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The Magdalene Sisters
Miramax, R
The Magdalene Sisters is a powerful unearthing of cinema. That being
said, it’s also a bone-chilling movie to experience –simply because it’s
raw and it’s real and it’s riveting. At its core, the film is essentially a story
about honesty; more specifically, the true barbaric stories hidden within
the walls of the Catholic-run institutions of Ireland collectively known as
The Magdalene Laundries. Viciously named for Mary Magdalene (the worst
kind of sinner), these asylums existed from the 1800s until as recent as
1996. Under the guise of repentance, prayer, and cleansing souls, the
Catholic Church rabidly took in children that had been shamed and abandoned
by their families after having “thought about” or “been privy” to moral
crimes; regardless if the supposed behavior was no fault of their own or
never actually occurred. It was within these merciless institutions of religious
rhetoric and greed that profit-generating sweatshops requiring intensive
labor without pay had been created. Born within the sanctity of a
church that was devoid of any humanity or spirituality, these asylums physically
and emotional stripped the legions of women of their hearts and
souls, with many eventually succumbing to their sad, lonely deaths.
After digesting a litany of documented research, Director Peter Mullan
assembled an authentic screenplay (based on actual testimony), and the
end result artfully exposes the Catholic Church with harrowing accounts of
the sadistic brutality subjected upon women -of all ages- in the name of
religion. The shocking truths unfold in 1964, through the eyes of four, once
unrelated girls, who along with an estimated 30,000 women, find themselves
imprisoned within the façade of faith. Mullan’s visions are crisp,
clear and to the point. Once he unmasks a truth, he moves on to free the next. He utilizes subtle, evocative nuances that jolt your
senses: from the effective grainy footage that is reminiscent of 1964, to the traditional Irish folk music that magically becomes
audible just as the dialogue fades away and we must absorb every ounce of pain through the victims’ eyes.
The film’s revelations are unyielding and skillfully demonstrate the scarring psychological effects that the women endured day after
day. And by preserving this behavior within
a documentary-like atmosphere, Mullan
merely proves to be doing his humanitarian
duty of exposing the ominous system
as it truly occurred -by providing an insight
into these women’s incomprehensible
journeys into hell. There are a number
of stand-out performances—including
first time (and first rate) actresses
Noone and Duffy, and a haunting Eileen
Walsh. But nothing prepares you for the
wicked viciousness callously delivered by
Geraldine McEwan as head tyrant Sister
Bridget. McEwan’s caustic performance
is so terrifying that her face will haunt you
for days.
After experiencing this tour-de-force of
film, DVD extras will be the least of your
concerns (which is a good thing because
there aren’t any.) However, there is one
glorious featurette: a fifty-minute documentary
entitled “Sex in a Cold Climate.”
Filmed in 1998, its crux exposes the sinister realities of the Magdalene Laundries through chilling interviews with the once
prisoners/victims now real-life survivors of these inhumane institutions that cowardly hid behind the facade of religion. Based on
the sadistic subject matter, I’d recommend watching the documentary a few days removed from the film itself. In fact, the documentary
is so evocative, director Mullan reveals that it inspired him to expose these unspeakable evils to the uninformed public; hence:
The Magdalene Sisters. This is a multifaceted film that deserves, and demands, your undivided attention.
RAG MAGAZINE • APRIL 2004 • 47