I’ll admit that when I went into this film, I was unsure of what I would find. American Woman begins with text fading in and out of the screen in order to set the scene. Yet, just as it tries to immerse audiences in its world, it boldly proclaims that it is not a true story but is based on real events. Perhaps my age is a hindrance in this regard, but prior to searching for this after the film, I had never heard of the kidnapping of heiress Patty Hearst. In my defense, it was twenty-six years before my time.
Besides this jarring opening, however, American Woman is an interesting drama that explores the perspective of someone often written out of the story: Wendy Hoshimura. Written and directed by Semi Chellas, the film follows Jenny (Hong Chau), a political activist whose presentation oscillates between that of a radical and an angry pacifist. Jenny is this story’s equivalent to Hoshimura. She is asked to help the survivors of the People’s Liberation Front with their everyday tasks like shopping for groceries in order to protect them while they are encouraged to write a book chronicling their stories. There are only three survivors: Pauline (Sarah Gadon), Juan (John Gallagher Jr.), and Yvonne (Lola Kirke). Pauline represents the real-life Hearst; as such, she was kidnapped from her home, and eventually joined the PLF. Even so, Juan continually refers to her as “princess,” belittles her for not contributing appropriately, and compares her to Jenny. Yvonne, Juan’s girlfriend, typically stays silent, smokes, or otherwise act as ambience for the scene, but it is made clear that she is more than willing to partake in the action when necessary. Juan eventually ropes Jenny and her everyday adventures as their errand-girl into his plans. When things go awry, Jenny and Pauline make their escape.
Chau gives an impressive performance as Jenny. Jenny, or Iris or Alice as she sometimes is known, is the picture of quiet grace and competence. There can be no question that she could do what Juan and the others say she has done. For all of this elegance and skill, it is her kindness that is her undoing. She makes small mistakes that a woman like Jenny should know better than to make, especially considering the amount of time she is shown removing the traces of her existence as she exits people’s lives. My opinion of Pauline would change on a dime – as Jenny divined the truth around her actions, she swung between being sympathetic and seemingly awful. Gadon’s performance was fascinating. It was impossible to truly make out what Pauline was thinking or feeling, which even Jenny reflects on.
Unfortunately, what does bog the film down at times is the sudden shift in tone. Jenny and Pauline switch from having what seems like a fun road trip to being in dangerous situations involving the police or wanted posters, but the lightness with which these moments are treated does the work a disservice. With flash-forwards interspersed through the story, there is no surprise to the ending, which slowly saps out the drama. The end is telegraphed, coming from afar. While the story is based on history, the constant reminder that the involved parties were going to be caught merged with their riskier choices to create an unpleasant guessing game as to which mistake would be their last. Furthermore, several times Jenny’s Asian heritage is the subject of conversation or criticism. Whether people casually use slurs around her or praise her simply because she is Asian, the film rarely allows her to actually react to these specific situations. We hear about her father’s feelings about the USA’s internment of Japanese-Americans, and Pauline confronts Juan over the fact that he praises her more for being Asian than for her actual actions. While these moments aid tremendously in the characterization of Jenny, they ring hollow in the grand scheme of things, as if the film wasn’t sure if their inclusion was for realism or for commentary. That being said, there are some twists that remain intact even through the film’s attempts at changing the tone and grappling with identity. American Woman as a whole has more highlights than low points.
Although I use the term “undoing,” the end is hardly that. Positive overtones give way to a strange emptiness as the duo is separated with no hope for reconciliation. Considering all they have done and all they have gone through, there never should be, but having seen them free on the open road, it is hard to come to grips with the close. Things don’t go well or poorly. They simply go, like any other event in history.
Indira Ramgolam is a freshman in Columbia College.