This film has aged very well, and watching it, I once again felt like I was in the hands of a director who was in absolute control of everything I saw on the screen. Julia Roberts’ clothes, make-up and hair tell as much about her character as her acting and dialog do, and every detail of the mise-en-scène makes a major contribution to the sense of the place and the stakes in the film. Soderbergh’s locations and sets always seem more important to his films than the settings of most filmmakers because his always seem to carry a lot of the important information. In Erin Brockovich, the dingy little Jensen house tells as much about the family life there as the script does. Details like its above-ground kids pool indicate a lower middle class family striving to provide for the kids but also show the way PG&E’s behavior is subtly undermining the efforts of the family. Nearly every detail on a Steven Soderbergh screen carries this level of signification. A Soderbergh mise-en-scène isn’t only appropriate; it develops the meaning in the film.
Having recently seen Magic Mike, I couldn’t help but notice the light in Erin Brockovich, too. Whether in the run-down areas of LA or the empty desert around Hinkley, there’s often a muted yellow cast that’s warm and highlights the settings. And at places from Pamela Duncan’s home and Masry’s office to a local bar or the hot, cinderblock assembly room, the light is never harsh. We can see every element of furnishing, every facial expression and every wrinkle in fabric. The lighting works hand-in-hand with the sets.
And I like Soderbergh’s narrative economy. There are parts a bit long and a bit too on-the nose in Erin Brockovich – when Matt communicates his acceptance of his mother’s helping the people of Hinkley by offering to get her breakfast, the scene goes on a bit too long, for example – but Soderbergh generally keeps his action moving forward quickly. I especially like the way he uses sound bridges between scene cuts because they move me into the next scene’s action before I even see what’s happening.
And though the film isn’t even-handed about the PG&E controversy, it isn’t shrill either because the evil of the utility isn't the only focus of the film. Brockovich’s humanity informs all aspects of her life, and her dealing with the corrupt utility is just one of the arenas the film follows her into. And we certainly see the flaws of the Brockovich’s side, too: Masry lacks backbone and wants to limit his exposure to the case, and Erin becomes obsessed with the case and ignores her family and relationships. This isn’t a strident, anti-business propaganda piece.
Lastly, I’ve been thinking recently of a film class I took back in the 70s and of reading Andre Bazin. I thought of Bazin’s cinema preferences a lot in respect to this and other Soderbergh works, and I think M. Cahiers would have loved this film. Erin Brockovich is all about mise-en-scène and what you see on the screen. The editing, though fluid and efficient, never calls attention to itself, nor does the dialog or acting. Throughout his career, Soderbergh moves easily from one film language to another, and Erin Brockovich shows how thoroughly he can control this one.
