I'm Your Woman

But is she? Really?

Jean's a bored gangster's wife. When we meet her she's complaining she needs more substance in her life but doing very little to make that happen. She can't fry an egg, and even sunbathing is a high maintenance activity because of those prickly bathing suit tags. 

"I'm your woman?" Geez.... should I find smack-dab in the middle of a gang war- -- 'cause that happens pretty early in the movie -- Jean is not my female go-to. Jean isn't my go-to.

 Gal Gadot, sure. 

Give me Brie Larson's Captain Marvel any day. 

Hell, in a fight I'd settle for help from Harley Quinn and her dumbass baseball bat. 

But Jean? My woman? Even 90 minute into this two hour, Julia Hart-directed flick, I knew Jean wasn't. She still couldn't get the eggs fried right. She bumbled and stumbled at being a new mother, and couldn't do the most basic things necessary to keep her and her baby safe from the gangsters trying to find her. 

But then she began to change. She matured; her maternal instincts kicked in. Jean stopped being a victim and took control of the situation. 

She is the woman. Really. 

Hart's neo-noir flick is tedious. For the first 90 minutes the pace is consistently mundane. That dull energy is a reflection of Jean's personality, though. Her perspective on life. The viewer feels frustrated by it, and we want her to step it up. When she does step it up in the final act it feels all the more enjoyable for what we had to endure.

The Jean we meet early in the film is not our woman in a crisis. The Jean we come to know, though, is.