When the women who sued the City of Austin in 2018 for mishandling sexual assault cases are introduced in Julie Lunde Lillesæter’s directorial debut, they are labeled Plaintiffs 1-15. Each face is distinctive from the next; the women come from different socioeconomic backgrounds and different age groups, reminding the audience that no woman is protected.

An Army of Women begins with staggering statistics. 1,000 rape cases are reported in Travis County each year, and only 10% of rape cases go reported. 10,000 rape cases in the county are concerning enough in itself, but when this is coupled with the fact the only case taken to trial was for a man when women are disproportionately the victims, an alarm sounds. Not only does the state of Texas, which has essentially banned abortion with few exceptions, have little care for the autonomy of women’s bodies, but neither does District Attorney Margaret Moore, who was more concerned with protecting the accused than the assaulted.

The plaintiffs come to life after acquainting the viewer with the numbers and disappointing system for handling the cases. While she is introduced under the pseudonym “Amy Smith” – to protect herself and her family from the man who walks freely even though he kidnapped and raped her 15 years ago – the viewer still gauges how strong this woman is. Her seriousness contradicts Marina Garrett, a young, bubbly woman who was raped on a night out on Sixth Street when entering her sophomore year of college at UT Austin. Garrett revealed that the trauma of the rape led her to drop out of school and made her fear leaving bed at the thought of seeing her rapist, who was not also not charged for his actions. 

Both of these women touch on feeling unimportant, which, given how they were treated by their attackers and by the city’s negligence, makes sense. Additionally, Hanna is another plaintiff with a lot of screen time. She is nurturing and level-headed, and – despite the wide age-gap – builds a special friendship with Marina. Hanna is now a mother and wife living a seemingly luxurious life in Austin, still grapples with her decades-old rapes. She was raped twice, though she discredits the severity of the first instance of rape because she was intoxicated, something that the Austin Police Department and Moore will use as an excuse to ignore these women.

As lawyers and power-couple Jennifer Eckland and Elizabeth Myers’ – who met working on the case and fell in love – commit to working towards justice for these 15 women, passion and hope slowly come back. Eckland and Myers treat each of these women with respect and empathy, something that contradicts how the city has treated them. While the inclusion of Eckland and Myers’ love story initially feels like a slight derail from the subject at hand – the case against the District Attorney’s Office and Austin Police Department – it is clear that it is not shown because of the objectively adorable story that a whole different movie could focus on, but because it emphasizes how the case brought women fighting together.

Lillesæter also includes the bond that the plaintiffs have with one another. The case spanned over four years, and the women with very different backgrounds formed special bonds. Marina jokes about how she wonders how it happened that all of her best friends are forty-year-old women, but she loves it. During the 2020 election for District Attorney, the women shared drinks, or “José Rosés,” over Zoom as they teared up and watched José Garza – who stood with these victims – triumph over Margaret Moore. The comradery between these women is especially evident when they speak in front of the city council, supporting one another as each woman went on the stand and shared the emotional ties and the severity of this case. 

The movie succeeds in personifying statistics and making an intricate issue and legal case fathomable for the viewer. It allows you to understand and empathize with the plaintiffs and understand how they change the narrative of victimhood to their fight to gain personal justice and protect other women.