Erin Brockovich

Erin Brockovich is one of those biopics that’s both incredibly watchable and quietly subversive. Julia Roberts plays the title character, an unemployed single mom who pretty much stumbles into a legal drama that winds up being far bigger than any of the actual lawyers around her originally realize. What I love about this movie is that it refuses to get bogged down in melodrama or turn its real-life heroine into a caricature of girlboss clichés. Instead, Roberts’s performance keeps things grounded—she swears, fumbles, and fights the system in leopard print and tight skirts, making her real and likable.

The story itself is rooted in true events: the infamous water contamination case against Pacific Gas & Electric in Hinkley, California. Rather than lean into dry legalese or endless courtroom scenes, the film focuses on the raw, day-to-day legwork. This is where the movie truly shines. Erin isn’t a trained paralegal, but we get to see her chasing down files, talking to anyone who’ll listen, and just generally refusing to take no for an answer. These sequences do a great job of building momentum. You get a real sense that big change only ever happens because a stubborn person decides to give a damn.

Steven Soderbergh’s direction is sharp but not showy. There are no gimmicks or over-stylized scenes (this isn’t a David Fincher film). Instead, the camera work is warm and intimate, especially in the scenes with Erin’s kids or the Hinkley residents. I found the use of natural light and real locations gave everything a tactile, lived-in feel. It’s not glamorous, but that’s exactly why it works—the film never tries to look prettier than real life.

Aside from Roberts, Albert Finney is another standout as Erin’s reluctant boss, Ed Masry. Their dynamic is much better than your average odd-couple workplace setup: he’s gruff, stubborn, and unwilling to bend rules until Erin comes barreling in with her boundary-pushing honesty. Their arguments feel authentic, sometimes petty, and weirdly funny. There’s a rhythm to their back-and-forth that breaks the usual “mentor-mentee” mold.

If there’s a weak spot, it’s the pacing in the latter half. The movie sometimes gets a little bogged down in procedural details about legal briefs or client outreach. You don’t need a JD to follow, but you might catch yourself checking your phone during a particularly dense info dump. It’s not enough to derail things completely, but the energy dips compared to the punchier first hour.

Tone-wise, Erin Brockovich has a light touch. It never gets too self-serious, even when the stakes are huge. There’s a sly sense of humor running through the script, like Erin’s brutally honest comebacks or her total lack of interest in office culture. It’s a relief to watch a biopic that remembers its subject was funny and complicated instead of turning her into a saint. The emotional weight comes more from watching the Hinkley residents suffer and the slow burn of realization—Roberts doesn’t rely on tears or big Oscar-clip moments, and the movie is better for it.

Another thing I appreciated is how the movie sidesteps a lot of the tropes you’d expect. There’s no endless moralizing about who deserves to fight for justice. Erin’s life is messy; her relationships are thorny and imperfect. Relationships with her neighbors, clients, even her love interest, are written with just enough sharpness to keep things believable, and you root for her because she’s flawed, not in spite of it.

Overall, Erin Brockovich holds up really well even years after its release. It’s neither dusty Oscar bait nor a shallow “based on a true story” cash-grab. The performances—especially Roberts and Finney—give it heart, and the storytelling somehow covers corporate corruption, environmental horror, and the grind of everyday survival without ever feeling preachy. I always come back to it when someone wants a movie about real-life heroism that feels more reckless and relatable than most.