Erin Brockovich

ERIN BROCKOVICH

Rating: C+
Erin Brockovich draws upon the factual case of 648 residents of the town of Hinkley, California who suffered high incidences of cancer and respiratory ailments as a direct result of contamination of their water supply. The events were all the more tragic because the company involved, Pacific Gas & Electric, knew about the contamination for years and purposely did nothing about it. If this all sounds strangely familiar, you're probably remembering the 1998 film A Civil Action, which detailed the high rates of leukemia in a town in Massachusetts due to industrial contamination of the local well water. There certainly is no shortage of such cases; at last count the EPA had identified approximately 360 sites nationwide where water supplies had become contaminated by toxic waste. The Hinkley case is only particularly notable because it resulted in a record 333 million dollar settlement against the offending company.

Julia Roberts portrays the title character, a twice-divorced mother of three who was instrumental in gathering research for the case while employed by one of the attorneys involved. But far from being the innocent victim of circumstances that the film tries to pretend, she is largely the cause of her own problems. She insists on exercising her inalienable right to dress like a hooker, then gets miffed when people don't respect her. Then she throws a hissy fit every time she doesn't get her way. The film wants us to believe she's deeply concerned for the welfare of the citizens of Hinkley, but more often than not, her complaints are self-centered - whether she's whining about not getting the respect she feels she deserves, or whining about being pushed out of the limelight when another legal firm is hired to assist in the case. Whatever the complaint, it's always about her. And although boss Albert Finney chides her several times about her unprofessional behavior, she never apologizes or acknowledges she was wrong. I guess we're supposed to regard her childishness as cute. So basically she can't work without becoming overly emotional about it, she can't keep her family life from interfering with her work life and vice-versa, and she dresses unprofessionally. In short, her character acts to reaffirm every stereotype that working women have been striving to eliminate. And she ultimately gets lavishly rewarded for it. What exactly is this film trying to tell us?

The scene where Roberts pontificates about how the victimized families don't want to become rich, they just want their children to grow up in an environment which won't kill them, is straight out of A Civil Action. So much so that it probably would've been easier just to splice in Kathleen Quinlan's virtually identical speech rather than having to go through the headache of filming the whole thing all over again. Likewise, the relationship between Roberts and Finney is standard government issue. She's an impetuous young woman bent on seeing justice done, and the rules be damned if they get in her way. He's a cranky but pragmatic old codger who initially dislikes her presumptive attitude but eventually warms to her. The chemistry often does work between them, and some of their exchanges are funny, but the whole shtick has been done many times before, in True Grit among other films. It's okay to like it, but don't let me catch you saying it's original.

When scriptwriter Susannah Grant isn't busy resurrecting hackneyed characters or plagiarizing other movies, she really gets into trouble. In one scene, Roberts is comforting a woman who just found out she has cancer. The woman tearfully inquires whether she'll still be a woman after her uterus and breasts are removed. Whereupon Roberts quips that things will be even better then since she'll no longer have to worry about maxi-pads and underwires. Instead of throwing a right uppercut, the woman breaks into an appreciative laugh. Of course it's early yet, but this could possibly be the stupidest exchange of dialogue of the new millenium.

Then there's the rather prejudicial attitude this film takes toward women in the corporate world. Although being "politically correct" isn't one of my strong points, I couldn't help noticing this film hates career women. Whenever the lawyers for PG&E are onscreen, they're portrayed in an unflattering light. After all, they are the bad guys. But the strange thing is that although there are two men and one woman representing PG&E, in every scene the camera scornfully focuses on the woman. Even worse, a female attorney on Brockovich's side is not only treated cruelly in every scene by Julia Roberts, but also by the film itself, as if merely being a female in the business world automatically makes her deserving of abuse. The first time they meet, the lawyer politely informs Roberts that they'll need to expand upon her research of the 600 some-odd victims. As Roberts goes into one of her bitch fits, the lawyer cites as an example that some individuals' phone numbers aren't included in the files. Whereupon Roberts, striking fear in the hearts of Rolodex manufacturers everywhere, huffily begins reciting the phone numbers from memory. See, she's not really a dumb slut, she just dresses like one. And can you believe the gall of that lawyer to ask that those phone numbers actually be written down?

One of the problems inherent in movies like this is the temptation to portray a favorable monetary award as a happy ending, as if any sum of money could ever make up for the lives that were irreparably destroyed by the events. From the point of view of the filmmakers, of course, they have little alternative, but Erin Brockovich commits the sin to excess. When Roberts is handed a two million dollar check at the film's end, I suspect that's our cue to cheer. But I couldn't help thinking that in that one scene the movie undermined everything it supposedly stood for. Never mind about the pain and suffering endured by all those people, or how much Roberts was supposedly concerned for their welfare, what it all comes down to at the end is she gets two million smackers for her efforts, and that's what made it all worthwhile. Speaking of which, if I was cynical I might ask if Roberts and the rest of the filmmakers are going to donate the vast monetary hoards they amass from this movie to efforts to clean up the nation's water supplies, or some similar cause. After all, they just spent over two hours telling us how deeply they care about these tragic events, so surely it would be fitting to make such a noble gesture, wouldn't it? I mean, keeping the money would be akin to profiting off the misfortunes of their subjects, right? RIGHT? Fortunately, I'm not cynical...