Give Me an A is a film born out of necessity. It’s not a film that has been years in the making or a script that’s been bouncing around Hollywood for a decade.
[ahem] Before I go any further, let me make it clear: this isn’t a space to debate the political implications of what I say next. This film is a direct response to one of the most heated legal and media debates of the last few years. I fully support the film-makers’ right to express their outrage and defend their stance, but I’m not interested in engaging in conversation about it here. [/ahem]
With that said, let me give you some background on the film:
Roe vs. Wade was a landmark Supreme Court decision made in 1973, recognising a woman’s constitutional right to have an abortion without excessive government interference. It established that women had the right to make personal decisions about their reproductive health, particularly during the first trimester, and it set a legal precedent that protected those rights for nearly 50 years.
The problem?
Roe vs. Wade was overturned in June 2022. For millions of American women, it felt like a slap in the face. A basic human right, to be crystal clear – a freedom over one’s own body – was taken away. To say that this left people in shock is an understatement.
Reactions were varied, but one woman, Natasha Halevi, knew how she wanted to respond. Using her creativity and art, she set out to make a film that tackled the enormity of the decision.
And thus, Give Me an A was born. Conceived and completed in just three months, the film had its first release at the end of September 2022. Quite the impressive feat.
Give Me an A is an anthology film, made up of 16 short films woven into a single narrative. Each short uses a different genre, but the theme remains the same: women’s rights and what it means to have their reproductive rights stripped away. These stories explore where we’ve been, where we are, and where a decision like this could lead.
Breaking up these shorts is a group of cheerleaders. But these aren’t the stereotypical, bubbly cheerleaders you might expect. At the start, they seem happy-go-lucky, but as the films play out, you can see their demeanour shift. They go from passive, excited spectators to determined young women, warriors, even. By the end of the film, there’s no doubt that these girls aren’t here to play.
Virginia Madsen plays their coach, guiding them through this emotional transformation. She’s barely on screen, but her presence still matters. Normally, I might call this a waste of her talent, but in this project, nothing goes to waste. Every contribution feels deliberate and meaningful.
It’s an odd film, but a necessary one. The messaging is clear for all. I would hope at least. But here’s where I have my doubts; the people who need to see this most probably won’t watch it. They’re often complicit in their own ignorance, and that’s a real shame. Each short is designed to make people think about what’s right and wrong, but the people that support this film will likely already be on the side of women’s rights.
That said, I believe the film absolutely needs to exist. It’s a beacon of solidarity for the countless women out there who need to know they aren’t alone in their frustrations.
In many ways, this is a film that shouldn’t need to exist. But here we are. I could rant about why that is, but I won’t. And, trust me, I’ve already moderated myself quite a bit while writing this.
Would I recommend this film? All day long to those who should, or need, to see it.
Availability:
Not as great as it should be. It’s available on some VOD channels and as a Blu Ray release courtesy of Vinegar Syndrome.
Trailer:
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