Friday, BBC2, 11:05pm
Sarah Polley’s Women Talking is an understated yet searing cinematic exploration of trauma, survival, and collective agency, set within a secluded religious colony. The film follows a group of women as they wrestle with unimaginable grief and betrayal after a series of assaults by the men in their community. Their decision—whether to leave or stay and fight—is rendered with profound empathy and sharp dialogue, grounded by Polley’s restrained yet powerful direction. The ensemble cast, including Rooney Mara, Claire Foy, and Jessie Buckley, deliver deeply layered performances that evoke the complexities of female solidarity and resilience. The film’s muted color palette and austere visuals mirror the stark emotional landscape, drawing viewers into the intimate, pressing nature of these women’s conversations.
Complementing this intimate tone is a hauntingly restrained score by Icelandic composer Hildur Guðnadóttir, known for her Academy Award-winning work on Joker. Here, Guðnadóttir swaps grand orchestrations for quiet, almost reverent instrumentation that serves as an emotional undercurrent for the film’s themes. Strings are used sparingly but effectively, their melancholic resonance capturing both the desolation and the strength within these women’s lives. The minimalist score allows the dialogue to take precedence, with the music slipping in and out like a subtle echo of the women’s shared pain and determination. Guðnadóttir’s work is a masterclass in emotional subtlety, refusing to overwhelm or direct the viewer’s emotions but rather existing as a delicate reflection of the characters’ inner turmoil.
The soundtrack’s sparseness mirrors the simplicity of the women’s lives, amplifying the film’s atmosphere of constrained desperation. By restraining from sentimentality, Guðnadóttir allows the soundtrack to serve as a silent witness to the difficult, morally ambiguous choices the women face. In Women Talking, music is not a crutch but a companion to silence, inviting viewers to feel the weight of each decision without the comforting balm of resolution. This musical approach not only enhances the raw power of Polley’s film but solidifies Guðnadóttir’s role as a composer capable of transforming subtlety into profound resonance. Together, Polley and Guðnadóttir create an auditory and visual space that honors the quiet strength found in shared voices.
- Daisy Rae