Women Talking: All you need to do is listen
Judith Ivey and Claire Foy (from left) in Women Talking
Women Talking is a simple narrative that revolves around a very complex choice: do nothing, stay and fight, or leave.
Sarah Polley’s adaptation of Canadian author Miriam Toews’s internationally bestselling novel is based on true events. In a remote Mennonite colony in Bolivia between 2005 and 2009, more than 130 women were anaesthetised and raped. Toews’s novel, and Polley’s film, is a fictional account of eight women meeting in secret to decide what to do following the men's arrests.
The ensemble cast of Women Talking
Many might slump under the synopsis “women talk for 104 minutes”, but no discussion is ever dry, boring or without purpose. We are absorbed in their time-restricted debate as no shortage of disagreements over faith, forgiveness, free-will and freedom play out. Their verbal volley is punctuated by humour. Real female humour. The witty type, the theatrical type, the all-consuming type.
Polley examines every side of the prismatic overarching choice in engaging, well-paced scenes, but beyond that she brings out a nuance in each performance that illuminates the women’s personality clashes. Their empathy for each other swells and dips as they remember their shared trauma (shown effectively through short flashbacks which never glorify the violence). But still, each woman is their own. These women, who were made to believe their abuse was “the work of ghosts or Satan”, are forced to think for themselves for the first time – it’s something we take for granted, this right that every person should have – and it is not without its challenges.
Emily Mitchell, Claire Foy and Rooney Mara (from left)
The Crown’s Claire Foy is a standout among the cast, with two fiery speeches in particular that pull the audience into her character’s hurt. Jessie Buckley, who led Alex Garland’s unnerving 2022 horror Men, is equally brilliant as her character, Mariche, brims with sour frustration. Her rage is often targeted at August (Ben Whishaw), the women’s submissive and kind minute taker, as she instructs him not to speak. “Just listen,” she says, in a voice that is aching to be heard.
“I will destroy any living thing that harms my child” – Salome (Claire Foy)
August is all empathy. “I’m sorry,” he utters to pregnant Ona (Rooney Mara) for the atrocities committed by his sex. “One day I’d like to hear that from someone who should be saying it,” the gentile mother-to-be replies. This is how the film wounds us the most: with its humanity.
Ben Whishaw, Rooney Mara and Claire Foy (from left)
It’s hard to believe this is 18-year-old Kate Hallett’s first acting role. With pursed lips keeping words of anger locked away, Autje, Mariche’s daughter, watches the older generations drag out a choice that is to her so obvious. The story rests on Autje’s shoulders as she narrates the moving tale to Ona’s unborn baby. This narrative choice highlights the themes of sacrifice, hope and love braided into Polley’s screenplay.
Disappointingly though, Frances McDormand has only a few minutes’ screentime. Anyone who is familiar with the Oscar-winner’s decorated filmography will know what she is capable of with a script as vehemently vocal as this one. But the choice is justified with the hilarious Sheila McCarthy and the sympathising Judith Ivey balancing the younger women’s more brash decision-making with poised wisdom.
Jessie Buckley as Mariche
Over-the-shoulder shots by cinematographer Luc Montpellier are used with great attention to the characters’ unspoken desires and hesitations. He seamlessly alternates between deep and shallow depth of field to allow the camera to speak the incommunicable.
Not all the visual aspects of the film work as well. The worst being the colour grading. The heavily desaturated colours make for a suffocating viewing experience. This feels patronising of Polley. The audience understands what’s at stake, so there’s no need for the extra emphasis on the miserable conditions of living. For the film’s writing, acting and directing achievements, this post-production folly is forgivable.
Writer and director Sarah Polley filming Women Talking
Despite Best Picture and Best Adapted Screenplay nominations, Polley was not recognised in the all-male Best Director category at this year’s Oscars ceremony. However, there is still a chance to make history at the 95th Academy Awards next month; if Polley takes home Best Adapted Screenplay, it will be the first time the category has had back-to-back female winners, after Sian Heder’s Coda.
What makes Women Talking so authentic to the universal female experience is the way the women clash and connect. They are not holding hands in a circle, but they are listening to each other, arriving one step closer to a decision. Will they fight to destroy, fight to achieve, or leave the colony behind – devoid of even a crumb of their old selves?
