From its independence in 1922 up until the late 20th century, the lay government of the Republic of Ireland was closely intertwined with the Roman Catholic Church, and the consequences of this lack of separation of church and state are only beginning to bubble to the surface. The Church did things its own way within its broad domain, and meddled in legislation – for instance, it was only in 1985, coincidentally the year the film is set, when it became possible to buy contraception without a prescription.
The Church’s solution to the resulting high rates of teenage pregnancy, as well as that of prostitution motivated by poverty, came in the form of the Magdalene Laundry, institutions that vulnerable women could voluntarily check into and in which they would be housed, fed and paid for gainful employment – in theory.
In practice, it was widely thought that the system was corrupt, with most laundries managed as for-profit businesses with little regard given to the welfare of their imprisoned workers, or their illegitimate children who were put up for adoption for sizable fees. It was also a racket, with the nuns in charge “relieving” the Irish state of the duty of caring for certain female orphans who stepped only slightly out of line, or in some cases, faced ridiculous charges of hypothetical, future promiscuity.
This history lesson is necessary because “Small Things Like These,” a film dealing with the Magdalene Laundries, is not a documentary, docudrama or hero-driven David and Goliath story. It is, quite intentionally, a highly introspective and detail-light film focusing closely on the day-to-day life and internal struggles of protagonist Bill Furlong, played skillfully by Cillian Murphy. It is also, if what other critics say is to be believed, a highly faithful adaptation of the 2021 novella by Claire Keegan, so any shortcomings in plot are not the fault of the director.
The film opens to show Bill going about his daily routine as a coal and charcoal merchant in the Irish town of New Ross. The camera rarely strays far from his face, and the undramatized cinematography creates a dreary atmosphere, something that will mostly persist throughout the film.
The Good Shepherd Convent, the local Magdalene Laundry, which in real life closed its doors in 1967, is one stop on his delivery route. As he arrives, he witnesses a teenage girl being dragged kicking and screaming into the Laundry by her parents, and not long after, the source of his consternation is revealed. A flashback to Bill’s youth, delivered in such an unceremonious manner that I wasn’t the only reviewer to initially think two new characters were being introduced in the present day, establishes that Bill himself is the son of a teenage mother, spared from the Laundries because her employer, the wealthy farmer Mrs. Wilson was nice enough to keep her on the payroll as a live-in maid despite her illegitimate pregnancy. The older farmhand, named Ned, is friendly to young Bill for a very good reason – it is later revealed that he is his father.
Motivated by his upbringing, scenes of domestic abuse and poverty he witnesses in the present day and flashbacks to the discrimination he faced for being a “bastard child” and Ned’s abusive relationship with his mother, Bill decides that the current system cannot stand. In practice, the film trudges along through the dreary Irish winter, making it clear that Bill is just a cog in a machine without much power to effect change.
The highlight of “Small Things Like These” has to be a subsequent coal delivery to the Laundry, during which Bill finds a girl named Sarah locked in the coal bunker. Taking her to the door, he is greeted by Sister Mary, played by Emily Watson, who brings the two upstairs into a luxurious office far removed from the penitential trappings expected in a cloister.
Sitting down for a “friendly cup of tea,” Watson’s character delivers a masterful dialogue that would see Father Jack Hackett – another famous fictional Irish cleric who loves liquor and hates nuns in equal measure – perform without hesitation his usual escape act of crashing through a closed window and frantically leaping to the ground, if said window were on the top floor of the Empire State Building and holding back a floor-to-ceiling inundation of cask-strength Jameson’s. The steely tone of her speech, in which she acts cordially to Bill whilst dropping hints of what may be to come should he continue to cause trouble for the Church, and chides Sarah for “putting herself in that predicament,” is intimately familiar to anybody who has seen a film with scenes set in a Nazi war room, or one where a gangster double-crosses another.
The idea that the girl got trapped in the coal bunker by accident instead of locked in as a punishment is utter balderdash, as Sarah knows it, Bill knows it and Mary knows it. Thanks to Watson’s skillful use of non-verbal undertones in her character’s doublespeak, even the biggest philistine in the audience will likewise know that this was no result of a game of hide and seek.
The movie then cuts to a church sermon presided over by the same Sister Mary, who sanctimoniously preaches the importance of true Christian values in her piercing tone, all while scenes of suffering and abuse flash on screen. At this point, Bill’s discontent bubbles over and he returns to the Laundry in the middle of the night to collect Sarah –once again in the coal bunker– and brings her home.
I wasn’t sure what to make of “Small Things Like These”, although it did grow on me a bit after leaving the theater. My first impression was that it felt like a one-hour-and-37-minute-long opening sequence to a film that never got off the ground. The main character’s dreary, complacent personality retroactively becomes forced and incongruent right at the end, when it is established that he is, in fact, willing to make waves and oppose the Church’s power. The film’s main strength is its ability to flesh out a more complete story from a script with very few lines using motifs, non-verbal subtext in dialogue and skillful cinematography. On the flip side, its main weakness is the paucity of material to work with that made this necessary in the first place.
In conclusion, “Small Things Like These” is sure to be a polarizing film that won’t wow everybody. If you are fond of introspective movies like it, the cinematography and acting are certainly up to scratch. Still, if you are looking for a story of a man willing to take on injustice head-on or an opportunity to actually learn about the Magdalene Laundry scandal, you should look elsewhere.
