Women Talking

Director-writer Sarah Polley returns for her fourth feature with an adaptation of Miriam Toews’s Women Talking.   Polley stays true to the novel by setting the place of conversation amongst the Mennonite women in a hayloft who must decide their fate in 48 hours. For years they have been drugged and raped during the night, but believed it was done by evil spirits until two young girls see one of the male attackers discovering that it has been the men’s doing the entire time. There are three options they can take: do nothing and forgive the men, stay and fight for equal rights, or leave the colony. They enlist the help of a trusted man, schoolteacher August, to filter their discussion and take minutes. While a man is present, it is the women comprised of a group of established and new talent who drive the film.

From the beginning of the film, the young narrator lets the audience know that there is a future for these women, the story is about how they get there. Polley sets the film to feel like the past with its sepia color grading and little mention of the year until a truck drives by blasting Daydream Believer. This reveal is jarring and is the moment when the audience comes to a realization that this is set in the modern day and how relevant the women’s debate is. A big online debate has come out around the desaturated color grading in the film. The use of these muted colors is supposed to signal a look back into a time that is not pleasant for many of these women and the lack of beauty in the restricted world they once knew. They wouldn’t think back on this moment through rose-colored glasses when their entire livelihood is at stake. With this context, the cinematography is appropriate to help set the tone and frame each woman’s perspective as they all unfold simultaneously.

The dynamic ensemble featuring Rooney Mara, Claire Foy, and Ben Whishaw engages in a lively discussion on what to do next. Foy is pent up with anger about what happened to her daughter while Mara offsets that rage with a dreamy spirit that is hiding an inner sadness. In contrast to Foy is Jessie Buckley’s Mariche who because of her abusive marriage wants to leave. These two women show opposite ends of the spectrum that allow for moments of explosions in the dialogue. The three generations of women flow so well together, giving each one their moment without overshadowing the other. The characters are richly written with something to bring to the conversation at play. Polley makes this movie about her actors and it pays off in the final product. 

The dialogue is captivating as the audience hangs onto each word uttered by the women. Polley’s screenplay immediately sets up the three positions, what is at stake, and the women’s individual beliefs before breaking down the pros and cons of their life-changing decision. Polley is a master at handling this dire moment with care and consideration for each of her characters. The script dives into every fear, hope, and pain of the unknown within the conversation and experiences of the women in a way that feels so natural. The way the conversation is explored feels philosophical in answering a question in terms of what is fixable. It feels like an exercise to create a world of possibilities that can be discussed passed their difficulties to make sure every idea is heard. There is patience to hear all sides and then digest the varied ideas into one agreement. The conversation is endless but never dulls as the stakes remain high to make the decision that will change not only their future but the future of the newer generations to come. 

There are not many locations throughout the film, the main dialogue takes place in the barn with multiple breaks set in other locations. For the limited location, the script and performances give the full extent of the world these women have been suffering in. Their experiences fill in the history that allows the viewer to put together the moments not on screen t complete the story. The conversation is already groundbreaking for this group and whatever outcome they make these 48 hours will change the women. Mix in the danger lingering of the men returning to the colony and Polley creates a moment of infamy that will pave the future for the women and their children. Even though the men are never shown except for brief moments, their presence is felt in the air. Further escalating the idea that these women will never be the same is the powerful score by Oscar winner Hildur Guðnadóttir that feels like a call to action in itself. 

With one of the best-written screenplays of the year, Polley’s adaptation of the novel delivers a haunting film that is a striking look at women’s rights and the emotional weight of making a dire decision for the future of a people.