Call Jane (2022)

Call Jane is the rare historical drama that feels urgent without feeling like a lecture: it’s tense, humane, and quietly exhilarating in the way it watches ordinary women discover extraordinary courage. Elizabeth Banks gives Joy a grounded, lived-in realism that makes every choice feel personal, while Sigourney Weaver brings steel and warmth to a story powered by solidarity rather than speeches. Director Phyllis Nagy keeps the film accessible and propulsive, balancing anger and hope with the kind of ensemble energy that turns activism into community you can almost step into. It’s not for viewers who want their period pieces comfortable or apolitical, but if you’re open to a smart, emotionally direct film about autonomy and mutual aid, this one stays with you.

Call Jane wants to be an accessible, crowd-pleasing drama about women building an underground lifeline in pre-Roe America, and it’s clearly aiming for empathy and righteous momentum rather than bleak realism. The problem is it often feels a bit too tidy and conventional for material this heavy, smoothing over historical messiness and underplaying the danger so the stakes don’t always land with the gravity you might expect. If you’re looking for a hard-hitting, politically sharper film that wrestles with complexity and consequences in a raw way, this may come off as simplified and strangely safe. Still, Elizabeth Banks and Sigourney Weaver bring enough conviction to keep it watchable, and if you prefer an earnest, straightforward entry point into the topic rather than something harrowing, it can work.