THE STORY – Set in the 1960s and 1970s, a nurse (McKenzie), a visionary scientist (Norton), and an innovative surgeon (Nighy) work to develop the first “test-tube baby.”
THE CAST – Bill Nighy, Thomasin McKenzie, James Norton & Joanna Scanlan
THE TEAM – Ben Taylor (Director) & Jack Thorne (Writer)
THE RUNNING TIME – 115 minutes
Childbirth has been at the forefront of several significant releases this year. More specifically, the fears around pregnancy have crept from subtext into text in some films. The horrors of the likes of “The First Omen,” “Immaculate,” and “Alien: Romulus” have seized on increased unease around how women are expected by church, state, and society at large to carry their pregnancies. “Joy” seems calibrated to work in the opposite way to those more mainstream releases. Despite telling a true story that continues to impact people’s lives to this day, “Joy” is a film that feels small and cozy by comparison. Not that every film on this topic has to match Dea Kulumbegashvili’s “April” for intensity, but a little more bite could have allowed “Joy” to have more impact.
The coziness of “Joy” is set in place from the start, as the credits roll in accompanied by Nina Simone’s rendition of “Here Comes The Sun.” The credits are set against the backdrop of a human ovum being examined under a microscope. The joy of “Joy” lies in the very precise work being done at this cellular level. Many people remember Louise Brown as the world’s first child born through an in-vitro fertilization (IVF), but what “Joy” seeks to make clear is that a lot of work and sacrifice went into the making of the “test tube baby.”
The man spearheading the research into IVF is Dr. Robert Edwards (James Norton), whom we first meet in 1969, chasing an escaped mouse around his laboratory while trying to interview his new lab manager, Jean Purdy (Thomasin McKenzie). Despite the pair not being a romantic couple, the scene has all the hallmarks of a meet-cute, reflecting the script’s determination that things will not get too grim, no matter what heartbreaks might lie in store. Co-writers Rachel Mason and Jack Thorne deliver a plot that moves along steadily, racing through onscreen dates and key events like a Wikipedia summary.
The next key date is early 1970 when Edwards and Purdy seek to persuade Patrick Steptoe (Bill Nighy, a contrast to his character in the aforementioned “The First Omen“) to combine his advances in keyhole surgery with their work. Nighy’s lined face and graveled intonation bring a gravitas to “Joy” that his polished co-stars and environs cannot. Norton and McKenzie are solid in their parts, but both the cast and the production values are too slick to evoke the slow creeping dourness of 1970s Britain. Despite the solid period recreations, the overlit locations draw attention to their own artificiality. Edwards and Purdy’s research facilities are supposed to be run down, yet the green tiles and wooden desks pop in color. For a film dealing with curing infertility, “Joy” feels sterile.
While director Ben Taylor (making his feature debut) and DoP Jamie Cairney had to make the calls on how “Joy” looks and moves, the Netflix-funded film must hit beats that are beyond their control. The script is purpose-built to hit specific beats and convey its messages, but only in the most restrained ways. Purdy’s work comes into conflict with her religious faith and that of her mother (Joanna Scanlan), but the conflict becomes a minor impediment when it could be explored in a film of its own. When the hospital’s matron (Tanya Moodie) declares to Purdy that her primary motivation for her work is allowing women a choice, it comes across as an unearned statement of intent rather than a feasible emotion born of the moment. “Joy” is too brief and to the point to convey its own themes satisfactorily.
At its best, “Joy” commemorates the would-be mothers who took part in the IVF study but who didn’t get to become mothers. The backstories that encouraged the women to participate and Purdy’s reasons for her involvement are moving. “Joy” emphasizes that the study was one-of-a-kind, offering no guarantees. By the time July 1978 rolls around, and Louise Brown is ready to make her entrance (and history), “Joy” has located joy in the miracle that Edwards, Purdy, and Steptoe were able to make a reality. Yet, for all the joy it emphasizes, “Joy” isn’t memorable enough on its own terms to linger in the memory.