Oscar Rush, part 2: North Country

A by-the-numbers drama starring a be-mulleted Charlize Theron, North Country isn't so much a movie as it is a two-hour public service announcement against sexual harassment.

This move isn't horrible, it's just generic, elevated by a fine cast and effective pacing. If you've seen the trailer, you know what happens, but the movie doesn't aim for unpredictability anyway (a good thing, since the story's plot points could be outlined in about five seconds). And it is somewhat disappointing coming from Niki Caro, who directed the fantastically original Whale Rider, a movie with an equally powerful female discrimination message in a much more exotic, creative milieu.

I can see why so many talented and well-meaning actors would want to work on this project. It's based on a true story about the first ever class action sexual harassment suit, a landmark achievement that would forever change the way businesses nationwide draft policies concerning equal rights. Set in northern Minnesota circa 1989, the story follows Josey (Best Actress Oscar nominee Theron), a single mother of two, who bravely stands alone amidst ridiculously escalating behavior from her male peers (including physical attacks, cum on a co-worker's clothes and shit smeared on their lockerroom walls). Management doesn't care and even her female co-workers (including Best Supporting Actress nominee Frances McDormand) turn their backs on her, afraid to lose the best job in town.

The whole story would be more effective if we got to know Josey more. She's a mother and a victim. That's about all I got. Oh, and she likes to drink and dance, two totally non-specific characteristics (every other female in the movie does, too). Theron does her best, but that basically means she's either about to cry, crying or just finished crying in every scene. When she's actually allowed to be a real person and make a mistake - lashing out at her teenage son who's abandoned her after she was publicly humiliated, only to cause another publicly humiliating scene herself - the scene is so sudden and powerful, it's unnerving.

If Josey was allowed to live and breathe spontaneously in her space, instead of just having to represent something, maybe this would be the updated Norma Rae it's trying to be. It feels more like Without Consent, a Very Important movie-of-the-week from 1994 starring Jennie Garth (sadly, still ignored by the Oscars) as a girl who's locked in a mental hospital and has to fight to assert her rights. There was an interview with Garth where she said she was proud of the movie because it was being shown to hospital staff as a learning tool (I swear I never saw the movie and don't, in fact, own several different copies of it stashed under my bed). So, too, could North Country be used as a learning tool for corporations to not be complete assholes to endangered employees. But shouldn't a movie be well-made in and of itself, beyond any important message?

I also couldn't help but wonder about Josey's reactions to the harassment. It is established that Glory (McDormand) does not get treated badly at all aside from the usual ribbing and wisecracks. Why doesn't Josey, I don't know...ask Glory about that? Maybe she could figure out why Glory is left alone while the others aren't. You could argue it's because Josey just happens to look like a 6' tall South African model and the other one looks like, well, Frances McDormand, but you would be wrong - Josey's female colleagues aren't all supermodels.

When the rushed, unconvincing final courtroom scene has finished (after Josey's co-workers all change their minds in about ten seconds), I felt...fine. It is, ultimately, an uplifting film. Obviously, what the real-life Josey and co-workers accomplished is nothing short of amazing: a cultural contribution based on equality that will affect generations long after they're gone. While North Country is movie-of-the-week adequate anchored by a strong leading lady, it's too bad those brave women didn't get a film that lived up to their own achievements.