Photo © Universal Pictures
'Women Talking' film still
Women Talking
Women Talking is just that, an hour and three-quarters discussion among a group of women living in a bad place. Wearing braided hair and archaic peasant dresses, they live in an isolated farm colony dedicated to a degraded version of Christianity. It’s patriarchy to the ninth power—not only aren’t women taught to read or write in that place, or given say in their community, they are regularly raped by the men (not always their husbands) and subjected to other physical violence.
The plot pivots on this point: the colony’s “elders” have given the women two days to “forgive” their latest band of attackers. If they refuse, they will be denied entry to the kingdom of heaven. The women gather and agree that they have three choices: forgive, fight back or leave the colony.
Women Talking is directed by Canada’s Sarah Polley (the Oscar-nominated Away from Her) from the novel by Miriam Toews, loosely based on events among a sect of Protestant settlers in Bolivia. The film gives no idea of place, the time is identified only by the arrival of a 2010 census taker. The human landscape of horse-pulled buggies and homespun garb, the spartan farmhouses innocent of electricity, gives Women Talking a neverland feel. The film’s muted color palette, offset by occasional blood, enhances the impression of living in limbo.
Because the women can’t write, they ask the sympathetic schoolteacher, August (Ben Whimshaw), to take minutes. Opinions among the women vary greatly and evolve within their sometimes-heated discussion. Jane (Frances McDormand) believes that excommunication by their elders will lead to their eternal damnation. The other women aren’t so sure.
The screenplay unfolds within the bounds of a belief system—and its particular biblical language—whose ultimate truths none of them doubt. Their question is whether the “elders” have twisted and distorted their theology into an excuse for their own hypocrisy and egotism. Who gave them the keys to the kingdom of heaven? Christ counseled forgiveness, but can forgiveness be forced?
Mariche (Jessie Buckley) and Salome (Claire Foy) take radical positions, even advocating violence, while other women argue that violence is incompatible with Christianity. “By staying,” one of them says, “we are knowingly putting ourselves in a direct collision course with violence.” Ona (Rooney Mara) is philosophical and calmly determined. She agrees that they must leave.
Without giving away the ending, the resolution transcends realism and reaches for the epic; getting there is often fascinating.
Opens in theaters on January 13.
