As a woman who has spent countless hours watching medical dramas and documentaries, I can confidently say that “Joy” is not your typical lab coat-wearing, microscope-peering film. It’s a heartwarming tale of perseverance, determination, and the power of science to change lives.
Building suspense from scenes of scientists studying petri dishes under microscopes can be challenging for director Ben Taylor in his depiction of the origins of in vitro fertilization. Despite being more engaging as a human drama than a scientific one, the film’s timeliness adds weight due to ongoing attempts by right-wing groups to restrict women’s reproductive rights and the recent Republican blockade of a bill safeguarding the right to IVF. These factors, combined with a strong cast, may attract viewers on Netflix, but those opposed to reproductive choice likely won’t be among them.
If a production seems like a movie but feels more akin to outdated television, the primary issue is likely due to Jack Thorne’s formulaic script. The writer models his work after British historical dramas such as ‘The Imitation Game’, using it to portray a groundbreaking 20th-century medical science advancement that brought hope to countless infertile women. However, the overused inspirational, true-story template gives ‘Joy’ a jerky pace reminiscent of the uneven progress in fertility treatment pioneering.
The team is assembled when Jean Purdy, who later becomes an embryologist after being a nurse, gets hired as a lab manager in the Department of Physiology at Cambridge and works under Robert Edwards. They make promising progress in the study of human fertilization during the late ’60s, eventually sharing their results with Patrick Steptoe, a doctor specializing in obstetrics and gynecology who was somewhat shunned by the British medical community due to his advocacy for laparoscopy at that time.
Initially, Patrick is grumpy and turns down their proposals, but Bob and Jean manage to persuade him with their strong convictions about the project and intriguing preliminary research. They decide to establish their operations in an unused wing of Oldham General Hospital, which is four hours away from Cambridge. Patrick cautions them that they will face opposition from the Church, government, and the world at large. However, Bob responds by saying, “But we’ll have the support of the mothers.
With each step taken in the project, the three distinct personalities – including Matron, the efficient and straightforward senior nurse played by Tanya Moodie – begin to establish a smoothly functioning work dynamic.
Instead of dispersing the attention, the narrative gradually zeroes in on Jean as the main character. A devout Christian woman, Jean experiences estrangement from her caring mother Gladys (portrayed by Joanna Scanlan) when she persists in her contentious work. It’s disclosed that Jean harbors a private interest in matters pertaining to women’s fertility. This aspect gains significance when an unexpected romance with lab colleague Arun (Rish Shah) from Cambridge blossoms, leading him to propose and express his desire to start a family.
One delightful aspect of the film involves Jean’s interactions with an eclectic band of females joining the experiment, who eventually create a bond during their hospital visits. At first, Jean’s approach towards them while giving routine hormone injections appears impersonal and professional – similar to her past agreement with Arun for sex without emotional entanglement.
In the Ovum Club, when a member kindly suggests Jean might improve her interpersonal skills, she swiftly becomes more approachable and soothes the other women. This is where Thorne’s screenplay displays profound empathy towards countless childless women longing for a baby, making the drama resonate with both human desire and scientific advancements. There’s a sense of melancholy too, as most participants understand they may not conceive themselves, but are building foundations for future mothers to succeed.
A heated discussion ensues at the Medical Research Council when they refuse to grant funding for development, stating that the research would primarily benefit a limited number of individuals. This leaves Jean, Bob, and Patrick exasperated as they struggle to help others understand that infertility can be treated.
Jean’s consistent pattern of making progress only to encounter setbacks eventually feels monotonous. However, upon learning that her long-estranged mother is near death, she decides to part ways with the group, deeming their efforts as futile and ending things on a bitter note with Bob. This, in turn, paves the way for the predictable resumption of work as Jean finds renewed motivation following the painful loss.
As we approach the climax of the story about the world’s first “test-tube birth” in 1978, a sense of tension and profound emotion arises. This is heightened by the revelation at the end of the film that more than 12 million babies have been born through IVF over the subsequent decades. Additionally, we discover that Edwards, the last surviving member of the team, was bestowed with the Nobel Prize for their groundbreaking work in 2010.
The narrative envelopes Bob’s letter, narrated in voiceover, advocating for Jean’s name on a hospital plaque honoring IVF pioneers. However, the script fails to explain, somewhat puzzlingly, the prolonged period where Purdy’s significant contributions were overlooked, likely because of her gender and the limited perception of her role as merely a lab technician.
The screenplay only subtly portrays the intense public backlash against the research team, as a few media outlets and protesters outside the hospital yelling “Dr. Frankenstein”, some graffiti, one instance of Jean receiving a hate-filled package, and a TV appearance where Bob is jeered by an enraged audience are not enough to convey a solid image of widespread opposition. A more impactful depiction is presented through Bob’s TV appearance where he encounters an angry studio audience.
Taylor, an accomplished TV director renowned for shows like “Catastrophe” and “Sex Education“, delivers a capable performance with his debut feature film. Despite some inconsistencies in the plot progression, it holds its ground. The movie relies heavily on Steven Price’s score for dramatic impact and an eclectic mix of ’60s and ’70s songs for vigor. The only instance where the music choices align thematically with the story’s conclusion is during Nina Simone’s beautiful rendition of “Here Comes the Sun” during the opening credits, which fittingly reflects the film’s final message.
Luckily, the actors carry the storyline. McKenzie skillfully contrasts Jean’s soft voice with her determination and honesty, subtly infusing a touch of sadness. Nighy delivers his signature subtle performance as an experienced medical professional, revealing his kind and caring persona beneath his formal demeanor; his impending retirement motivates him to make a significant impact. Norton, adorned with glasses and sporting Michael Caine’s old hairstyle, possesses the charm and authenticity required to convey Thorne’s often repetitive statements — “We’re turning the impossible into reality,” “Everything will change from now on.
In this narrative, Scanlan, portrayed as Jean’s mother, and Moodie, in her role as Matron, leave lasting impacts despite their minor parts. However, these characters aren’t immune to dramatic speech deliveries at times. For example, when Jean is dismayed upon discovering that Patrick has been carrying out abortions at the hospital – which were legal by then but still met with strong opposition from the Church – Matron forcefully declares: “We are here to offer women options. Every option.
Joy, while not boasting the highest level of intricate storytelling, offers a captivating tale drawn from historical anonymity. It is sure to strike a chord with numerous parents whose lives have undergone profound transformation – and in some cases, been made viable – through those arduous ten years dedicated to the IVF revolution.
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2024-10-15 23:55