"I Am Woman" by Unjoo Moon (2019)

Recently I complained about Shirley Jackson biopic that took too much freedom in describing its subject as a deranged, psychotic woman who spends most of the movie possessed by hallucinations or on the floor - while the movie was completely fictional, at least it was brave enough to move in different direction and the actors were visibly thrilled with chance to be unlikeable. Going in completely opposite direction, Helen Reddy biopic is sweetly toothless but ultimately safe (and therefore probably far more accessible to wide audiences) - it is very pleasant, but contrary to its subject, it does not create even a small ripple. It feels as a feel-good, Sunday afternoon TV movie.

Of course I am familiar with real Helen Reddy. I am old enough to remember that song and thanks to wonders like Spotify her complete back catalogue is now accessible more than ever before. Like majority of early 1970s stars, she eventually fell out of fashion but for a while she was unstoppable and rightly so - even to this day I find everything about her (her music, her voice, even her looks) very appealing and to me she belongs in that sacred trio Karen Carpenter-Helen Reddy-Anne Murray who marked the sound of the decade, their smooth, calm voices coming as a reaction to excesses of Woodstock.Yes, all three of them were considered hopelessly uncool because they were commercially successful - this is also era of the sweaty rock stars waving their guitars and being all very macho and serious - even though Janis Joplin broke the ice and showed that white girls can be as wild as the guys, nobody really followed in her footsteps. Judged by the prism of ageism, sexism and prejudiced snickering, girls had to find their own way - Reddy did it by sheer force of talent, intelligence and as we can see, a good timing.

It starts quite interesting: Reddy is 24 years old single mother who arrives in New York with her little daughter, as a winner of some Australian talent show and her prize is recording contract with U.S. company. Record executive is quick to dismiss wide-eyed Australian and told her they have absolutely no interest in girl singers because boys rock bands are all the rage - enjoy your stay and go back to Australia, see you later - they can't even be bothered to audition her or to even listen her voice. Reduced to perform in dingy lounges just to live hand to mouth, Reddy befriends witty journalist Lilian Roxon who is herself writing the very first Rock encyclopedia and two women witness the rise of feminist movement. For the sake of movie, Reddy is pushed around, her nostrils flaring from scene to scene, director hammering down the point that as a woman she is useless and pointless in a man's world (makes you wonder how any female artist did it, God knows they were around) - until eventually she gets a major break and becomes a superstar.

At this point the movie loses credibility for me. And here is why - it seems that director Unjoo Moon and her scriptwriters thought it would be good idea to explore this story trough the subject of feminist movement and how important was that millions of women found their voices trough Helen Reddy's music. So they approached the biopic with utmost respect and gingerly tiptoed around its subject who ends up more as idea than real person - people around her (Roxon, her husband, everybody else) are creatures of flesh and blood, while Reddy herself have surprisingly little to say - for the most of the movie she is surprisingly meek, mild and submissive. In fact, when the success finally comes, we see her as unhappy and moody but are never told why on Earth she is miserable now, after all isn't this what she always wanted? Earlier, we were treated with scenes of marital arguments between Reddy and her manager husband (quite good Evan Peters) where Reddy fiercely rejects the role of housewife and insist on fulfilling her professional ambitions - but once she is a major superstar, it looks like everybody else enjoys her success more than her. I believe the problem here was that movie was made about the real, living person and producers simply didn't know how to approach this without making Reddy a cardboard, quietly suffering wife who happens to sing a feminist anthem while privately living as a doormat. Movie also suggest that for all her strength, intelligence and talent, Reddy was creation of her manager husband who is chiefly responsible for her break - he was the one who aggressively bulldozed the way for her and without him she would still be at her kitchen table - once he is out of the picture, her career completely dwindles away and its just suggested "I don't sing anymore" - in reality, Reddy was middle-aged, strong and intelligent woman in a business that fed on young, nubile starlets and her moment in the spotlight had passed. 

For the sake of script, the movie suddenly changes focus and instead of explaining what Reddy meant to women and how she became personally involved with the movement, it became all about her failed marriage. Kind of "A Star Is Born" train wreck that we expected all along, because he is basically a Pygmalion who will build his wife as a major superstar but wants her to stay put. Before you know it, it becomes kitchen sink melodrama and its all about Reddy's private life, not about her music or what she meant. Tilda Cobham-Hervey is approximation of the real thing but never really close - she is too meek and mild, where real Reddy was charismatic and powerful. Even the voice for the soundtrack is not real but again a certain Chelsea Cullen who copies Reddy sound - it comes as very vague portrayal of Helen Reddy as idea more than a real person. I guess now I have to find her autobiography.