Tu ne mentiras point

'Small Things Like These (2024)' is a quiet character study about a working-class man who learns of a long-ignored abusive situation and grapples with his conscience - as well as those around him - as to whether he should, or even could, do anything to prevent it. It feels incredibly relevant in today's society, essentially making the case that we shouldn't turn a blind eye to suffering just because it's easier - and expected - to do so. It posits that you should help in whatever small way you can, that kindness is courage and that going against the grain to do what's right is paramount even when the weight of the world's injustices feel so overwhelming that to ignore them seems like the only option. At the centre of the picture is Cillian Murphy's low-key, almost entirely insular performance. He puts in some phenomenal work and is able to convey a complete character arc with very little dialogue and even less on-the-nose exposition. The screenplay mostly implies rather than states, forcing the audience to interpret its events in order to fully understand the narrative (which isn't so much ambiguous as it is not spoon-fed). This makes for a deceptively quiet and mundane experience that feels really realistic. It's not the most entertaining movie in the world, but it isn't supposed to be and its creeping power can't quite be denied. Although I wish it did expand its ending somewhat to deliver at little more denouement, the final frames make it clear that the film has been about a choice rather than its aftermath. The climax cements the film as a character study, reinforcing the fact that each and every moment has been building up to the decision the lead makes in the last act. While the affair is generally rather slow and its pacing initially feels somewhat skewed, it's ultimately a rewarding and distinct effort that doesn't need to shout in order to be heard. It's pretty strong stuff.

It's unbelievable to know that this story takes place in 1985 and went on until 1997. Cillian Murphy's breathtaking performance takes you through the struggles from his past and the struggles in his present until the character of Bill Furlong can't take it any more. Filmed up close and very personal. You can hear every breath and feel his pain. Beautifully portrait by Tim Mielants. He is so close to all the characters, you can almost feel their hearts beat.

The story is one of the many sad examples of the influence of the churches in Europe until recently. Seeing this film at the Film Fest Gent gave it an extra dimension with Cillian Murphy introducing the film and wishing everyone a pleasant screening in Dutch. From the screen, due to his work on PB7 as we speak.

Cillian Murphy is always a celebration for the large and small screen. This time he travels several decades back, to the eighties in Dublin. He is a coal seller, that keeps his house warm and sells coal for other houses and places to keep them warm in Ireland's cold winter. His five daughters and wife are the apple of his eyes and he would do anything for them.

Until...one day he stumbles into a situation in a monastery, which hosts young catholic girls, sometime against their will, that keeps his confused and torn between his will of normality and his conscience. The catholic church is being criticized here in a way that one can easily be reminded with the classis "The Magdalene Sisters".

During several segments of the movie the past keeps reminding Bill with his childhood traumas. He is described as a generous and simple guy, that wants only to earn money to keep his family on track with food in their bellies, fire in the fireplace and off course proper education, but he still has great virtues and gentle heart, as far as it goes to other people, that their daily suffering doesn't go unnoticed.

It's a slow burner, that is directed with a fine and gentle hand and mindset. It has a lot of criticism, as mentioned, of the church and cynical use of religion to oppress the common folks. On the other side it has a lot of humanity, love and care in it. It feels long, but it is a straight forward film, that catches the essence of the era and state of mind of these days.

I haven't felt always the strong connection between the flashbacks to current plot developments, but all helped to better build the protagonist character and to better understands him and his motivation. Murphy's character has been built well, from a script perspective and also thanks to an enormous performance from Murphy himself.

I could watch Murphy stare at a wall watching paint dry for 2 hours and I'd still buy a ticket.

Here, as Bill Furlong, he conveys a sadness that is rarely seen or understood by the people close to him. But we (the audience) can see it's there.

I won't go into the story that much. Honestly, there's not much there. But that doesn't mean it's a bad movie. It just means that it's a simple story. But one that is very well written, beautifully shot (The whole time, I believed I was in Ireland during the eighties) and incredibly well acted.

The Magdelene laundries were a real thing up until 1996, when the last one closed. Unmarried, pregnant teens were sent to monasteries to give birth and lose their child to forced adoption. All the while, they were abused as cheap labor by the nuns who were running the laundries. Sometimes, they were also physically abused and mistreated. It has left a mark on the soul of the country.

Eileen Walsh, who plays Ms. Furlong, also starred in the Magdalene sister, a movie from 2003. Coincidence or not: I suggest that you check it out because it's a perfect bookend to this gem of a movie.

A friend of mine used to own a big gay bar in Dublin, and I recall being in it the day that marriage was legalised in Eire. One of the women celebrating was telling us of her childhood at the hands of the nuns in the 1970s. It was a ghastly story of women who hadn't an ounce of compassion between them all, and this film picks up that cudgel and swings it squarely at what it is little better than a religious equivalent of a Dickensian workhouse. The story is told from the perspective of local coal merchant "Bill" (Cillian Murphy) who lives with his wife and five daughters in a small town in Co. Wexford. Nobody has much money and some are reduced to gathering wood from the forest floor to heat their homes. By comparison, his family are quite well off and with Christmas looming all are anticipating a good family time. He supplies the local convent-cum-orphanage where the unwed girls of the community are deposited when they get in the family way, and it's here that he encounters a young lass locked in the coal shed. Freezing and terrified, he wonders how she got herself trapped in there - and that's where the story starts to focus on not just the inhumanity that prevailed, but on the internecine, web-like, tendrils of a church that brooked no resistance or interference. If you want a "peaceable life" then you'd best leave well alone. Can he, though? He is frequently reminded of his own childhood. One of tragedy, kindness, an hot water bottle and a jigsaw puzzle. "Bill" is a troubled man who has much to mull over as his conscience refuses to accept the societal compromises even his wife (Eileen Walsh) might prefer he adopt in the face of what he has now witnessed. This is definitely a less-is-more film, with an effective paucity of dialogue and a sense of oppressiveness that frequently overwhelms with it's simplicity. The setting demonstrates a degree of menace way more poignantly than any horror film, but horror this is - and an illustration of cruelty in it's most devastatingly subtle form. Murphy shines here, his performance allows his character to take us with him as we all observe a scenario unfold that might not have been out of place in 1885 - but in 1985? Not an easy watch, but well worth ninety minutes of your time.