On the road to get an abortion
We’re used to happy endings. When a movie, TV series or soap opera ends, we want to see the characters happy, finding love, getting married, overcoming their difficulties, having children. There are many happy endings in our lives as well. Whenever you close a cycle, you want it to end well. You want to have a happy ending, no matter if it is getting a degree or finding the love of your life. And who said that getting an abortion can’t be a happy ending to close a cycle?
Six months after the US Supreme Court overturned Roe v. Wade, initiating a new cycle in which road trips to have access to an abortion — to have a happy ending — are more and more common, we analyze four road movies about abortion, made by four female filmmakers.
Little Woods (2018), by Nia DaCosta
Things have been tough for Oleander, better known as Ollie (Tessa Thompson). Her probation time — as she was caught selling medicine without prescription — is almost over when her adoptive sister, Deb (Lily James), announces that she’s pregnant. Deb lives in a parking lot with her son, and simply can’t have another baby — after all, medical accompaniment of pregnancy and childbirth costs at least 8,000 dollars! Here’s an important fact: like Deb, many women who choose to have an abortion are already mothers.
What makes this film different from the three others analyzed here is that the unwanted pregnancy isn’t the main focus: it’s Ollie’s attempt to raise money to fix the situation of her house, which includes crossing the border to fetch pills. When Deb says that going to Canada is the most viable option for her to get an abortion, Ollie offers to drive her sister across the border.
When Deb tells her child’s father that she will terminate the pregnancy, the whole talk happens: he proposes marriage and tells that he’ll help buy food and clothes, to which Deb answers, wisely, that having a baby is much more than buying food and clothes. This is only one of the truths the film presents to “pro-life” people. Another truth presented to all viewers is that abortion can be legal and yet out of reach: when it is put a price on the right to abortion, women will look for more viable options, like Deb did. That’s why abortion must be as it is currently in Argentina: legal, safe and free of charge.
In Canada, Deb arrives at a shack where she fetches her fake Canadian documents, but the two men try to take more money than what they first asked for, and one of them almost sexually assaults Deb. Ollie and Deb pass through the woods and exchange vehicles until they arrive at the clinic, where they find a crowd of two with anti-choice banners outside. The procedure itself is simple compared to this Via Crucis.
Never Rarely Sometimes Always (2020), by Eliza Hittman
Autumn (Sidney Flanigan) is 17 and pregnant. She doesn’t want to be a mother and the first person to talk about abortion with her, at the 22-minute mark in the film, is a woman at a clinic who shows her an anti-choice propaganda video telling “the hard truth about abortion”. As she’s a minor living in Pennsylvania, Autumn will need parental consent to have an abortion, and that is out of reach — something that shows that there can be several ways to try to stop abortions, like creating legal barriers such as this one. She tries inducing the abortion by overdosing on vitamin C and punching her belly — to no results. Autumn’s salvation comes in the form of her cousin and co-worker, Skylar (Talia Ryder).
Together, the girls find a destination — New York city –, pack a bag and hop into a bus. In a Planned Parenthood clinic they find out Autumn is farther along in the pregnancy than she thought she was, and the procedure will be more complex. In an extremely well-acted sequence we find out Autumn had been in an abusive relationship and we accompany the girls’ adventures in the city, as well as the whole procedure — which is an adventure on itself.
In a film full of unwanted male touches — both literal and figurative — it’s another woman’s hand that Autumn holds while she’s undergoing the procedure. It’s another girl — even though it doesn’t seem that Autumn and Skylar are the closest of cousins — she leans on when things get complicated. It’s not the preacher woman in the first clinic that helps, it’s a counselor at Planned Parenthood that listens to her and is there for her — a character played by a rel-life Planned Parenthood employee. It’s women helping women, as it has always been, as it is, as it’ll continue to be.
It’s interesting to notice that we learn that Autumn had been, in a moment of her life, in an abusive relationship and suffered sexual abuse, but we do not know if her pregnancy is result of the abuse. The message is important: it shouldn’t matter if a pregnancy is or isn’t result of abuse to “legitimize” the abortion. If a pregnant person decides to terminate the pregnancy, she should be allowed without further questions.
In late February 2021 the film became the center of debates as an Academy of Motion Pictures Arts and Science member wrote an e-mail to director and screenwriter Eliza Hittman — calling her “Emma” — and complained about the movie. The man ended the patronizing correspondence with a “Think about it” after presenting statistics, without any proof or context, about millions of people being against “baby murder”. There is no doubt the invitation — or rather order — to reflect in the end was a way of saying that the filmmaker should be ashamed of her work — which, of course, she shouldn’t. Talking about abortion — like having one — is nothing to be ashamed of.
Unpregnant (2020), by Rachel Lee Goldenberg
Described as a pop version of “Never Rarely Sometimes Always”, “Unpregnant” follows Veronica (Haley Lu Richardson), also 17, who can’t count on her boyfriend to take her to the nearest abortion clinic in Albuquerque, New Mexico, that is 14 hours away. She can’t have an abortion in Missouri without parental consent and her very religious parents certainly won’t allow her to have the procedure. She also can’t count on her frivolous school friends, so her only hope is Bailey (Barbie Ferreira), a girl who used to be Veronica’s friend but the two had grown apart in the last few years.
Bailey sees the trip as a weekend vacation, but in reality it’s the perfect opportunity for the two girls to reconnect. Friendship may be the focus, and fun is the lens everything is presented through. Even an encounter between the girls and an ultra-religious anti-choice couple is kind of funny, but also suspenseful as it climaxes in a car chase. All the fun also doesn’t stop the message to be delivered: pregnant people of any age anywhere should be able to access abortion healthcare freely, without obstacles.
Veronica’s boyfriend Kevin (Alex MacNicoll) is the worst — a true stalker, according to Bailey. He follows the girls, coerces Veronica to make her change her mind and even blackmails her. To make things worse, Kevin knew the condom had broken and didn’t tell her — she could have taken the morning after pill if she knew — which is a very messed-up thing to do.
Many viewers have noticed that the only straight white people the girls meet on their journey are the couple who invade Veronica’s privacy and try to stop her from having the abortion. On the other hand, all POC and LGBTQIA+ people they meet actually help them reach Albuquerque. Another interesting thing in the film is that Veronica has to constantly post on social media so her friends won’t “worry” about her. That’s why she posts a photo of the full moon with the hashtag “self-care” while in transit to have an abortion. This serves as a criticism of the fake life built around social media posts.
Abortion is a natural thing to do, and Bailey knows that, as she mentions that one in four women have had at least one. It’s not something to be ashamed of: it is, as Veronica does in an amusement park toy, something to scream to the world, in order to normalize it. The important questions are made: why do you need parental consent to have an abortion, but no consent is necessary to give birth to a baby? And the most important thing is also said: after an abortion, a woman doesn’t feel bad, she is usually relieved.
Plan B (2021), by Natalie Morales
In the very beginning of the movie, Sunny’s mother says that one little mistake can ruin someone’s life. At the school she and her friend Lupe attend, sex ed classes consist of videos claiming for abstinence, as “one joy ride can ruin your life.” And, indeed, one night of sex can change someone’s life forever, when abortion and birth control aren’t options.
At a party in her house, Sunny (Kuhoo Verma) loses her virginity to Kyle (Mason Cook), a schoolmate, but her real crush, Hunter (Michael Provost), is not interested in her. Her first sexual experience is far from memorable and, to make things worse, she finds the condom inside her vagina the next morning. Together with Lupe (Victoria Moroles), Sunny goes to a pharmacy to buy the morning after pill, and the clerk refuses to sell the birth control to them because of the “conscience clause”, an absurd that puts religious and moral beliefs over people’s needs. With this denial, the girls start an interstate race against the clock in order to get the birth control.
By far the funniest movie from the selection, “Plan B” may not be a movie about abortion. But we’ve seen, again and again, that the rights to abortion and to have access to birth control walk hand in hand. Conservatives won’t stop at banning abortion: they want to ban birth control as well, so no woman has a choice to plan when and if she wants to get pregnant.
It’s curious that we have an abortion road movie in 2015 (“Grandma”, with Julia Garner and Lily Tomlin) and four in consecutive years starting in 2018. It’s curious, but not a coincidence: attacks on reproductive rights became stronger and more frequent as Trump rose to power, and didn’t stop when he failed to be re-elected. In 2021 alone — a pandemic year! — over 100 antiabortion bills were introduced in state legislatures.
As Roe vs Wade was overturned in June of 2022, thousands of pregnant people had to close state lines in order to have an abortion — like the women in the films analyzed. If a national abortion ban passes, many of these people will have to cross borders, to Canada or Mexico, in order to regain control over their bodies and lives. More and more people will have to cross state lines or even borders to regain control over their own bodies. More and more people will have to undergo this journey, not a holy journey, but a journey that encapsulates a whole story. And, more than ever, these stories must be told.
