By EMILY PAOLICELLI and AILEEN BURKE
Arts Editor and News Editor
On the Basis of Sex begins with young Ruth Bader Ginsburg (Felicity Jones) in a light blue dress and heels, marching into Harvard Law School in a sea of men in black suits to Harvard’s fight song, 10,000 Men of Harvard playing in the background, which sets the tone for the movie perfectly.
Ruth Bader is portrayed as a wife and a mother along with a student, lawyer, and professor. However, her role as a wife and a mother are extremely realistic and do not detract from her life as a professional, but enhance it. We see aspects of her natural professionalism in the way that she interacts with her students, with her children, and with her husband.
The movie has a surprising amount of exposition, focusing mostly on the marriage between Ruth and Marty Ginsburg (Armie Hammer) and Marty’s cancer diagnosis. Initially, I wondered why Marty’s battle with cancer was relevant to the story since the movie’s focus was on Ruth Bader Ginsburg and not Marty, but it became evident that Ruth and Marty’s relationship is integral to the accurate portrayal of Ruth; they were so supportive of each other that leaving out the plight of Marty would be leaving out the plight of Ruth by association. In many cases, details are present that may raise question of relevance, but as the movie progresses, those details are often revisited and provide much more context. For example, Ruth is supposedly terrible at cooking, which seems insignificant until it becomes a reversal of gender roles in the Ginsburg family, with Marty and Jane unabashedly preparing meals for the family when it is traditionally assumed that Ruth should be the one doing so.
There are a few time jumps, the first one being only a few years, and the next being closer to a decade. The larger time jumps would be excusable with the assumption that nothing substantial or significant happens in that passed time. However, the writing does have many holes in it. Untied ends were not destructive to the overall construction and comprehension of the movie, but they left something to be desired. One of the subplots of the movie is Ginsburg’s relationship with her daughter, Jane (Cailee Spaeny.) Their relationship was tense, filled with cinematic intergenerational misunderstanding, and Ruth came to a conclusion when Jane hailed a cab for the two of them and warded off catcallers. She was liberated, she was free… and then it was never addressed again. Jane becomes highly secondary, yet still supportive, which was beneficial to the overall narrative.
Ruth Bader’s relationship with Mel Wulf (Justin Theroux,) the legal director at the American Civil Liberties Union, was portrayed as rocky and complex; he was clearly a long-time friend of hers, which became evident when referred to her by her family pet name nickname “Kiki.” He gives Ruth a considerable amount of pushback in her endeavor to change legislation, but ultimately serves as a driving force in her success.
Throughout the whole movie, women are constantly juxtaposed with men, which makes it borderline impressive that the movie still manages to pass the Bechdel test. Whether it’s as apparent as the opening scene or as subtle as a Cosmopolitan billboard with a scantily clad woman on it, the movie makes a point to let the audience know exactly where women and other minorities stand in society. The characters shown in the movie correspond well with the time skips, beginning with mainly white men and some women, to majority white women with some white men and some people of color. In Ruth Bader Ginsburg’s classroom at Rutgers, her students are composed completely of women of multiple races, with the exception of one man.
My biggest gripe with Jones’ performance is her quote-unquote Brooklyn accent; the English actress’ rendition was wildly inaccurate and distracting, but did not take away from her overall portrayal of Ruth Bader Ginsburg. The movie could have been done better, but the main accomplishment is that is was done in the first place.
