Women Talking
If they go there will be trouble, and if they stay it will be double. Such is the conundrum at the heart of Women Talking, a gut punch of “female imagination” from director Sarah Polley and novelist Miriam Toews (who wrote the book upon which this film is based). An imagined response to the horribly true (and recent) events that took place in a Mennonite commune in Bolivia, the film deals with the theological, the existential and the practical, as a group of women who’ve experienced horrendous abuse and violence deliberate on their collective future. Featuring a cast as powerful as its premise, Women Talking is a deeply affecting and intimate study of revolutions that seed in unlikely (and often overlooked) places.
In a quaint religious colony, a bad bunch have taken to subduing female victims with animal tranquilliser and committing acts resulting in bruises, heavy bleeding, pregnancy and, sometimes, death. After being told by the elders that such acts were the result of ghosts, demons, or simply wild female hysteria, the women finally identify a group of very real perpetrators and demand their arrest. In a town nearby, the accused sit in cells as the rest of the men travel to bail them out without question, leaving the other halves of the colony with two days to decide on their best move. They commit their first act of revolution in casting a vote towards the options 1) do nothing, 2) stay and fight (and likely suffer more violence), and 3) get the hell out of dodge.
Ben Whishaw, Rooney Mara and Claire Foy in Women Talking [courtesy Universal Pictures]
On the upper level of a barn they convene, letting the almost unanimously terrible first option trail behind and tossing up the pros and cons of tied options 2 and 3 as August (Ben Whishaw), a college man and the excommunicated son of a former female rebel, takes the minutes of the meeting. Salome (Claire Foy) is a staunch defender of the offensive option, her female rage in glorious display for the film’s duration as the mother of the youngest victim (who needed antibiotics to survive after her attack). Ona (Rooney Mara) is a pregnant fence-sitter and the object of August’s desire, admirably serene in her difficult situation and entirely willing to consider all arguments. Mariche (Jessie Buckley) is the Juror # 3 of the piece, the holdout who believes that their only real option (for keeping their place in Heaven) is to forgive the men. Three generations of women ponder deep questions and their consequences in what could have been a stagey affair, but instead is a thrilling, emotional wallop for (hopefully) any audience.
I experienced Women Talking with a blissfully ignorant mind, unaware of the film’s horrific inspirations and the time period in which it is set. I’m not much of a reader (despite what my Etsy purchase history might suggest) and until I attended the screening of the film where copies of the book were hidden under the armrests of a few lucky attendees, I had no idea that any source material existed. When a census taker rolls into the colony blasting ‘Daydream Believer’ I thought my confusion over the decade had been answered, but what’s so clever about the film’s design is that its events are less tied to a specific time than they are to an ideal of escape to something brighter, almost beyond reach.
The chosen colour palette and juxtaposition between the desaturation of the colony and the technicolour horizon (seen through windows and in the distance as far as the road stretches) beautifully complement the way in which the option 3 supporters speak with hope for their future. To stay and fight likely involves only one colour, but what does a picture without corrupt authority and false prophets look like? What Women Talking does so well is make any palette seem correct; there’s not one moment where Salome’s wrath is unwarranted, nor where Mariche’s fear of male punishment is unjustified, nor where Ona’s changes of mind seem flippant. Witnessing the anxieties, outbursts and collective trauma play out differently on each beautifully expressive face is as painful for the audience as it is for the characters, a testament to both Polley’s writing and direction, and the incredible performances from the ensemble cast.
Jessie Buckley as Mariche [courtesy Universal Pictures]
It’s impossible to pick a standout from the three leads; Foy, Mara and Buckley are operating at their absolute peaks, bouncing off each other with a charisma rarely seen. There’s not a weak link in the supporting cast, with sublime efforts from Judith Ivey and Sheila McCarthy as the female elders, while Ben Whishaw further cements that we don’t really deserve him (in bear form or otherwise). Interviews with the actors suggest that Polley worked hard to create an environment that prioritised their need for balance between personal lives and work, an effort that is paid back tenfold by all involved. Hildur Guðnadóttir’s subtly powerful score perfectly conveys the darkness, resolve and determination exhibited by the women throughout their decision-making process, as well as the deep sadness of what they’ve been through. Having previously scored Todd Field’s Tár, Craig Mazin’s breakout miniseries Chernobyl (for which she won an Emmy, a BAFTA and a Grammy) and Todd Philip’s Joker (an Academy Award) hers is a name that has well and truly entered the conversation of film composer excellence.
The only gripe I could possibly have with Women Talking is its lack of Frances McDormand, her presence being more of a cameo than perhaps the poster suggested. If she is your main reason for seeing the film, it would be worth choosing another (there are at least three, and all are worthy of as much reverence). The rest is just listening and absorbing - something the bloke behind us obviously failed to do when he summed the film up with “well yeah, it was pretty much women talking.” To that, I have only one question: how did you feel about 12 Angry Men?
Verdict: ☆☆☆☆½
Women Talking is in cinemas February 16.
