Women Talking
“Women Talking doesn’t stop with what women can do for each other. It also shows what true allyship from men looks like.”
Title: Women Talking (2023)
Director: Sarah Polley 👩🏼🇨🇦
Writers: Sarah Polley 👩🏼🇨🇦 based on the book by Miriam Toews 👩🏼🇨🇦
Reviewed by Carolyn Hinds 👩🏾🇧🇧🇨🇦♿️
—MAJOR SPOILERS AHEAD—
Technical: 5/5
Women Talking hosts a solemn, sometimes heartbreaking discussion about what it means to have a voice in our own lives. Based on the award-winning 2018 novel by Miriam Toews, which itself was inspired by true events that occurred in a Bolivian Mennonite society, the film takes place across two days during which a group of sexually abused Mennonite women debate whether they should stand their ground and fight the male perpetrators within their colony, or escape to an unsure future in the outside world.
When it comes to films that center the stories and experiences of women, very few so precisely capture the psychological tolls of what it means to grow up in a violent, patriarchal society. In Women Talking, Polley and casting directors John Buchan and Jason Knight select some of the best veteran and up-and-coming actors today, such as Rooney Mara (who’s almost unrecognizable, thanks to the flawless work of the makeup department) as the contemplative Ona, Claire Foy as Solme, a woman seething with barely restrained rage, Jessie Buckley as Mariche, and so many more. The excellence of this film sits firmly on their impactful performances.
Gender: 5/5
Does it pass the Bechdel Test? YES
Though never formally educated or taught to read and write, these women show sharp intelligence. Even without access to information about the world and politics, they exhibit a deep understanding of how society works. They dream of living freely and constructing a utopia that would function as a democracy, one in which each person is equally valued, heard, and acknowledged.
The way Polley shows the beauty of the female mind when given time to flourish is what makes Women Talking such an important film. Nor does it stop with what women can do for each other; the film also shows what allyship from men looks like via the character of August (Ben Whishaw), their secretary who takes meeting minutes and documents the momentous gathering.
Having been previously excommunicated from the colony with his parents, August knows all too well how terrifying it is to consider leaving the only home you’ve ever known. This empathy comes to the fore when the gathered women eventually decide they have no choice but to leave. He inherently understands that his role as an ally is to bear witness, and to be willing to oppose systems of oppression—in this case, the Mennonite elders and their restrictive rules and religious ideologies—when he must.
Race: 1.25/5
Women Talking features a religious colony with roots in the Netherlands, Switzerland, and southern Germany, so there’s no expectation of finding characters of color in the film’s insular setting. Their teachings involve isolationist principles, which includes no intermingling with people of other religions, much less of other races and ethnicities.
However, Polley did have one opportunity to reflect the film’s modern-day setting: When a census truck drives by on the outskirts of their compound, it would’ve been easy to cast a person of color as the driver. Instead, the truck is driven by a white man (Will Bowes).
It’s possible this decision was intentional, perhaps subtly pointing out that the outside world isn’t the paradise the women believe it to be. The driver could just as easily have been one of their assaulters, from a symbolic standpoint. Where patriarchy thrives, so does violence against the most vulnerable members of society.
Bonus for Disability: +0.50
Women Talking demonstrates how sexual and physical abuse leaves palpable scars on its victims. Serving as mediator when tensions run high, Greta (Sheila McCarthy) lightens the atmosphere with a story about her two horses. But even as she shares a joke and provides comfort, it’s revealed that she wears dentures. A number of her teeth had been destroyed due to brutal physical assault. To many, dentures might not seem like a disability aid, but they are—making it possible for people to eat, speak, and provide physical support for their facial features. And many of the film’s women live with invisible mental trauma, the effects of which can be seen through Greta’s daughter, Mejal (Michelle McLeod), who has a panic attack during the movie.
Bonus for LGBTQ: +0.50
Melvin (August Winter), a young transgender man, moves quietly among the women in this story. He exists literally and metaphorically on the margins of their closed society, looked at with a sense of curiosity by the women who can’t quite grasp the idea of gender identities outside of cisgender men and women. (Be aware, viewers do have to listen to deadnaming and misgendering for that reason.) But the women and children treat Melvin with gentleness and compassion, especially in contrast to the way he’s shunned by the cis men in the colony. The character is also given a story arc as a gender non-conforming person who eventually cuts his hair, wears male-presenting clothes (overalls and loose plaid shirts), and publicly embraces his true identity.
Given the difficulty of the material—Melvin’s backstory brims with horrific trauma—it’s positive to see that the trans and nonbinary actor, Winter, received support throughout the process. As Winter tells Autostraddle, a trauma psychologist named Lori Haskell was hired to work with the cast and crew, and Polley herself routinely reached out to Winter, among others, to make sure they were feeling okay. It’s wonderful to hear when a film’s writer-director demonstrates this level of care and responsibility, especially when actors are asked to internalize stories of trauma, mental illness, gender dysphoria, and other difficult material.
Mediaversity Grade: B 4.08/5
Women Talking may feature an all-white cast, but the characters’ longing to be free from violence and oppression is one that anyone from marginalized communities can relate to. The film brilliantly shows that schooling and social status are not accurate measures of a person’s intellect, arguing instead that every human being has the right to protection, to be valued for who they are, and to be heard and listened to when they speak.