Cause of Death: During the time when a group of states were enacting draconian abortion laws, I wanted to write an article to denounce them, while still sticking to a think piece about movies. So I thought of this HBO movie about abortion that's still relevant today. My editor and I couldn't find a common ground as to the delicate approach to this subject, especially since it was being written and edited by men. We went through three drafts, but it was eventually killed because the process was taking too much time. All of the drafts have issues, in my opinion, so I'm posting the first draft, which I think best represents my intentions.
This isn’t going to be one of those wishy-washy articles about the “complexity” of the abortion issue, trying to look evenly on both sides of the argument. With barbaric anti-abortion laws designed solely to control women’s freedom and bodily autonomy being passed in states like Georgia, Ohio, Mississippi, Kentucky, and Alabama, it’s more imperative than ever for everyone to take a clear stand in this fight. My personal opinions on the matter can be summed up through two great comedy bits. First, is Bill Hicks’ view on pro-lifers: “Some of my friends think these pro-life people are annoying idiots. Other friends think they’re evil fucks. Let’s join hands and think of them as evil-annoying-idiot-fucks.”
Second is the hypocrisy of the pro-life movement as summarized by George Carlin: “Pro-life conservatives are obsessed with the fetus from conception to nine months. After that, they don't want to know about you. They don't want to hear from you. No nothing. No neonatal care, no day care, no head start, no school lunch, no food stamps, no welfare, no nothing. If you're preborn, you're fine; if you're preschool, you're fucked… They're not pro-life. You know what they are? They're anti-woman. Simple as it gets, anti-woman. They don't like them. They don't like women. They believe a woman's primary role is to function as a brood mare for the state.”
This is such a hot-button issue, that mainstream American cinema has been scared of even mentioning it. Meanwhile, films from countries where abortion is illegal tackle the debate with utmost bravery and raw intensity, like Christian Mingiu’s 4 Months, 3 Weeks, and 2 Days and Myroslav Slaboshpytskyi’s The Tribe. Not talking about abortion in any way is such an unwritten rule in Hollywood, that Judd Apatow poked fun at it in Knocked Up, having Jonah Hill’s character practically break the fourth wall to tell Seth Rogen that he can’t say the actual word, so he substitutes it with “Schmerschmortion”. This invisible line has been crossed during recent years, with mostly female comedians depicting the nuances of the issue in a levelheaded and respectful way, like the Jenny Slate sleeper Obvious Child, and episodes of Crazy Ex-Girlfriend and Shrill.
Yet it’s still tough to find a drama about abortion, so much so that we have to turn our gaze to a made-for-HBO movie from 1996 called If These Walls Could Talk. This tautly executed melodrama is a strictly issue-driven anthology film that tells the stories of three different women who lived in the same suburban house across three different periods of the 20th Century, who each deal with tough decisions and tragic circumstances regarding their unwanted pregnancies. Getting this project even to the small screen wasn’t an easy task. As executive producer, Demi Moore tried for seven years to get it off the ground. Predictably, no major studio would touch it, until HBO decided to give it a fairly meager budget and released it on their network. The result was the most-watched HBO movie up to that point and four Emmy nominations.
If These Walls Could Talk begins with a credits montage using real-life news footage about the abortion debate from then-contemporary 1996 to 1952, when the first story takes place. The point is obviously to show how little both sides have budged on the issue over many decades and how backwards the culture surrounding it became as we slide back in time. This sequence is made even more poignant and depressing by the fact that with another twenty-three years added to the film’s production, we’re mirroring it in the opposite direction, going backwards as time moves forwards. That’s what makes the 1952 story that much more important today, since we can easily find ourselves back there sooner than we think.
In this harrowing tale of what happens to women who are desperate to terminate a pregnancy when abortion is illegal, Demi Moore plays a nurse named Claire. She recently lost her husband and, in a vulnerable moment of trying to deal with her grief, slept with her brother-in-law (Jason London). Pregnant from the one-time act, Claire understandably cannot bring herself to give birth, so she awkwardly asks around for ways to terminate the pregnancy. She first goes to her doctor, who basically tells her that she should have thought about this before opening her legs, representing the always-reliable slut shaming that “compassionate” pro-lifers love to bring up as if it’s a viable argument. It’s like fire fighters showing up to your house on fire; say “I guess you’re fucked”, then leave without doing anything.
Claire is in such a frantic state of mind that she takes random pills with the “Do not take if pregnant” label, hoping they will induce a miscarriage. Predictably, they only manage to make her sick. Thankfully, a fellow nurse (CCH Pounder) puts her job on the line by giving Claire the number of a woman (Phyllis Lyons) who can arrange abortions. The safest option is in Puerto Rico, which will cost her a thousand dollars –ten thousand today-, which she doesn’t have. This scene brings up the painful point that anti-abortion laws will mostly hurt poor and disenfranchised women. The –mostly white- men who enact these laws aren’t worried about how their lives will be affected by it, since they’ll always be able to afford illegal, safe, and expensive abortions for their mistresses.
Claire’s contact then comes up with an alternative: There’s a local guy (Aaron Lustig) who performs in-house abortions for four hundred, but it’s riskier than Puerto Rico. When asked why the guy needs Claire’s work number as well as her home number, her contact states that he needs to get in touch with her however he can because he’s “very busy”. This quick line that can be easily missed carries a gut-punch of a vital detail: Claire’s case is far from a rare one. In the event of abortions being made illegal, the amount of women who seek them will not decrease, and there will always be a high demand for it. Director Nancy Savoca wisely constructs an astoundingly matter-of-fact depiction of Claire’s abortion, followed by easily the most upsetting shot in the film, made all the more traumatizing by the thought that my five-year-old daughter might be in her place in the future.
The 1974 segment has lower stakes, thanks to abortion now being legal. Sissy Spacek is Barbara, the overwhelmed mother of three who finds out that she’s pregnant with a fourth. The family can’t afford a new child, and Barbara isn’t even sure she wants to give birth. Her hippie daughter (Hedy Burress) wants her to terminate the pregnancy, especially since the cost of the new kid could result in her not being able to go to college. Barbara consults her friend (Joanna Gleason) who had an abortion, who tells her that she never regretted the decision, a result most women share. But of course, it’s Barbara’s choice to make. A superficial read of this short’s ending might make it look like the film has taken a sudden 180 turn from the first segment and is now applying a pro-life stance. What it actually does is to hammer home the reason why the movement is called “pro-choice” and not “pro-abortion”. Regardless of whether or not society thinks any particular pregnancy should be kept or aborted, at the end of the day, it’s the individual woman’s choice. This short, directed once again by Nancy Savoca, succinctly makes this point without any judgment.
The third and final segment brings us to the then-present year of 1996. Anne Heche is the college student Christine. She struggles with whether or not to end her pregnancy caused by an affair with her married professor (Craig T. Nelson), who gives her money for the procedure and immediately fucks off out of her life like one of those cartoons where only the dusty silhouette of the character is left behind. When uncomfortably talking about terminating the pregnancy to an abortion clinic nurse, Christine meekly questions why the professor gets to go on with his life while she’s left to deal with this trauma. This brings up another hypocrisy of the pro-life stance, which puts the entire responsibility on the woman’s shoulders, when it takes two to tango.
Raised in a strict catholic family, Christine can’t figure out how to handle this situation. Her strictly pro-life best friend (Jada Pinkett Smith) threatening to cut all ties with her if she goes along with the procedure, as well as pro-life protestors who harass her outside the clinic, don’t make things easier on her. Eventually, she makes her decision, which leads us to the short’s heavy-handed conclusion. The 1996 segment is the weakest link in the anthology. It was directed by Cher, who also plays an abortion doctor, and there’s a reason why she never helmed another fictional project before or since. Trying to emulate the indie aesthetic of the time, she relies too heavily on “edgy” steadicam and handheld shots, and directs her actors as mouthpieces for the on-the-nose dialogue, stripping most nuance from the material –If you think Matthew Lillard overacted in Scream, check him out here-. Regardless, it still manages to capture the contemporary fervor around the issue.
If These Walls Could Talk spawned a sequel, this time dealing with Lesbian relationships across three periods. The first film isn’t a masterpiece by any means, but does a good job of covering various aspects of the abortion issue in a potent and tightly paced manner. And unfortunately, it’s the only dramatic example we can point to so far. Hopefully, as the clock keeps running backwards for women, Hollywood will grow some balls and take a stance in the future.
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