It’s hard to build dramatic momentum out of scientists hunched over microscopes peering at petri dishes. Indeed, director Ben Taylor struggles to clear that hurdle in his conventional but watchable enough account of the development of what became known as in vitro fertilization. While it’s more compelling as human drama than science, the film benefits from timeliness, given right-wing efforts to curb women’s reproductive freedoms and recent moves by Senate Republicans to block a bill protecting the right to IVF. That factor, plus the very capable cast, should help Joy find an audience on Netflix, though anti-choice extremists won’t be among them.

If the production looks and sounds like a movie but plays more like dated television, the fault lies mainly with Jack Thorne’s by-the-numbers script. The writer takes Brit historical dramas like The Imitation Game as his model to map a breakthrough in 20th century medical science that gave hope to countless women unable to conceive a child. But the stodgy familiarity of the inspirational, based-on-a-true-story template gives Joy a halting rhythm that echoes the stop-start progress of the fertility treatment pioneers.

That team is formed when Jean Purdy (Thomasin McKenzie), a nurse and future embryologist, is hired as a lab manager in the Department of Physiology at Cambridge, working under Robert Edwards (James Norton). After making initial headway with the study of human fertilization in the late ‘60s, they take their findings to obstetrician and gynecologist Patrick Steptoe (Bill Nighy), at that time considered something of a pariah by the British medical establishment for his championing of laparoscopy.

Patrick is crotchety and dismissive of their overtures at first, but Bob and Jean talk him around with their passionate belief in the project and intriguing early research. They agree to set up operations in a disused wing of Oldham General Hospital, a four-hour drive from Cambridge. Patrick warns them they will have the Church, the state and the whole world against them. “But we’ll have the mothers,” counters Bob.

As work on the project inches forward, the three dissimilar personalities — along with Muriel (Tanya Moodie), the brisk, no-nonsense senior nurse who insists on being addressed by her job title of Matron — gradually build a harmonious professional relationship.

But the focus tightens on Jean as the central figure. A churchgoing Christian cut off by her loving mother Gladys (Joanna Scanlan) when she refuses to abandon the controversial work, Jean is revealed to have a personal investment in women’s fertility issues. This becomes especially relevant for her when her unintended romance with Cambridge lab colleague Arun (Rish Shah) gets serious and he proposes, making it clear he’s eager to start a family.

One of the more enjoyable parts of the movie is Jean’s rapport with the disparate group of women signing up for the experiment, who forge a sense of community during their hospital visits. Jean’s manner of dealing with them as she administers regular hormone injections is detached and clinical at first — much like her earlier consent to have sex with Arun, on the condition that he form no attachment.

When a member of the Ovum Club, as they’ve dubbed themselves, points out that Jean could stand to work on her people skills, she immediately softens, learning to put the women at ease. It’s through those interactions that Thorne’s screenplay shows deep compassion for the many childless women yearning for a baby, grounding the drama in basic human need as much as science. There’s poignancy also in the participants’ knowledge that most of them will not get pregnant, but that they are laying the groundwork for future mothers who will.

A heated scene in which the Medical Research Council declines to provide development funding, arguing that the research will benefit only a small handful of the population, underscores Jean, Bob and Patrick’s frustration as they try to make people grasp the concept of infertility as a treatable condition.

The one-step-forward, two-steps-back pattern of positive results followed by disappointment becomes a bit static. But after Jean learns that her still estranged mother is dying, she breaks with the group, dismissing their efforts as a failure and parting on bitter terms with Bob. That allows for the inevitable resumption of work when stinging loss galvanizes Jean back into action.

The final stretch leading up to the first successful “test-tube birth” in 1978, acquires welcome notes of suspense and emotional power — the latter amplified by text at the end of the film revealing that 12 million babies have been born thanks to IVF in the decades since. We also learn that Edwards, the last surviving member of the team, was awarded the Nobel Prize for their work in 2010.

Thorne frames the story with Bob’s letter, heard in voiceover, lobbying for the inclusion of Jean’s name on a plaque at the hospital honoring the IVF pioneers. What the script doesn’t address, somewhat mystifyingly, is the decades during which Purdy’s vital contribution went unacknowledged, no doubt due to her gender and the reductive view of her role as that of a mere lab technician.

The screenplay also fails to make much of the public hostility directed at the research team. The handful of press and protestors outside the hospital shouting “Dr. Frankenstein,” a bit of graffiti and one instance in which Jean is shown receiving a hate-mail package don’t exactly solidify the idea of a wall of opposition. A TV appearance in which Bob is shouted down by an angry studio audience is more effective.

Taylor, a seasoned TV director best known for the streaming series Catastrophe and Sex Education, does a competent job with his sharp-looking first feature, even if the narrative flow is erratic. The movie leans heavily on Steven Price’s score for dramatic weight and on a very random selection of ‘60s and ‘70s needle drops for energy. Only Nina Simone’s gorgeous cover of “Here Comes the Sun” over the opening credits makes thematic sense in terms of the story’s ultimate outcome.

Fortunately, the actors lift the material. McKenzie creates an appealing contrast between Jean’s mousy voice and her grit and forthrightness, shaded with an understated vein of melancholy. Nighy brings his usual economy of means to a veteran medical professional whose formality gives way to reveal his warm, caring nature; Patrick’s approaching retirement age incentivizes him to make a difference. Norton, nerded out with glasses and Michael Caine’s old hair, has the charm and sincerity necessary to put across Thorne’s frequently hackneyed declarations — “We’re making the impossible possible,” “Everything changes from here.”

Scanlan as Jean’s mum and Moodie as Matron both make strong impressions, though even those smaller roles are not entirely spared moments of speechifying. For instance, when Jean is distressed to learn that Patrick has been performing abortions at the hospital — which were legal by that time but still strongly opposed by the Church — Matron thunders back: “We are here to give women a choice. Every choice.”

Joy may not represent the height of sophisticated storytelling, but it has the advantage of an interesting story rescued from historical obscurity. It will touch the hearts of many parents whose lives have been changed — and in the case of their children, made possible — by those ten long years of dedication that led to the IVF breakthrough.

Rumours, 2024.

Written and Directed by Evan Johnson, Galen Johnson, and Guy Maddin.
Starring Cate Blanchett, Roy Dupuis, Nikki Amuka-Bird, Charles Dance, Takehiro Hira, Denis Ménochet, Rolando Ravello, Zlatko Burić, and Alicia Vikander.

SYNOPSIS:

The leaders of seven wealthy democracies get lost in the woods while drafting a statement on a global crisis, facing danger as they attempt to find their way out.

Even those not well-versed in film or basic symbolism will get the point Rumours is making and be exhausted long before it’s over. That’s annoying enough, especially since the targets, world leaders getting together for a G7 meeting to collaborate on a statement regarding an unspecified global crisis, are already low-hanging fruit. Then writers/directors Evan Johnson, Galen Johnson, and Guy Maddin go a step further, bordering on insulting the viewers, having these world leaders waxing philosophical about how they are less than human and more stand-ins for various beliefs across the political spectrum, much like we aren’t getting to know characters but more so stand-ins for whatever punchline the script wants to make about each country’s leader.

The numerous jokes quickly run their course. However, making matters worse is that these global leaders don’t actually do much, and not much happens in the film, which is the grand joke here. These influential individuals come together and either vent about their romantic relationships, get sexually involved with each other, rant about things they can’t do anymore, bicker, or generally get caught up in their self-absorbed lives. Roughly halfway in, they are interrupted by reanimated masturbating corpses from thousands of years ago, which is naturally intended to be more funny than frightening but also gets old fast, considering there is no real threat being posed. It’s wacky, irreverent, and inspired, but the point of everything is made so bluntly that the film becomes a frustrating, sluggish watch.

The impressive ensemble, which consists of Cate Blanchett as Germany’s Hilda Orlmann, Charles Dance’s US President Edison Wolcott, France’s Sylvain Broulez (Denis Ménochet), British Prime Minister Cardosa Dewindt (Nikki Amuka-Bird), and others admittedly find some humor in the material and bounce dialogue off of each other well enough, but that also doesn’t salvage a film that goes on forever making a rather obvious point about the effectiveness, honesty, and morals of such world leaders.

Denis Ménochet probably shines the most here, possibly because he gets to work with the strangest material; he first encounters one of the zombies, then is unable to walk due to an inexplicable “leg injury,” and then finds himself locked into a hypnotized writing groove while being pushed around a dark forest in a wheelbarrow. Takehiro Hira’s Japanese leader, Tatsuro Iwasaki, also has amusing exchanges with everyone he interacts with, mostly from some of the uneducated, stupid questions he finds himself answering (there’s a funny one about Japanese fans.) 

Speaking of that forest, there are cheesy fog machines and moody lighting, also playing into the idea that this isn’t meant to be scary and that these global leaders are just terrified cowards incapable of dealing with any major crisis.  There is certainly nothing wrong with the film’s aesthetics or visuals, including a giant brain in the middle of the forest that Alica Vikander’s European leader, Celestine Sproul, has a mysterious connection to, conversing using an unknown language. The unabashed weirdness is welcome, but again, it doesn’t necessarily offset how broad and stale the jokes are at the expense of each country’s leader and the more prominent point being made about their uselessness. Rumours is taking the cheap, easy route for what could have been a terrific and scathing timely satire.

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

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=embed/playlist

“The show doesn’t go on because it’s ready,” Lorne Michaels, creator and producer of “Saturday Night Live,” once said. “It goes on because it’s 11:30.”

This same quote is also used to open director Jason Reitman’s new movie, “Saturday Night.” The film follows Michaels (Gabriel LaBelle), as he navigates the 90 minutes leading up to the first episode of “Saturday Night Live,” which aired Oct. 11, 1975.  

Throughout the film, the audience sees how things continuously go wrong for Michaels, as he deals with missing actors, sets falling apart and an overabundance of planned material sure to go past the show’s network-allotted time slot. 

John Papsideria, the film’s casting director, truly hit the nail on the head. Not only do the film’s cast members do a great job at portraying their real-life counterparts, but they physically resemble them as well, something often lost in biographical films.

This is best seen with Cory Michael Smith, who portrays comedian and actor Chevy Chase in the film. In fact, Smith portrays Chase so well it felt like it was really Chase on the big screen. 

Not only do the two actors look similar, but Smith executes Chase’s mannerisms perfectly. 

Chase is known for being a difficult actor to work with, especially regarding scandals involving racial slurs, physical altercations and aggressiveness — something “Saturday Night” touches on a bit. In a particular scene, Chase gets into a physical altercation with John Belushi (Matt Wood) over a hurtful comment Chase made about Belushi’s weight. 

Other familiar faces, including Rachel Sennott, Dylan O’Brien, J.K Simmons and Willem Dafoe, are also enjoyable to watch on the big screen. Each actor does a fantastic job at portraying the person they were tasked to play, depicting them in a light that contributes to the overall chaos of the story.

In the end, though, it’s LaBelle who truly steals the show. According to an article from Forbes, LaBelle spent considerable time preparing for his role as Michaels, and it shows.

“I watched the whole first season just to get an idea of the style of comedy, who the guest hosts were, and what would have been in their heads on that first night,” LaBelle said in the article. “I read a lot of books about how Lorne got to know everyone, formed the show, and what his earlier career was like to understand how these relationships developed.”

In the film, Michaels is conveyed as resilient, despite dealing with the chaos. However, the hectic atmosphere and disorganized situations are what make the film so fun to watch.

Another contributor to the movie’s immersiveness was its use of sound. For example, when tensions were rising in a scene, upbeat and rather unsettling music would play in the background of the scene.

In a particular scene, when Michaels’ cousin and assistant Neil Levy, portrayed by Andrew Barth Feldman, is stressed out about trying to find a missing actor, he is encouraged to take a hit of weed. As Levy continues walking around in search of the actor, the audience gets to see how the hit of this substance is affecting him. 

The audience begins to hear everything in slow motion, as if hearing Levy’s surroundings from his perspective. To top this stressful scene off, there is an uprising drumbeat playing in the background, adding to the buildup throughout the scene.

“Saturday Night” allows viewers to be completely enthralled with every event that happens throughout the movie, and with a cast of quirky personalities, the film leaves audiences wanting to see more of every character. Whether watching with friends or alone, it is impossible not to laugh out loud.

Rating: 4.5/5