2015 was a landmark year for gay rights in the United States.
Same-sex marriage was deemed legal throughout the entire country – a civil rights issue finally rectified with a progressive ruling.
Its difficult to criticize 'Freeheld' for lack of trying, especially when the remarkable true story that avoids sentimental clichés.
In her first role following her Oscar win for 'Still Alice', Julianne Moore immerses herself in the role of Lieutenant Laurel Hester, a detective in Ocean County, New Jersey that has served over 24 years on the force.
Laurel is closeted with her preferences, and is convinced that coming out will jeopardize her chances as first woman in the county to make lieutenant.
Laurel likes to be in control, but is often aloof and amiss when not on the beat; she competes in volleyball scrimmages out of town to pick up dates, and is clumsy during play. During a match, she meets the youthful Stacie Andree (Ellen Paige), a mechanic nineteen years younger who is open with her sexuality.
Homophobia of the times lingers over the film cloud like a dark cloud of hate, and is a gloomy foreshadowing of the billowing conflict to come.
During an honest admission, Laurel tells Stacie she was committed for psych evaluation after coming out to her mother. At a gay bar, Laurel spots a fellow officer, who pleads for anonymity, in fear of losing his promotion as detective if anyone discovers his secret. As her relationship with Stacie intensifies, Laurel concocts new excuses for the presence of her companion- calling her as a sister, roommate, and friend to fend off unwanted interest.
The couple registers as domestic partners and purchases a home together.
Their domicile bliss is abruptly shortened when Laurel complains of pain in her side; a doctor discovers cancerous tumors in her lungs, and she is given only months to live.
As her time expires, she hastily writes to the Ocean County Freeholders to transfer her pension to Stacie – a right given to heterosexual married couples under New Jersey law.
The five county "freeholders" deny the claim, initiating an uproarious advocacy against the governing body that propels Laurel forward as the face of the gay- marriage cause.
Moore's performance is heart wrenching; her portrayal of Laurel captures the triumphant spirit of gay rights, and the arduous struggle towards inevitable reform.
You wince at her pain as her body deteriorates from lung cancer, and grimace as she barely musters the strength to pioneer for the necessary ramifications to leave Stacie the house.
The rest of the cast stumbles where Moore strides.
Ellen Paige is serviceable as Stacie, but doesn't quite find the emotional resonance within the character.
Michael Shannon is typecast fodder as Dane Wells, Laurel's partner investigating a double homicide – a subplot that is never fully realized and only scantily mentioned during lulls of the main story.
Steve Carrell's acting seems to sneak out of the projector from a neighboring theater; his performance comes out of left field, and he portrays the activist as Michael Scott with a lisp – a caricature that dangerously toes the line between comic relief and mocking stereotype.
The problem is that 'Freehold' doesn't quite know what it wants to be.
It begins as a daytime cop drama, transitions into a tender romance, and intensifies into a courthouse drama during the latter act.
The focus jumps back and forth, shifting the focus from lovers sharing the waning moments before inevitable loss, to the media frenzy that clutters the county courthouse with an eclectic cast of protester.
The film loses it's way, but finds itself whenever Moore is on the screen.
Her performance carries the weight of the story; Moore's Laurel is an embodiment of the rights movement, through the eyes of those who suffered and persevered.
Same-sex marriage was deemed legal throughout the entire country – a civil rights issue finally rectified with a progressive ruling.
Its difficult to criticize 'Freeheld' for lack of trying, especially when the remarkable true story that avoids sentimental clichés.
In her first role following her Oscar win for 'Still Alice', Julianne Moore immerses herself in the role of Lieutenant Laurel Hester, a detective in Ocean County, New Jersey that has served over 24 years on the force.
Laurel is closeted with her preferences, and is convinced that coming out will jeopardize her chances as first woman in the county to make lieutenant.
Laurel likes to be in control, but is often aloof and amiss when not on the beat; she competes in volleyball scrimmages out of town to pick up dates, and is clumsy during play. During a match, she meets the youthful Stacie Andree (Ellen Paige), a mechanic nineteen years younger who is open with her sexuality.
Homophobia of the times lingers over the film cloud like a dark cloud of hate, and is a gloomy foreshadowing of the billowing conflict to come.
During an honest admission, Laurel tells Stacie she was committed for psych evaluation after coming out to her mother. At a gay bar, Laurel spots a fellow officer, who pleads for anonymity, in fear of losing his promotion as detective if anyone discovers his secret. As her relationship with Stacie intensifies, Laurel concocts new excuses for the presence of her companion- calling her as a sister, roommate, and friend to fend off unwanted interest.
The couple registers as domestic partners and purchases a home together.
Their domicile bliss is abruptly shortened when Laurel complains of pain in her side; a doctor discovers cancerous tumors in her lungs, and she is given only months to live.
As her time expires, she hastily writes to the Ocean County Freeholders to transfer her pension to Stacie – a right given to heterosexual married couples under New Jersey law.
The five county "freeholders" deny the claim, initiating an uproarious advocacy against the governing body that propels Laurel forward as the face of the gay- marriage cause.
Moore's performance is heart wrenching; her portrayal of Laurel captures the triumphant spirit of gay rights, and the arduous struggle towards inevitable reform.
You wince at her pain as her body deteriorates from lung cancer, and grimace as she barely musters the strength to pioneer for the necessary ramifications to leave Stacie the house.
The rest of the cast stumbles where Moore strides.
Ellen Paige is serviceable as Stacie, but doesn't quite find the emotional resonance within the character.
Michael Shannon is typecast fodder as Dane Wells, Laurel's partner investigating a double homicide – a subplot that is never fully realized and only scantily mentioned during lulls of the main story.
Steve Carrell's acting seems to sneak out of the projector from a neighboring theater; his performance comes out of left field, and he portrays the activist as Michael Scott with a lisp – a caricature that dangerously toes the line between comic relief and mocking stereotype.
The problem is that 'Freehold' doesn't quite know what it wants to be.
It begins as a daytime cop drama, transitions into a tender romance, and intensifies into a courthouse drama during the latter act.
The focus jumps back and forth, shifting the focus from lovers sharing the waning moments before inevitable loss, to the media frenzy that clutters the county courthouse with an eclectic cast of protester.
The film loses it's way, but finds itself whenever Moore is on the screen.
Her performance carries the weight of the story; Moore's Laurel is an embodiment of the rights movement, through the eyes of those who suffered and persevered.