Directed By Sarah Polley

Starring – Rooney Mara, Claire Foy, Jessie Buckley

The Plot – Based on the Canadian novel of the same name, The story follows eight Mennonite women who conduct a secret meeting in a hayloft barn to discuss their options after learning that they have been repeatedly drugged and raped by men in their colony.

Rated PG-13 for mature thematic content including sexual assault, bloody images, and some strong adult language

WOMEN TALKING | Official Trailer 2 – YouTube

POSITIVES

With her most personally searing and creatively soaring direction to date, Polley has commanded a powerfully evocative and scintillating firestorm of feminist adversity, and one that feels all the more relevant within the confines of the many outdated laws and ideals that unfortunately still render them victimized today. It’s a universally commanding sentiment, but one that is pulled off exceptionally and effortlessly from a simplistic rendering, which not only unravels the narrative from one consistent location, granting a claustrophobically incarcerated feeling to the women in question, while also driving all of the story’s suspense and urgency from the dialogue that is crafted so naturally from Polley. This affords the characters the freedom to explore their own causes inside of the organically layered commentary from within, bringing forth gravely vital discussions requiring communication from both sides, men and women, to help alleviate the injustices that have pitted one side against the other. Because the film is a dialogue-dependent engagement, it requires more commitment to the characters than initially anticipated, but thanks in whole to the dream team female ensemble stacked brilliantly from the casting, we’re treated to no shortage of captivating instances affording each of them an opportunity to juggle these complex characters with the kind of ferocity and resiliency that speaks volumes of their tenacity as gifted actresses. Foy and Buckley are easily my favorite, based in part by the rage and remorse that each are forced to conjure with nothing more than their recollection of memories illustrating the cause. However, Mara’s gentility transcribes a simultaneously unnerving and fearless consistency that feels so diverse from her respective counterparts, often making her the voice of reason when compared to others who are ready to act first and think second. Polley drives each of them beyond their respective comfort zones, in turn bearing the brunt of physical and emotional baggage that has rendered each of them blind with the vengeance that fuels their confrontational demeanors. Beyond the performances, the production values are equally enticing, with Hildur Gudnaddotir’s surprisingly hopeful score and Luc Montpellier experimenting with color grading to inscribe his own element of meaning to the engagement. On the former, the music is used sparingly enough that we grow to appreciate the ominous dread of silence in the atmosphere, with acoustic strings and momentary brushes of the piano keys serving as the compass to hopefulness that brings these characters home, and on the latter, Montpellier vividly conveys the moral instability and outdated idealism with an intentionally weathered color pallet that nearly makes the aesthetic feel drably colorless, but in ways that work poetically with the plot. Lastly, one element of Polley’s direction that I didn’t initially mention, but one worth dissecting is her class and restraint with imagery that keeps some of the gruesome imagery and oppressors free from the view of depiction. In discovering that this was a PG-13 film, I feared for the effectiveness of what Polley could actually show, but as it turns out her need for exploitation rightfully checked itself at the door, instead cementing value where it rightfully should be: by the wayside of those oppressed to systematic sexism.

NEGATIVES

While this is an almost unanimously gripping triumph to the storytelling of Sarah Polley, it isn’t without momentary hiccups on instances that she could use emphasis in direction to further grow from. The first pertains to the production’s editing, with these visual flashbacks echoing the instances and events of those being shaped by the dialogue in the foreground of the narrative. This is certainly nothing new or original with contemporary cinema, but in this instance, I felt that it inscribed a bit too much freedom from the ominous urgency that was being shaped provocatively in the primary setting, based entirely on the usage of its gimmick of exploration, which felt too often for a 93-minute engagement. What’s worse is the exposition feels a bit too loaded and heavy handed during these flashbacks, removing some of the organic appeal of the many evolving conversations, for these momentary instances where it holds the hand of the audience at home. In addition to this, the only other major problem I felt was the climax and ensuing resolution feeling a bit too underwhelming and even inconsequential to the conflict built so monumentally throughout. Because this is a film that makes the most of its minutes by constantly emphasizing the tension and confrontational inevitability, the blow-off doesn’t quite rise to the occasion, leading to a resolution whose reach far exceeds the grasp of its climactic impact.

OVERALL
“Women Talking” is a thought-provoking and poignantly empowering addition from actress-turned-director Sarah Polley, whose trust for the material and her female-dominated ensemble help the latter to flourish with the kind of fiery tenacity that keeps you gripped for 93 minutes of dialogue disposal. Though the cathartic ending omits some of the momentum initially promised by an inevitably searing confrontation, the talk pertaining to feminist subjugation is what’s most important, with an emphasis on listening to help bridge the divide that has only grown wider with time.

My Grade: 8/10 or B+