Denounced vigorously by the Vatican as it was, you’d
expect Peter Mullan’s The Magdalene
Sisters to be a far more intelligently provocative and incendiary film than
it is. To condemn a movie on moral grounds suggests that the film in question
poses a real threat to the groupthink that powers your organization. I
couldn’t imagine the crass manipulations and gross exaggerations of Magdalene would make anyone rethink their stance on the church.
It’s not that the film doesn’t reveal wrongs. Certainly the horror story
that the film creates as it follows four girls as they’re placed in the
purgatory of a Catholic-run laundry is at times is self-evident. The true life
specifics behind the events must have undoubtedly been more harrowing than the
film suggest, however. The obvious plot arc which carries us from
institutionalization to hard-won freedom keeps us from ever truly fearing for
the characters. Since we’re so aware of the film’s genre (women-in-prison
flick), we’re aware of the conventions of the genre, so it’s tough to get
past the artifice that the film’s similarities to other prison flicks creates.
As a result, the reality of the situation feels far off. That the characters are
composite sketches based loosely on reality, and not patterned on actual people
only further reduces what little sense of credibility that the film had.
Mullan uses his directorial prowess to overplay his
attitudes toward the girls and the nuns that oppress them. It’s tough to take
the film seriously, when the first time we see the wicked Mother Superior,
she’s counting the piles of money made from the girls’ toil. Every nun in
the film, and every individual in a position of power is essentially presented
as evil, be they clergy, principal, or parent. The tortured girls are saints in
contrast. After botched escape attempts, the sisters shave their heads, making
them look like Dreyer’s Joan of Arc. While these choice are effective in
making sure we never doubt where Mullan’s polemical biases lie, such
simplifications rob the movie of much of its dramatic effect. Most of the movie
takes place directly from the point of view of the girls, but when he shows a
close-up of a small child in one scene instead of a long shot, we see that
he’s not at all above discarding his cinematic technique to try to wring out
more emotional effect. Such a shot makes no sense in the aesthetic scheme of the
film - since the girls never get to see the child up close we shouldn’t - but
the shrewd and somewhat shameless Mullan understands the power that a sad
kid’s face has on an audience. Such techniques essentially turn Magdalene
into a propaganda piece.
That’s not to say that Mullan has ineptly made his film.
Three opening sequences that play before the credits are a stirringly conceived
example of the power of visual storytelling. The director manages to compose his
shots so that the images pack a certain amount of blunt force, even when you
can’t accept the message they’re sending (The sun never shines in the
laundry, for example, while outside it beams brightly. Also, a series of
inscriptions proclaiming sentiments like "God Is Just" sit above the
girl's beds.). Mullan elicits solid
performances from his cast, with special note going to Nora-Jane Noone, who
plays Bernadette, a young virginal schoolgirl who’s imprisoned only because
she’s seen as a temptation to horny young boys. Her character arc is the most
vividly conceived of any in the film, and the way her initial defiance wears
down until she’s convinced of her guilt and judgmental toward others is the
one truly affecting thing in the picture. She keeps her yarn from becoming a
dirge, however, by infusing Bernadette with a blend of piercing intelligence and
sexual intensity that recalls Angelina Jolie’s best moments. Still, these are
small pleasures in a film that surrounds them with anguish. Instead of an
important exposure of the truth that the church hid that such a solemn approach
would suggest, though, The Magdalene
Sisters feels like another manipulation of the facts.