If you were criticized before 2022 for expressing your concern that a woman’s constitutionally protected abortion rights were hanging by a thread, you’d find a brave sympathizer in Molly Doan. She’s the tireless Center for Reproductive Rights attorney at the heart of the disturbing new documentary “Zurawski v. Texas,” directed by Maisie Crowe and Abby Perrault.
In fact, Duane and her team have heard the word before, before the Supreme Court overturned the landmark 1973 Roe v. Wade ruling that protected women’s reproductive freedoms. But now, in the wake of her worst fears being realized, she’s fighting for those who don’t have access to essential, sometimes life-saving, health care.
The legal battle that Crowe and Piro chart in their traditional but powerful film is against the state of Texas, which has banned abortion almost entirely in the wake of the Supreme Court ruling, albeit with exceptions for various life-threatening situations. But as Zurawski v. Texas makes clear throughout its economical run, trading cleverly with facts rather than sensationalism, the exception law is so vague that doctors are left in the dark about whether they can legally provide abortions to their patients, even in situations that don’t require medical reasoning—nonviable pregnancies where the baby won’t survive birth and the mother’s long-term reproductive health will be irreversibly compromised.
It’s one thing to read and understand these words, but it’s another to feel the human impact of the law’s real-world consequences. Produced by a number of high-profile names, including Jennifer Lawrence and Hillary and Chelsea Clinton, Zurawski v. Texas wears these relatable connotations on its sleeves with heart and defiance. We witness the trauma of the actual patients who became Duane’s clients throughout her multifaceted lawsuit, which stretches from local courtrooms to the Texas Supreme Court. Among them is lead plaintiff Amanda Zurawski, who nearly died when her water broke prematurely at just 18 weeks of pregnancy. Her doctors did not perform the vital medical abortion she should have been able to obtain, forcing her to wait until she developed sepsis. Despite having the means, Zurawski and her husband could do nothing to protect her physical and emotional well-being.
A less economically privileged plaintiff, Samantha Casiano, a hard-working mother, was in similar grief when she discovered during her 20-week ultrasound that her fetus was not compatible with life. Knowing her baby would not survive, and without the money and logistical support to leave the state for a legal abortion, she was forced to carry her pregnancy to term, only to watch her daughter Halo suffer for just four hours. A quiet and calm plaintiff, Dr. Austin Dennard, an OB/GYN, was forced to leave Texas to have an abortion after her doctors discovered that her pregnancy was terminal. Although she had been through a harrowing experience herself, she was unfortunately forced to turn away patients seeking abortions after Roe v. Wade was overturned, due to the financial and legal consequences that would threaten the survival of her practice.
Crowe and Piro have previously demonstrated their gutsy storytelling instincts and camerawork in “At The Ready,” an eye-opening documentary about children growing up on the Mexican border who seek careers in law enforcement. Here, the filmmakers carefully weave these sobering stories, patiently and clearly addressing the urgency of these women’s cases and Duane’s work. They don’t shy away from harsh realities, either. In a particularly difficult but necessary scene, Halo’s funeral (and her lifeless body) is on screen, but the shattering moment lands with raw empathy, not emotional exploitation.
Elsewhere, charting the journey of Zurawski, Casiano, and Denard—the first patient plaintiffs to testify in favor of abortion rights since Roe v. Wade—we witness testimonies, the unsympathetic attorney general Ken Paxton, the tragic funeral home negotiations, the trauma-induced eating disorders, the unspeakable grief, the difficult phone calls made and received throughout, about failed pregnancies, medical bills, court rulings, and so on. Fortunately, there are moments of light and humor, too, as the women’s personalities and determination emerge against all odds. In one instance, Crowe and Piro’s unobtrusive camera lingers on Duane’s coffee cup just long enough for us to read its motto: “Don’t talk to me until I get my reproductive rights.”
Zurawski v. Texas wisely argues that abortion access—currently supported by Democrats, denied by the Republican Party—should not be a left-wing or right-wing issue, but a bipartisan one. To that end, the formerly Republican Zurawski family members reveal their political shift after holding Amanda’s hand through her battles. The film also challenges the gendered interpretation of abortion as a women’s issue, emphasizing the long-term goals of abortion access, such as healthy family growth on one’s own terms and the resulting societal well-being. With its insistence on prioritizing individual stories over cold talking points, Zurawski v. Texas is the first abortion-focused documentary that comes close to the emotional power of Martha Shinn and Lana Wilson’s 2013 film After Tiller.
Another of the documentary’s achievements is the stark revelation that Texas’ confusing abortion rules are actually designed to create anxiety among health care workers and their patients, while the state itself cynically deflects blame. But as Dr. Dennard succinctly puts it, “You think it’s about your pregnancy, but it’s really about the state’s pregnancy.” The ambiguity robs both parties of agency. Zurawski v. Texas makes this point explicitly, and it becomes all the more effective when Kate Cox joins the plaintiffs in the midst of her own medical emergency, while Duane tries to secure an emergency exemption for her from the state of Texas.
For all the women and their families, there are small victories of dignity along the way. But it shouldn’t spoil the fun to say that the ongoing losses are greater and more significant—a depressing note on which Zurawski vs. Texas has no choice but to end. But it’s miraculous that amidst this loss, something other than defeat emerges: hope, carried by the brave fighters to whom this film gives a voice.
