North Country

CHARLIZE THERON stars as Josey Aimes (center) in Warner Bros. Pictures’ drama,
“North Country.” FRANCES McDORMAND also stars. Photo by Richard Foreman.

 
In an opening shot, little Karen Aimes (Elle Peterson), is playing with a Barbie doll as a car pulls up to the house. At first, we see her mother, Josey (Charlize Theron), looking out the window. Then, the shot cuts to Josey cleaning blood off her face. The film gets right to the point: Josey has been beaten by her husband, which, we’ll discover is neither the first nor the last time men will take advantage of her.

She leaves her husband, taking her two children, and heads north to her parents. “North Country” is inspired by the book Class Action, which details the events surrounding Lois E. Jenson v. Eveleth Taconite Co—the first class-action sexual harrassment suit brought in the United States in 1988. Her destination is Minnesota’s Iron Range. This area, in the northern third of my state, was excoriated heavily by mining companies like Eveleth in the 1970’s and 1980’s. The title card mentions that in 1975, the Iron Range hired its first female employee.

The film intercuts between scenes of Josey’s struggle for financial independence and the hearing for the class-action suit. “Who is Sammy’s father?” asks the defense attorney. “I don’t know who Sammy’s father is,” replies Josey. The attorney fires back, “Is that beecause you had so many sexual partners?”

Josey goes to a social function to try to have some sort of life, be with friends, and perhaps meet a nice man. As people in small towns always seem to know everybody, an unidentified woman comments in the background on how Josey’s two children are from two different men. Of her desire to get a job at the mine to support herself, Josey’s father muses in ignorance, “You wanna be a lesbian now?” She doesn’t want to continue styling hair for the rest of her life.

There’s embarrassment involved as she describes having to get a gynecological exam simply to gain employment at Pearson Steel. Her mother, Alice (Sissy Spacek), believes she should feel shame for simply wanting to do a job “traditionally” thought of as a man’s work.

Josey moves in with a co-worker at the plant, Glory (Frances McDormand). As if to make a less-than-subtle but conceivably necessary point in a film about the inequities of working for the modern-day robber barons of the steel industry, Glory is often rubbing pain-relief creams into her joints or bandaging up her wrists. When Glory takes Josey to the cafeteria, Josey gets an early idea of some of the harrassment that goes on in this work environment, but not remotely close to what she’ll soon endure. Glory gives as good as she gets when her male coworkers attempt to insult her. Josey, however, isn’t quite so thick-skinned just yet.

I was impressed to see Sean Bean play something other than a suspicious authority concealing darker motives. As Kyle, Glory’s husband, Bean is a kind, benevolent man. He has the kind of patience and care to fix watches in his basement, a characteristic which becomes relevant later in the film as he provides fatherly advice to Sammy.

There are magnificent performances all around, and, speaking as a resident of Minnesota, the location cinematography captures the essence of the Iron Range—a stark contrast between the exhausted minelands and the lush forestry and sloping hills that characterize much of the surrounding area. Even details such as the residential as well as night life of small Minnesota towns, assists the director, Niki Caro, in creating an atmosphere that supports the simultaneous sense of desperation and complacency that embodies so many of the iron and coal mining communities of Minnesota and North Dakota—the mine is their only livelihood, and the bars their only refuge from it.

After witnessing several incidents, including one of the male workers fondling Sherry (Michelle Monaghan), Josey goes to her manager, Arlen Pavich (Xander Berkeley), only to get the runaround. Pavich is the kind of manager who excuses the chicanery because to deal with it would require effort. There’s no way she’s going to get to see Mr. Pearson—even if she does, what if he’s of the same bent of mind? It’s a risk Josey may have to take, but the possibility of the complaint amounting to nothing is precisely the fear that Pavich and others at the plant use against Josey.

When the women gather at the local bar for a drink, they try to introduce Josey to the genial Bill White (Woody Harrelson). White was apparently a high school hockey hero who became a lawyer. He could probably come in handy around there, one thinks. However, for the time being, he’s too busy laying low at the bar to want to be noticed by anyone. When he does muster up the courage to go say something to her, after much prodding from Glory and Kyle, another guy cuts in to ask Josey for a dance.

Bobby Sharp (Jeremy Renner), a ruddy, young and insecure man, tells Josey the guys are willing to straighten out and consider her part of the team. This is, of course, a set-up you can see a mile coming away, but knowledge of that still doesn’t alleviate the tensions to come. There are implications that Bobby and Josey may have a history, the details of which I’ll let you discover for yourself.

Later, while watching testimony from Anita Hill on TV, Josey’s mother can only think of Clarence Thomas, “That poor man’s family.” Even as a woman, she doesn’t comprehend the psychological damage of sexual harrassment. While at her son’s hockey game, Josey is verbally attacked by Bobby Sharp’s wife. Before a substantial section of the crowd in the bleachers, Mrs. Sharp accuses Josey of having an affair with her husband.

Matters only become worse when Josey travels to Minneapolis to speak with the company president, Mr. Pearson, about the incidents. Pavich and other men from the plant have already discussed the matter with Pearson and convince him that she is the problem. After that, the harrassment of the women is taken to extremes by men who, outside of the workplace, have nothing to offer the community other than utter shame—as we find later in a thoughtful if somewhat contrived scene where Josey’s otherwise ignorant father, Hank (Richard Jenkins), has come to his senses and to her defense.

As Josey convinces White to represent her in a lawsuit against the company, White observes, “Herds, they stay together, they have a chance.” It then becomes clear that the only way Josey will find justice is if enough women come forward to constitute a class-action lawsuit. The judge who may hear the case requires just three other women to come forward before he’ll allow the class-action status. It seems a monumental task, but if there’s one thing about small towns that I’ve learned, no one can hide from their actions or lack thereof.

The film is astonishingly powerful in its portrayal of what these women endure. It’s a solid story, minus perhaps one particularly maudlin moment involving what I’d like to call the “Wave of Shame”—as the shame finally hits, people come forward by slowly rising, one by one, until an entire room of standing people can be seen… cue applause. But, otherwise, I found it had genuinely emotional moments. I think a person has to be particularly, exceptionally heartless to not be affected by the gross negligence of the community. The acts of harrassment aren’t nearly as disturbing as the ineptitude and inaction of Josey’s peers and the union. Herds can be rather ironic… their very purpose is to bring strength in numbers to protect individuals, but by doing so, they ultimately scorn individuality and, consequently, often fail to protect the minority.

The underlying precept of our court system is to protect the most critical function of the Constitution. That is, the courts are responsible for protecting the pre-eminent rights of the people from the tyranny of a majority or minority. While the story of Lois Jenson, as retold in this fictional adaptation, may have begun more than 20 years ago, its lessons are no less topical today than if the movie had been made in 1985. Judging from the reactions of my fellow Minnesotans in the audience to the collective apathy of the Minnesotan community in the film, we are making progress… slowly, but surely.

North Country • Dolby® Digital surround sound in select theatres • Running Time: 126 minutes • MPAA Rating: R for sequences involving sexual harassment including violence and dialogue, and for language. • Distributed by Warner Bros. Pictures