Published in 2018, Miriam Toews’ novel, Women Talking, was hailed as a Best Book of the Year by The New York Times Book Review. The film’s trajectory from the page to the screen began with Frances McDormand, who optioned the book and approached producer Dede Gardner of Plan B about making the film together. “I found it thought provoking in a completely surprising and nuanced way and believed it had value for the conversation I was having with my community,” said McDormand. “I was interested in it being a debate that had a sense of humor and hope and possibility for the future.”

McDormand took the book to Gardner at Plan B, a production company she greatly admired for their resume of films. “When I met with Dede, she was extraordinarily well-prepared, she had diagrams, she had broken down the novel in a way that made it seem possible to adapt to cinematic form. I was so excited that I was with someone who had a passion for developing it and also an extraordinary determination to get it made soon, with a female filmmaker. We both decided it had to be someone who both writes and directs, someone who could adapt it.”

Adds Gardner: “When Fran and I were first talking about who would direct, Sarah was at the very top of our list. I’ve wanted to work with her for a hundred years, but she’s super selective.”

Given that author Miriam Toews is from Toronto, as is Polley, there was a potent synergy in the adaptation. “There was a Canadian strain of DNA that felt proper,” Gardner said.

The marriage of the multi-faceted material with a multi-dimensional filmmaker like Polley seemed ideal to McDormand. “Sarah Polley, whose work can speak volumes on its own, is the perfect match as a writer/director for this material,” McDormand said. “She had read the book independently of our sending it to her and was already spinning with the possibilities of it being made into a film.”

For her part, Toews, who called the book “an act of female imagination,” says she was thrilled when she heard that Sarah was writing and directing. “I admire everything about her work, her experience, writing, directing, her feminism and activism,” said Toews. “It all comes into play.”

Polley leaped into action when she heard that McDormand and Gardner had optioned the book. “I immediately set out to find out if I could be a part of the project,” Polley said.

Judith Ivey, who plays Agata Friesen, one of the film’s matriarchs, loved the book and extolled Polley’s screenplay. “Sarah is a genius and adapted it so beautifully, with great regard for the book and respect for everybody involved,” Ivey said. “And she made it accessible too and built so much tension into it. She’s a consummate artist.”

The movie is a departure from the book in several ways, taking a contained story and making it much bigger and more suited to the big screen. And there’s a key change in the narrator. “The book is extraordinary and full of life and humor and wickedness and pithiness,” Gardner said. “Yet, two families of women in a hayloft making a decision for the duration is not an obvious idea for a film. At the same time, I could see its cinematic structure. The thing that the book and the movie really share is that despite all the things that they discuss there’s a real sense of movement and a victory at the end of it.”

McDormand agrees: “What surprised me was how epic Sarah saw the film. I think maybe I imagined it more intimate and perhaps more stylistically rustic, but she understood that to give it its due it had to have an epic grandeur to it.”

As is the case for so many projects lately, the Covid-19 pandemic interrupted the process.
“We literally thought we’re going to have a farm and everyone can bring their kids and we’ll all live in Airstreams and it will all be shot in a real barn,” said McDormand. “Even without Covid, it became quickly clear that we weren’t going to have that utopian world.”

Yet the project ultimately profited from the pandemic-related postponement. “It had a gestation,” said McDormand. “It went through a process that it would not have gone through before…By the time the whole company got together physically, the exhilaration of being in a congress of people fed everyone. That made for a bond as a total company.”

Gardner agreed, adding: “This was a different kind of prep. Like think tank prep. Because of the year-long delay it gave us so much more time to think about who should be in it, and it felt very luxurious, because you never get that on a movie. It felt very sacred, it was just us with a bit of an unknown on the other end. It meant that the movie got to incubate. I believe that incubation is felt.”

It definitely was felt by the actors involved. “Sarah had such a clear vision of the film that she wanted to make before any of us came in, which is really why we have the film we have— because of the woman she is,” says Jessie Buckley. “She had such foresight and belief and perspective on this film. She brings all her humanity to it and all her political heart. We had a week of rehearsal, but it was during Covid so it was kind of intense, our faces covered with masks. We didn’t see each other’s faces until action was called.”

Polley had met with all the key actors virtually well before rehearsal. “She met most people online first, and she was able to develop a rapport with them,” said McDormand. “We had a read-through of the script before we gathered in person.”

The trio of actors who came from Great Britain–Claire Foy, Jesse Buckley, and Ben Whishaw– initially isolated and quarantined together, establishing a particularly close connection.

“The actors had to rehearse fully-masked and they were masked until they shot,” said McDormand. “That was really challenging, and the fact that this company of actors made it as much of an ensemble piece of work as it is is to their credit, and to Sarah’s. Sarah is a leader who’s a very articulate and erudite speaker and she’d given this a lot of thought. So they all trusted each other– even though they could only see half of their faces.”

Adds Ivey: “We were all, in ways, archetypes. Everyone worked beautifully that way. If there was any tension, it was never brought to the set.” McDormand agreed, referring to the cast and crew as a “matriarchal production team. It’s about the collective. No one started beating their chest too hard. By the time we came together as an ensemble, it was like we’d gone through a kind of boot camp.”

The gathering of the women at the heart of the story is predicated on disturbing and terrifying actions within the strict confines of an isolated religious colony. The women’s stories about feeling drugged and waking up bruised and sometimes bleeding were dismissed by the community’s men as fabrications of female imagination or evidence of sinful behavior by the women themselves. But when crimes were revealed, the police were called and arrests made. Under the ticking clock of the men’s return from the city in 24 hours, the women consider and debate a potentially life-changing decision that forces each to reconcile self-determination with faith — Do they stay and forgive the men? Do they stay and fight for change? Or do they leave and start a new life?

Polley’s script starts after the community’s men have gone to town to post bail for the accused. While the men are away, over one hundred of the colony’s women have voted on what to do. A tie has resulted between two options: stay and fight, or leave the colony. A small group of women has taken on the time-sensitive task of discussing these positions and debating these choices before the men return. They come from two families and are comprised of:

Agata, the eldest (Judith Ivey)
Ona, the eldest daughter of Agata (Rooney Mara) Salome, a younger daughter of Agata (Claire Foy) Neitje, a niece of Salome (Liv McNeil)

and

Greta, the eldest (Sheila McCarthy)
Mariche, the eldest daughter of Greta (Jessie Buckley) Mejal, a younger daughter of Greta (Michelle McLeod) Autje, a daughter of Mariche (Kate Hallett)

7

A third family headed by Scarface Janz (Frances McDormand) has been invited to the early part of the discussion and is joined by her daughter Anna (Kira Guloien) and granddaughter Helena (Shayla Brown). Scarface represents the minority position of staying and doing nothing. For her, survival outside the colony is unlikely, and her religious obedience means there is nothing to debate. The risk of ex-communication and banishment is too great for Scarface. The men must be forgiven and the status quo maintained.

McDormand was drawn to this taciturn character, who represents the position of the women in the community who did not want to leave, invested as she is in the status quo.

“I did not option the book with the idea of acting in the film, I optioned it because I wanted to produce a film based on the book, with Dede and Sarah,” McDormand said. “But I love Scarface dramaturgically…Sarah uses Scarface and the Janz family to remind the audience that there are other women outside the hayloft debate that don’t want or are afraid to leave.”

Salome’s (Foy) position is at the other extreme. For her, the stay-and-fight position is literal: she argues for revenge and doesn’t fear divine wrath. Mejal (McLeod) is less aggressive but shares Salome’s desire to take a stand. But Mejal’s sister Mariche (Buckley) thinks that they could lose their fight and be forced to forgive. Tensions mount among the women as the security of their futures and their relationships with their faith, and their male family members come into question. Should their priority be protecting their children or obedience to the male authority figures of their faith?

Assisting the women is August Epp (Ben Whishaw), a gentle soul who is considered unmanly by other men in the colony and teaches at the school, which is only for boys and young men; girls remain uneducated. August is in love with Ona (Mara), who asks him to take the minutes of their meeting since the women are illiterate yet want a record of their discussions.

A lengthy, passionate discussion of the women’s options ensues. There are fights and insults, consolation and understanding, tears and laughter. All are resolved that they must do something; the violence must stop. Arguments are made for and against staying and going. Tensions mount among the women as the security of their futures, their relationships with their faith, and their male family member come into question. Questions are raised about leaving. Where will they go, and how will they find their way? They have never lived anywhere else. Should they be more concerned about survival, or will the men be the ones at a loss since the women do so much of the work? If men are not welcome to join them, then what about boys? What age is a boy a man? The complexities and repercussions of the choices they might make are daunting and monumental. The men will return in twenty-four hours, so urgency pervades the meeting. “Structurally this also works as a clock,” Gardner said. “The women have this limited period of time to have this conversation and make a decision about what they’re going to do and they need to do so before the men return. It’s a brilliant clock. They’ve got to hurry.”