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Small Things Like These is adapted from a quietly powerful Claire Keegan novel that tells the story of the evils of the Catholic Church in Ireland, and its unchecked power and influence that led to many people refusing to speak up against them. It’s aided by the quietly powerful acting of Cillian Murphy as its leading man, who says a lot without saying anything – bringing his ability to control a room in Peaky Blinders for a much more nuanced performance that’s arguably, better than anything in Christopher Nolan’s Oppenheimer that won him an Oscar. He plays family man Bill Furlong, who delivers coal to various houses and communities during winter. On Bill’s route is the local convent – where he sees something he’s not supposed to. This forces him to question everything, not just about their standing in the community but also his own past.
Navigating with flashbacks that give us Bill’s upbringing and the loss of his mother and his absent father, as well as traumatic experiences linked with Christmas time, he’s a man that wants little and doesn’t ask for much. Yet when he witnesses horrific treatment of a young girl he knows that he can’t ignore it, even if it’ll cost his standing and his own children’s future in the local community. We know right from the off that Bill is a kind, caring man – he gives some change to a boy who says he’s out looking for a lost dog and offers him a lift home out of charity. This paves way for something more nuanced, as he witnesses the mistreatment of a young girl at the convent. But it’s hard to do anything – the convent threaten to pull his orders at a moments notice, and the local pub landlady, Helen Behan, warns him against standing up to them. They have their fingers in every pie. We’re reminded again how good of a man Bill Furlough is by how well he treats his staff at Christmas – one of the good ones, and we know that he’s coming to a tipping point with the Convent before the end of the film. But what will be his breaking point?
It tells the abusive power of the catholic nuns and what happens when a society just stands by and accepts evil for what they are. The film about the Magdalene Laundries in Ireland, one of the most abusive industries in Western Europe. It doesn’t quite go all in on their horrors – researching after the film led me down a horrifying rabbit hole of a subject that’s little taught in England – and the novelistic approach guided by its subject material as an adaption really lends itself better placed to a character study, rich and well paced. There’s no need for a shock, fast start – we get to learn Bill’s routine, we see him on his runs, we see him on the day job – and we see his past. Then we get to see what happens when he deviates from it – and the world upends.
Tim Mielants’ flashback structure is formulaic, for example, we learn why Bill isn’t too looking forward to Christmas as Christmas approaches. When he goes to the barbers, we get a flashback to his past there. It’s a split narrative that unmasks his characters’ upbringing but detracts from the main narrative. His main opponent is the spidery, manipulative Mother Superior played by Emily Watson – instantly fearsome the way she gets under your skin. The terrifying portrayal of the Church is frightening from the moment Bill enters the Magdalene Laundries, the scene by the fire of Mother Superior Bill and Zara Devlin’s Sarah, a young woman – instantly find themselves depending on each other for survival, is harrowing.
For those who want an uplifting Christmas movie Small Things Like These is the opposite. Bill is almost defeated from the moment the film starts and barely grows as the film progresses – it’s about unpacking a past that hasn’t quite faded. He’s quiet, vulnerable. And that makes this film ten times more powerful because of it. I’ve lately discovered that the telltale sign of a good film is if it’s packed out with an audience that’s about fifty years older than you are; and this one was in spades. Having a glowing endorsement by the cinema usher doesn’t hurt either.
