric,
a $28 billion company whose tainted water supply has seriously
harmed locals living near its facility. When she gets Masry
on board, the film fills out beautifully, twisting and turning
from drama to comedy with a casual aplomb absent from most
mainstream movies.
As director Cameron Crowe capitalized on Tom Cruise's cocky,
over-the-top persona in his great, misunderstood Jerry
Maguire, Soderbergh uses Roberts' movie-star smile,
body and charm to hilarious excess. He acknowledges that
audiences want to see her spilling out of a Wonderbra,
so he gives it to us, over and over again. After a while,
we--like the characters around Erin--become immune to her
outward appearance and instead look inside her character
to find a real vibrancy that's even more stimulating.
Erin Brockovich also subverts the manipulative,
crowd-pleasing David and Goliath story by making it a multidimensional
work of shifting tones. One minute you're disturbed by a
woman with cancer, the next you're laughing at Masry tripping
over files and spilling his coffee. The second you think
Erin's boyfriend (played by chameleon actor Aaron Eckhart)
is going to be the usual biker bad-ass protecting Erin from
potential danger, you realize he's just a lovable goofball
who acts more like Mr. Mom than an easy rider. The moment
you think you'll get sick of Roberts and her big-mouthed,
brave-woman speeches, you are once again laughing and inspired
by her comic timing. This isn't an earnest Sally Field holding
up a UNION sign in a sweaty factory, nor is it John Travolta
learning about his sensitive side in A Civil Action;
this is more like the very womanly but ball-busting Rosalind
Russell cracking wise and getting the scoop in His Girl
Friday. And like a lower-rent Russell and Cary Grant,
Roberts and Finney have a wonderful chemistry that is both
touching and hilarious. Both bring a shaggy dignity to their
loser status, both make sacrifices that could potentially
harm their families, and most important, both have more
brains and down-to-earth zest than any pinched suit in a
successful law office. In a role wonderfully written by
Susannah Grant, Roberts soars above anything else she's
ever done, and Finney dazzles us with his gruff sincerity.
Like Out of Sight, Soderbergh's first venture for
Universal Studios, there is nothing forced and nothing easy
in Erin Brockovich. It knows what kind of movie you
expect it to be, and then dances around those conventions
with a whip-smart sensibility. When Erin remarks to Masry
that being up against PG&E is "like David and what's-his-name,"
Masry replies with distinct Soderberghian wit and timing,
"This is like David and what's-his-name's whole fucking
family." Considering what they've pulled off, Soderbergh
and Roberts can probably relate.
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Willamette Week | originally
published March 15,
2000
|
