A Long, Long Way To Go
fEminist Icon Helen Reddy gets her moment in the spotlight – and is sadly still bloody relevant.
I Am Woman
Director: Unjoo Moon • Writer: Emma Jensen
Starring: Tilda Cobham-Hervey, Evan Peters, Danielle Macdonald, Chris Parnell, Molly Broadstock
Australia • 1hr 56mins
Opens Hong Kong October 13 • IIB
Grade: B
In the opening frames of Unjoo Moon’s Helen Reddy biopic, I Am Woman, the young, budding singer (Tilda Cobham-Hervey in a breakout performance) arrives in New York in 1966 at an enthusiastic 24 years old, with her three-year-old daughter in tow. As she emerges from the Bronx subway station, a billboard advertising ketchup can be seen behind her, featuring a woman marvelling at the bottle’s new twist cap. “It’s so easy even I can do it!” In the closing frames, it’s 1989 and Reddy sings her signature anthem at the NOW-sponsored Washington DC rally for abortion rights, “Protect Roe v Wade” placards flying. The gap between those two events is almost 25 years. I’ll just leave that there.
As biopics go, I Am Woman is a little above standard. It’s got the requisite struggle to get that first break, the spouse/partner/manager that’s no good for the budding star and who takes advantage and cleans the bank account, the decline in popularity, the renewed appreciation and comeback. See Ray, Elvis, Anita, Respect… It follows a pattern. But what director Moon and writer Emma Jensen (Mary Shelley) have on their side is sudden currency, and because of that currency, I Am Woman very nearly transforms into a feminist CTA.
He’s no good, girl
The story starts when Reddy arrives NYC from Melbourne for what she mistakenly believes is a recording contract – getting called “sweetheart” all the way – and possessed of a toddler, starts working dingy nightclubs to pay the rent in her dingy hotel. An old friend from Oz, eventual music journalist legend Lilian Roxon (always welcome Danielle Macdonald, Bird Box, underrated Aussie streaming series The Tourist), invites her to a groovy party and there she meets Jeff Wald (Evan “Quicksilver” Peters). He’s a talent manager, and he convinces Reddy to follow him to Los Angeles, rent a big, showy house, and let him make her a star. Naturally he gets wrapped up in the emerging hard rock scene of the 1970s and cocaine, but does indeed get Reddy her shot. Naturally her stardom outshines his. Naturally they grow apart, she betrays Lilian, he gets hooked on coke, mismanages her fortune, and so on so forth. Then her grown daughter, Traci (Molly Broadstock) convinces her to sing in DC.
OG girl power
The more things change…
As an examination of Reddy as an artist – and an artist who had Great Meaning hoisted on her – I Am Woman is shaky at best. Moon is an unchallenging director and the resulting film is by the numbers; it has a pedestrian, functional feel to it, with a focus on the central relationship between Wald and Reddy. Jensen’s script never tackles the issues that might make Reddy’s story, and the song, resonate now. She was the embodiment of suburban white lady feminism, “housewife rock”, and a peek at whether or not it actually reached LGBTQ+ women, black women, rural women – and why or why not – is a story. A deeper dive into Reddy’s connection to Roxon, another trailblazer, would have been welcome. Alas, we get the husband and a Las Vegas residency. Still, Cobham-Hervey, Peters and Macdonald lift I Am Woman above its station by sheer force of feel-good will.
And confession: To be honest I’m not sure it was ketchup in that ad because I was so busy fuming at the message to double check. In the 50 years (!!) since “I Am Woman” was released it’s gone from anthem, to corny chestnut, to fondly remembered punchline. Look around. It doesn’t seem so corny right now. Maybe Rihanna or Lizzo can juice for the 21st century. — DEK