The first film from Big Things Films, Cillian Murphy’s production company, Small Things Like These is a beautiful adaptation of the 2021 Claire Keegan novel of the same name. Murphy’s performance brings a grounded, hopeful note to this melancholic exploration of Ireland’s Magdalene laundries.
Small Things Like These follows Bill Furlong (Cillian Murphy), a coal merchant and father to five daughters. As Bill begins to uncover the sinister inner workings of the town’s convent, he struggles to grapple with his own past as the son of a young mother who very well could have ended up in a Magdalene asylum like it if not for the kindness of Mrs. Wilson (Michelle Fairley), who took them in.
For American audiences, this film may very well be their first introduction to Magdalene laundries. These institutions housed “fallen women,” like Bill’s unwed mother and the young girls he later discovers inside the convent, and sentenced them to long periods of intense labor under the strict supervision of nuns. Small Things Like These is an important reminder of Ireland’s not-too-distant past — the last Magdalene laundry wasn’t shut down until 1996. I was incredibly moved by the film’s depiction of these institutions and found it to be a successful memorial to the thousands of women and girls who were forced to work in these asylums.
Throughout the film, Bill grapples with whether to help the girls he meets. His wife, Eileen, encourages him to stay silent, believing that the women trapped there are lucky to have shelter and food, and that it is sometimes necessary to remain passive in order to survive. Meanwhile, Bill is constantly reminded of what is at stake if he does speak up — the convent is connected to the local religious school, where his daughters attend. The Mother Superior Sister Mary (Emily Watson) hints that stepping out of line would prevent his younger daughters from being admitted.
But Bill is not only reminded of his mother when he sees the young girls of the laundry, but of his five daughters. Murphy’s performance as a loving father, who is offended when others imply he might have rather had a son, allows the audience to understand why Bill feels such a strong need to help — especially when he meets Sarah, a young girl who could easily be one of his daughters. I was fascinated by the film’s exploration of morality and corruption.
Small Things Like These relies on Cillian Murphy’s performance, and, expectedly, he delivers. In his first role since his Oscar win for Oppenheimer, Murphy brings a quiet pain to the role that bridges the gap between Bill’s current struggle with his childhood trauma. While the film shows that the pain of his difficult childhood still lingers, small moments also highlight Bill’s determination to end the cycle. I was touched by a moment where, after a flashback to a childhood Christmas where a young Bill doesn’t receive the jigsaw puzzle he asked for, an adult Bill takes the time to purchase exactly what his wife asked for, despite the pain he’s in. At no point does Bill fail to provide for and care for his wife and daughters. I appreciated the character of Bill, and especially Murphy’s performance, for providing a moral compass for the audience. Just as Bill serves as a reliable rock for his family and friends, he provides a much-needed depiction of goodness and morality amongst the corruption of the world he inhabits.
Technically, I thought Small Things Like These was incredibly well made. Most notably, I thought the cinematography by Frank van den Eeden beautifully framed the small town of New Ross, Ireland, and the score by Senjan Jansen brought a perfect sadness to the film. Each element of the film worked together to create a strong feeling of melancholy that has stuck with me after watching.
Particularly timely is its depiction of misogyny that is pervasive not just within the convent, but throughout the entire community. Despite focusing on an event from Irish history, Small Things Like These is about so much more than just one isolated incident — it’s about the culture of misogyny that allows institutions like the Magdalene laundries to run unquestioned for decades, and about the bystander culture that allows so many to stay silent and avert their eyes. Small Things Like These is incredibly sad, but its message of tentative hope is one that I believe American audiences will resonate with. Small Things Like These hasn’t gotten much attention in the U.S., despite opening this year’s Berlin Film Festival, but I highly recommend giving it a watch.
Nicholas York is a sophomore in the School of Industrial and Labor Relations. He can be reached at [email protected].