Women Talking
The year is 2010, the women in an unnamed isolated religious community have no voice. They cannot read, they cannot write. They cannot vote and have no say in politics, the work force, and their own bodies. Occasionally, men of the colony would drug women with cow tranquilizer and rape them unconsciously for years. The women were dismissed and led to believe that the nighttime attacks are a result of a ghost or Satan or simply not real. After two of the girls in the colony catch one of the men attempting to break into their room to rape them, the women of the colony must decide how to react to this revelation.
“We were given two days to forgive the attackers before they returned. We hardly knew how to read or to write, but that day, we learned how to vote.’ Women Talking is a 2022 film directed by Sarah Polley based on the novel of the same name by Mariam Toews. It follows a group of women that decide to rally up to discuss social, civic, and religious issues regarding their decision to fight, forgive or leave their colony. The film stars Claire Foy as Salome, Rooney Mara as Ona, and Jessie Buckley as Mariche.
With dull bleak colors, the cinematography has a rural feel to it that feels very colonial. Additionally, the costumes adorned are reminiscent of what would be expected from a settlement in Salem in the 1600s. The costumes blend into the background in a way that makes the boho prairie plain dresses feel uninteresting but convincingly mimics Mennonite tradition. The visuals of the movie lean into a desaturated look that fits the film’s somber and brutal tone. The limited plot of land where the colony resides is equally bleak and devoid of life yet also, beautifully grim, and almost surreal. It comes as a shock when the women encounter a truck from the Government Census revealing that this takes place in 2010. Most of the film is set in a barn’s hayloft where the central characters sit and discuss what to do regarding the attacks.
This is a dialogue heavy movie. A lot of the film is reliant on the performances of Mara, Buckley, and Foy. All three actresses give very stern and emotional performances and there is no character that outshines the rest. This serves as a strength because it really helps demonstrate how this is a collective conversation and decision. Every performance felt important, and the range of characters manages to convey several perspectives and attitudes. Even Frances McDormand who has a relatively small amount of screentime plays a significant role as Scarface Janz. Her character is a great example of ‘show not tell’ as her inaction and apathy is the face of another perspective. Claire Foy’s performance is lively and animated. Her character Salome is ready to fight. Her 4-year-old daughter is another survivor, and she is so enraged with the men that she takes a sickle and attacks one of the men. Her character holds a fiery rage, that refuses to extinguish as Foy ensures Salome is a powerful presence on screen. In contrast, Rooney Mara’s character Ona is the sister of Salome and seems lean into a more forgiving and empathetic approach. Mara’s performance is calm and unpredictable at times. Ona is unmarried and pregnant from one of the assaults. She asserts a lot of consideration and care into her statements and advocates for peace and love. Buckley’s Mariche has a tough exterior but there is a lot of fear underneath it all. She is strong and witty and seems as though she has conditioned herself to accept this life. She is fearful of the unknown and is worried about where they will go and how they will just pack up and leave. She is the last to be convinced to leave.
The main three women shine throughout the runtime, but this is a movie about womanhood and unity. Grandmothers, mothers, and daughters are all included throughout the movie. Agata (Judith Ivey) and Greta (Sheila McCarthy) phenomenally demonstrate a moving sense of regret. There is a lot of compassion and sorrow carefully woven into the roles. As the older generation, they have an innate fear to leave, as this is the only home they have ever known. To them, this is the way of life. However, the characters convey a strong will to change not just for themselves and their daughters but for the future women. There is a level of brutal accountability that is gracefully and directly felt from the older generation for passively enabling this by not talking about it. Autje (Kate Hallet) and Nietje (Liv McNeil) are representative of the younger generation and there is already a resistance to the current way of life. They are just as involved in the conversation despite the lack of screentime allotted. They are hopeful and resilient and almost instantly aim for freedom. One of two men allowed to stay, August (Ben Whishaw) serves as a neutral party allowed to take the minutes of the meeting. Whishaw does a tender job as August who idly stays unopinionated while pining over Ona.
The score felt like a very important part of the film despite its reserved nature. It was composed by Hildur Guonadottir. Although the film is very dialog heavy, the music is very down to earth. It feels very rural and gives the cinematography a chance to breathe. At times the movie feels like a stage play with a lot of the monologues and conversations however the pauses in discourse fill the auditorium with guitars and simple orchestral strings. This along with the costume and cinematography combine to allude to the film taking place in a more colonial period.
The film can be difficult to watch at times. Glimpses of waking up in bloodied sheets and with bruised and bloodied thighs and legs. The subject matter is very serious, and it gives the women of the colony an opportunity to talk and submerses audiences to their struggles. This isn’t an easy decision. What about forgiveness? What about their faith? Their entrance to heaven? To simply put it, there is a lot for the women to talk about especially after not being listened to for decades. As Ona tells August, “How would you feel if in your entire life it never mattered what you thought?”