A Review of Made in Dagenham (Cole, '10)

Made in Dagenham

Directed by Nigel Cole

Starring: Sally Hawkins, Bob Hoskins, Daniel Mays, Miranda Richardson, Rosamund Pike

Grade: C

Written for InRO:

It probably wasn’t a difficult decision to have Nigel Cole direct “Made in Dagenham,” given that he was an ambassador of female solidarity just seven years ago with the Women’s Institute-based “Calendar Girls.” While that film dealt with contravening expectations of what is ‘proper’ for the elder housewife, ‘Dagenham’ has significantly bigger fish to fry. The women in this latest feature are without the luxury of retirement, knitting, and country fetes, instead burdened by prejudice within the workplace and seeking to overturn gender inequality at the Ford Factory they share with male colleagues. Many of these colleagues are related to the women, who are a little miffed to learn that their employment classification has been downgraded from “skilled” to “unskilled.” When union representative Albert Passingham (Bob Hoskins) looks for a female rep-recruit for their next meeting with company executives, the women put good girl Rita O’Grady (Sally Hawkins) forward to fight in their corner. Rita surprises by demanding a one-day staff walkout at the meeting, and proceeds to instigate indefinite strike action when the group’s request for equal employment status and pay is rejected. While the equal pay issue is concentrated around Dagenham, the ensuing media furor forces a national debate and attracts the attention of British employment secretary Barbara Castle.

Cole isn’t the only common denominator between ‘Girls’ and ‘Dagenham,’ both of which follow the same formulae in building concerns for the women around the perceived “main” concern. The latest film contains the same scripted pitfalls of flagrantly constructed subplots, this time involving a factory veteran struggling with her husband’s depression, and an aspiring model searching for a better life. These characters feel like frail attempts to burden Rita, and their arcs are flimsily mapped out, to the extent that ‘Dagenham’ feels as if it’s schematically converting everyone to the same principal cause of equality, when it doesn’t really need to. Somewhere between depression and modeling comes Miranda Richardson grandstanding in the Cabinet as a plucky Barbara Castle, bellowing at her misogynist aides and rolling her eyes at a lifeless Harold Wilson (John Sessions). The scenes at Westminster feel too drastic and stilted to mesh with the grittier aspects of the East London story, and the interchange of these two worlds does little to broaden our perception of the political dynamic of Britain in the 1960s. However much it seeks to demonstrate this through the fierce support of working woman Castle, the film (and Richardson) revel too much in the character to create anything substantive.

The film largely achieves what it does through a canny depiction of Dagenham itself, which is not so determinate about its women or the hierarchy within their workplace as you might imagine. Their initial position on the periphery of vaguely fuss-kicking discontents appears a thoughtful approximation of the group’s ambivalence, and their unspoken subservience in relation to the male members of the factory feels wholly convincing. These women aren’t aware of a platform on which to pose their problems beyond casual conversation in the local club, and let’s face it: who wants to talk about work when they’re drinking on the weekend? Bureaucracy is so alien to them that it takes a degree of persuasion to elect a representative, which turns out to be the popular wallflower Rita. Hawkins proves that Rita was the right choice of role for her; she colours O’Grady with plenty of self-doubt but also a degree of passive, learned absorption that allows her to eventually flourish. If this is an “Educating Rita 2,” then Hawkins succeeds where Julie Walters didn’t, maintaining the timidity of her early scenes while her outlook transforms. When called upon to make a late speech at a political conference, she feels as incomplete an orator as she does at her first union meeting (her passion makes up for her lack of polish). She walks a tremulous line but she always seems bound by the responsibility for change that the film aims to rouse us with, dashing off the line “It’s rights, not privileges” to her wounded husband with the self-righteous bravura of a woman committed.

Rita’s marital problems are a clichéd dramatic device that offers nothing new in that regard, and as with many films, such as “Coal Miner’s Daughter” and the recent “Secretariat,” the man gets his nose put out of joint by a wife daring to usurp him of his status as the breadwinner. Surprisingly, 'Dagenham' becomes far more valuable in dissecting class issues than those of gender, or at least the gender “battle,” anyway. In setting up a handful of thoughtful, well-acted exchanges between Rita and glamorous housewife Lisa (Rosamund Pike), who are both unhappy with a teacher at their children’s school, the onus becomes more on uniting a collective. There is a creeping sense of universality in what begins as a tiny, concentrated issue, and this relationship conveys the message more than any element of the Downing Street shenanigans. 'Dagenham' has some charm, but that charm is mainly the result of novel subject matter and a striking lead performance. It’s a great triumphant story of right-over-rule, but the filmmakers don’t seem to know enough about that story, generalising many of the characters’ problems to align with a main gender focus. Archive documentary footage of the real Ford heroines accompanies the main credits, yet as documents of adversity go, “Made in Dagenham” is a light gloss on the actual historical events. This factory may have ceased operation, but the production line of underdog victory tales lumbers on.

Addicts 2009: Best Actress in a Supporting Role

Leonie Benesch in Das Weisse Band (The White Ribbon)

The wave of impersonality in The White Ribbon (a feature that plagues the film as much as it benefits it) makes Leonie Benesch's task as an anxious teenager wooed by an older teacher all the more cavalier. Like many of the younger characters Eva navigates Haneke's constrictive, uniform world in a way she thinks is expected of her, wary of the unwritten protocol that limits perspective. The self-empowering aspect of Benesch's Eva is working with the script, but her hunger for change, passion, evolution feels much more evident and desperate (even in its tentativeness) and offers a relatable, humanist approach to independence that's painfully missing elsewhere. Eva does not want to take anything for granted, allaying her suitor's premature attempts at intimacy with sincere regret, and Benesch conveys the shrewdness of her character's small-scale ambition of happiness beautifully.

Ginnifer Goodwin in He's Just Not That Into You

Goodwin navigates the negative connotations of her character's desire for testosterone, and is refreshingly aware of Gigi's emotional openness and the problems that it poses, promoting it as positive and worthwhile even though it leaves her exposed to hurt. She is responsible for the film's ultimate reverence of romance, indulgent of dating and how it's undeniably fun, even though 95% of it ends in the disappointment of not meeting the person you want to spend the rest of your life with.

Taken from my Supporting Actress Blogathon post.

Samantha Morton in The Messenger

The reaction of Olivia Pitterson to the loss of her soldier husband is completely different from the response of the grief-stricken "NIK"'s before her, but feels by far the most genuine. That's not to say that Samantha Morton's Olivia doesn't bear anger or bitterness (a later scene puts that theory to bed) but her own feelings about the war are a lot more shadier than most of The Messenger's erratic set of characters. One feels that Olivia had already consigned herself to a widow's life, even as she deters others from following in her late husband's footsteps. Was she against his decision in the first place or did her political stance change like so many others? Morton is rounded and recognisable enough to depict Olivia's ready acceptance of Foster's Will as both natural and unhealthy and becomes one of the most valuable parts of the film.

Rosamund Pike in An Education

Rosamund Pike is saddled with one of the roles pigeon-holed by the hand of Nick Hornby, but rises (not unlike a Phoenix with that fierce blonde mane of hers) from the ashes of mediocrity to create a memorable and solid woman. Helen, attached to Jenny's boyfriend's friend, shows Jenny how to be a socialite without really doing a lot. She seems rather like a bimbo at first, content to sit during an orchestra recital thoroughly bored, even as her face eagerly tries to maintain the dignified grace of high-brow culture. Her lack of interest in this area as a whole opposes Jenny's stance, but it's interesting to see Pike flaunt Helen's ease, wisdom, and knowledge of the social scene, especially as Jenny excels in every other comparative area. You can't teach that.

Blanca Portillo in Los Abrazos Rotos (Broken Embraces)

Portillo has what might be traditionally deemed the "Elsa Lanchester role" as Judit, the business partner and former lover of famous film director Mateo Blanco. But such with Almodovar things aren't always that simple, and it emerges that Judit has enough to be sore at Blanco about, even as she continues to bail him out in the way that women always seem to be able to. Judit's contempt for Mateo (and perhaps men in general) is evident when she pretends to ignore his paranoid auteurial indecision, but there's never any doubt that she reveres Blanco's talent, fuels that talent, and will continue to do so. Portillo creates a rather devastating portrayal of a woman that will settle for emotional connection through the reliability of celluloid (what can be more constant, right?), indicative of Almodovar's reminder that relationships can be superficial and exclusive. The camera lies, and so do we.

Winner: Blanca Portillo

Runner Up: Leonie Benesch

Best of the Rest: Juno Temple seducing her stepbrother in Mr. Nobody, Leslie Mann layering Sandler's sympathetic ex in Funny People, Marion Cotillard in Nine produces the only character work worthy of holding a candle to 8 1/2, Melanie Laurent's ass-kicking Jewish revenge in Inglourious Basterds, and Mo'Nique's excellently-played final scene in Precious.

Other Delights: Olivia Williams in An Education, Anyone in Whip It!, Alison Janney in Away We Go, Vera Farmiga in Up in the Air, Diane Kruger in Inglourious Basterds, Julianne Moore in A Single Man, Alycia Delmore in Humpday, and Paula Patton in Precious.