Funny how the stories that are like, the most consequential to the human experience are oftentimes the slowest ones to arrive in theaters, huh. I mean, did we as a culture really need to learn about Thanos and his movie-spanning, simmering plan to secure an esoteric bejeweled glove before learning about the real, of-consequence Ocean County, N.J., female detective who fought the New Jersey Board of Chosen Freeholders to see her pension benefits transferred to her mechanic-gf-turned-domestic partner after being diagnosed with terminal cancer?
I don’t think so.
Freeheld – the anticipated adaptation of the Oscar-winning 2007 short doc by the same name and the story of the plight of Det. Laurel Hester (Julianne Moore) and her better half, Stacie Andree (Ellen Page) – was announced five years ago. That is, five long years ago, when the erstwhile Juno first came on board to portray Andree and produce the film. Five years ago when this (still-worth-telling human) story wouldn’t have felt as thankfully dated as it does now.
Better late than never, I guess.
The film was written by Ron Nyswaner, the Academy Award-nominated screenwriter of Philadelphia, and directed by Peter Sollett (Nick & Norah’s Infinite Playlist), and much like life, it isn’t perfect. It is, however, a realistic view at how complicated it was to be gay or closeted, in Hester’s case, at work and in life just a little more than a decade ago.
Laurel and Stacie met in 2002, when the detective – who is shown to be both fearless and effective at her job, if stoically scratching the glass ceiling – ventures to Pennsylvania for a game of volleyball with other lesbians somewhat freely and to, yeah, try to meet someone special. She catches Stacie’s attention, and Stacie, youthfully emboldened by her attraction to an impressive woman 20 years her senior, takes it upon herself to hit on her.
It’s the sort of meet-cute that typically plays incredibly well in mainstream rom-coms, and one that, unfortch, lots o’ peeps will miss ’cause this ain’t that kind o’ movie, OK. It’s that other kind, and yet, the first act of Freeheld is confrontingly mundane in what we see (Laurel on the job; Laurel and Stacie moving in together a year later; the couple getting domestic-partnered some time after that) and features plenty of humorous beats that give it that realistic vibe. This is life. This was their life.
This could be your life.
This could be your life because just as the going was getting real good for L and S, something happened. As it would.
A creeping, advanced cancer was discovered in Laurel’s lungs, and, suddenly, her days with Stacie were numbered. Forced to step away from the force after 23 years of sterling service, Laurel puts on a brave face and begins treatment. And she also puts in a request to have her pension benefits go to Stacie when she dies. Although Laurel is showcased as strong, no-nonsense...fair, she asks, politely. And she gets a no, even though the legislature of the time was advanced enough that, y’ know, she could have gotten a yes from the get-go.
She gets two nos before she eventually gets a yes, and that journey, that victory, was, if I got it right, what influenced the path toward (marriage) equality in the Garden State – equality that finally arrived in 2003 and was later followed by all the great developments of the last few years. I parenthesize the phrase because Laurel, we are told, was not fighting for marriage equality but for equality, plain and simple. For the same justice she spent her life and career ensuring for her community.
The problem with Freeheld is it is just wildly ridden with clichés. Moore’s made to look like a tough-cookie cop from decades past and given Farrah waves that betray the fabulosity of Hester’s actual helmet of Jersey-blond-colored hair, while Page never ceases to rock a plaid.
The support, or lack-thereof, they encounter is either black or white, as exemplify by the folks that come into contact with them, like the realtor who turns out to be a disapprover of the pearl-clutching variety, or cartoon-like allies, like the one that Steve Carell portrays in a ripped-from-real-life thread. His Steven Goldstein, while essential to Laurel and Stacie’s case and valid to the film’s plot, doesn’t quite play on screen for anything other than laughs. For serious, his pushy “middle-class, Jewish homosexual from New Jersey” comes off a declawed cat, a harmless equality fighter that would make Larry Kramer squirm.
Alas, the film pretends to be not so much a thinking or history-altering piece but a tug at your heartstrings, and it succeeds in that effort. Its moments are all there (the meet-cute, the transformation of Laurel’s nicely portrayed-by-Michael Shannon partner, Det. Dane Wells, into a fully supportive friend and ally, the climatic, triumphant “courtroom” showdown), and they do what they do: they celebrate the power of the human spirit (especially when oh-so-nevertheless-gracefully brought to life by Moore & Co. – except for Carell, though, who simply reads like belongs in a different production).
That, in itself, is a clichéd thing to say, but...when in Jersey....
When death comes for Laurel, you will be invested, and you will cry (make sure to stay through the end credits to listen to the Miley Cyrus-sung “Hands of Love,” written by Linda Perry). Just try to remember to celebrate Laurel Hester, too, by getting more people to discover her and Stacie’s story.
The work has only just begun.
My Rating ***
Photo: Summit Entertainment.
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