‘Women Talking’
THE FILM, “WOMEN TALKING,” directed by Sarah Polley, is ultimately a story about thinking. Thinking and talking about things too painful to discuss with comfortable ease. The screenplay is adapted from the novel written by Miriam Towes. The novel is based on the horrifying real events that took place in an ultra-conservative Mennonite colony in Bolivia between 2005 and 2009. Poignant and pointed, the script is an alchemical cauldron in which a legacy of violence is given room to be healed and redeemed.
The main grievance that the women are talking about is one that women know too well. It is an eternal story, a story about the abuse of power and the pitfalls of faith and their repercussions. It is also a story about courage. Despite the difficult subject matter, the movie gracefully and delicately moves along through seemingly insignificant domestic acts. There is a quiet to the film which gives the audience room to think about what they are witnessing and what is unfolding in front of them in the tense conversation. Quiet is coupled by a melodic and beautiful soundtrack. Such music is necessary for this film, which centers on terrible and unspeakable things. The epic soundtrack has a soothing effect that continues to lift the spirit as the conversation goes deeper into the pain and the matter of resolution. The women know that a choice must be made — stay and fight, do nothing, or leave. This is the question that must be resolved by these women, and it must be resolved in the context of their ultraconservative religious beliefs, their illiteracy, their own safety, and dignity, and that of their children.
The film’s stars — Claire Foy, Jessie Buckley, Rooney Mara, Sheila McCarthy, Judith Ivey, August Winter, Michelle McLeod and Frances McDormand (who is also a producer) — flawlessly deliver this incredible and tough script. These women all hold the tension of true faith in the company of the pain of absolute betrayal with honest conviction. It’s almost as if they have experience with the subject matter. And why wouldn’t they, when the statistics of abuses against women are staggering worldwide. The one male star of this film, Ben Whishaw, plays his role with palpable tenderness and sensitivity through which it is clear why his is the only adult male face that makes it onto the screen. One must commend director Sarah Polley for knowing what to leave out of this work of art. Left out are images that are all too easy to conjure up on one’s own. The kind of images that would make it easy to place blame and never forgive.
Images that linger in your mind after seeing this film are not images of abuse. Rather, simple images hold fast to the psyche. Images of pencil drawings showing the ordinary joys of being in relationship. Images of modest dresses, unpretentious and innocent faces in humble settings, and long expansive views.
Regardless of being slow moving with long character discourses, the film is a cinematic work of art. Recurring shots of children playing and laughing in verdant and bountiful fields shot through a murky filter are a reminder of the swamp of women’s history, and the legacy of rape. A legacy that is obfuscated and painted over in the saccharin of floral prints and pastels. Colors and prints the girl children are wearing while they play their pain away behind the murky filter. Close-up shots of hands touching with love and sympathy in the presence of insufferable agony depict the culture of care found in circles of women who share trauma. The strength needed to look hopefully to the future overtakes the psyche of actors and audience alike as doors are literally thrown open and air is let into the room. Tension is broken with prayer, song and the invitation to remember mercy and compassion. Subtle complexities dance through the cinematic simplicity of this film and make it more than just a bunch of talking heads discussing horrific trauma.
It is not easy to leave your audience feeling hopeful and even forgiving when you take them on cinematic journey through a conversation about rape, but Sarah Polley — and everyone who participated in making this work of art — have done it. The film is a gift for this reason alone. Add to that its honesty, courage, tenderness, brilliance, beauty and gentle persistence to arrive at an end that requires its viewer to think and make up their own mind about it all, which makes the film a transcendental masterpiece.
“Women Talking” is nominated for Best Adapted Screenplay and Best Picture at the upcoming 95th Academy Awards.