Small Things Like These (2024)

Small Things Like These is an Irish movie adapted from a novel about a coal merchant attempting to understand his past and find the courage to defy a powerful Catholic organization that's torturing single pregnant women and stealing their children. In short, it's the story of Ireland's own failure to address the Magdalene asylums within their nation for centuries, told through the prism of one man.

The movie is exceptionally good by most metrics. Cillian Murphy plays the lead and seems to have been the main force driving the production - he's absolutely fantastic here. That goes for the rest of the cast, as well, but this is really Murphy's movie in more ways than one. Director Tim Mielants creates something impactful and memorable. The cinematography is likewise exceptional, capturing the grit of coal dust and soot that covers the buildings, just as the crime at the heart of the movie remains a blot on the nation (I said this was good, not subtle). It's an effective drama that packs an emotional punch, so if that sounds like something you'd be interested in, by all means take it as a strong recommendation.

Though I do have a nitpick. Actually "nitpick" might be too harsh a word. Maybe observation about a (hopefully) unintended side effect?

The issue (if this even counts as an issue) comes down to perspective and framing as it pertains to gender. Bill, played by Murphy, is the only character in the movie who's given a changing POV - we're meant to experience the story through his eyes alone and sympathize with his journey. The vast majority of the movie's other characters are women or girls - Bill has five daughters and no son, he was raised by a single mother and by her rich employer (also a woman), nuns of course run the asylum (and are the only representatives of the Church present), and the movie's third act centers on Bill finding the courage to overcome the advice of his wife and another woman to save a pregnant woman being tortured at the asylum. What we're left with is a situation where women in power are mainly antagonists (though there's nuance surrounding Bill's mother's employer), and other women are in need of protection.

I don't think it was at all intentional, but there's sort of an undercurrent to the movie implying women shouldn't have power or be listened to. Again, there is a bit more nuance than the above paragraph suggests: after Bill's mother died (this is the subject of several flashbacks), her employer took him in, and the movie paints her in a mostly positive light (though she also comes across as cold - pretty much every woman in the film does). It's also worth noting Bill's wife, while cautioning against challenging the church, is motivated by a desire to protect their children from retaliation - she's scared, not villainous. But the narrative is presented in a world where matriarchal forces are in control and men are inherently good but need to find the strength to do what's right (mostly Bill, but a man in flashbacks implied to be his father is similarly depicted as sensitive, caring, and well meaning).

I don't mean to imply this negates the value of the film or its message - it absolutely does not. And as I keep saying, I don't think this was an intentional attack on women or any kind of anti-feminist statement. But the structure of the film and the choice to focus entirely on a male protagonist does create some unfortunate implications that are worth acknowledging.

I feel like I mostly wrote around the plot already, which wasn't hard - this is absolutely a case where the story takes a backseat to the theme and vibe of the piece. It's a movie that wants to convey the difficulty of a situation, as well as the seriousness of the past, and most of the runtime is devoted to building a sense of the time and place. Bill doesn't directly confront the nuns, he doesn't really confide in anyone (aside from lightly broaching the subject with his wife), and the movie conveys its story visually, rather than through dialogue. In a sense, not much happens in the movie: Bill discovers a pregnant girl locked up in a coal shed, Sister Mary both threatens and bribes him to forget about the incident, but - as Bill reflects on his own past as the son of a single mother - he realizes he can't let it be and instead takes the girl into his home. The movie ends without telling us how the story resolved, closing on a dedication to the women who were abused in the Magdalene asylums and the children taken from them. That's basically the plot, but what matters here is the emotional weight. The film sells the toll this is taking on Bill and places us in his shoes.

The movie is unsurprisingly set around Christmas (unsurprising, because otherwise you wouldn't be reading about it here). For the most part, the connections are fairly obvious - it's a story about unwed mothers facing persecution, an idea resonating with the nativity. Only here the villain is the Catholic Church itself, whose actions are closer to those of Herod's than the compassionate approach promoted in the Gospels. In short, it uses the season to highlight the hypocrisy of the Church's behavior. As I said at the start, this is an effective movie, not a subtle one.

The movie offers a powerful condemnation of religious extremism and self-righteousness, as well as acting as a sort of apology on behalf of a nation that turned a blind eye out of fear. Despite my reservations about the movie's unintended subtext surrounding gender, I absolutely recommend this to anyone interested in historical drama.