Movie Review ~ Small Things Like These

In Ireland’s turbulent legacy on screen, filmmakers have often grappled with the nation’s darker histories, but few stories cut as close to the bone as Small Things Like These. Director Tim Mielants’ adaptation of Claire Keegan’s acclaimed 2021 novel revisits the haunting specter of the Magdalene laundries with a delicate touch that makes its impact all the more devastating.  Arriving in theaters on November 8, it’s bound to fly under your radar with so much content to consume, but make note of it for a future watch.

Set against the frost-bitten backdrop of 1985 New Ross, County Wexford, the film follows Bill Furlong (Cillian Murphy), a coal merchant whose ordinary life takes an extraordinary turn when a routine delivery to a local convent reveals disturbing evidence of these notorious institutions.  Fresh from his Oppenheimer triumph, Murphy brings his characteristic intensity to this quieter role, crafting a portrait of a man whose moral compass begins to spin when confronted with institutional cruelty hiding behind traditionally pious walls.

As it always has, the genius of Murphy’s performance lies in its restraint. Every gesture carries weight as Bill, a father of five with his own complicated origin story, wrestles with the implications of his discovery. Born to an unwed mother, Bill’s encounter with the convent’s dark secrets creates ripples that threaten to disturb his carefully constructed world and the surface calm of his entire community. Murphy transforms this internal struggle into something palpable—each hesitation and conflicted glance speaks volumes about the character’s growing moral disquiet.

The supporting cast proves equally captivating, particularly Emily Watson (The Theory of Everything) as the convent’s Mother Superior.  Despite limited screen time, Watson delivers a chilling performance that crackles with menace beneath a veneer of righteous sanctity.  One pivotal confrontation between Watson and Murphy leaves psychological bruises that linger long after she exits the scene.  Eileen Walsh (Wolf) brings a subtle strength to her role as Bill’s wife. However, one wishes the script had given her more room to explore their relationship’s complexities beyond being a sounding board that provides vital information when required and remains silent and supportive otherwise.  Young actress Zara Devlin, who plays a frightened girl Bill discovers while making a delivery at the convent, adds another layer of poignancy to the narrative, her few scenes carrying devastating emotional weight detailing the psychological strain put upon these young women by their families.

For a story of such moral urgency, Mielants opts for an unusual, almost hushed pacing that adds weight and occasionally removes that sharp immediacy Murphy balances so well. The director leans into a languid rhythm that effectively evokes the inertia of a small town entrenched in secrets (especially in a stinging cold). Yet, this deliberate tempo sometimes feels misjudged when considering the audience.  Scenes unfold slowly, almost like developing photographs—beautiful but testing the viewer’s engagement.  This is especially evident when the film seems to be nearing a revelatory moment only to step back, as if reluctant to push the pedal on suspense.

Cinematographer Frank van den Eeden (Holly) deserves special mention for his masterful capture of the Irish winter landscape. His camera work transforms the mid-80s mundane into the meaningful—coal yards become metaphoric spaces of moral darkness. At the same time, the convent’s austere architecture looms like a physical manifestation of institutional power. A muted color palette, dominated by grays and deep blues in everything from Alison McCosh’s (X-Men: Days of Future Past) costumes to Paki Smith’s (John Carter) production design, perfectly complements its themes of ethical ambiguity and a demonstrative decline of feeling.

While occasionally diluting the story’s impact, Small Things Like These’s atmospheric approach captures the glacial pace of small-town life and institutional change. Working from Enda Walsh’s thoughtful adaptation, Mielants crafts a reflection on courage under pressure that arrives quietly yet carries the weight of generations of institutional abuse.  Produced by Ben Affleck and Matt Damon’s Artists Equity, Small Things Like These joins a sobering collection of films addressing Ireland’s institutional secrets, from Peter Mullan’s The Magdalene Sisters to Stephen Frears’ Philomena. However, it treads more delicately than its predecessors.

Yet for viewers willing to lean into the film’s measured pace, Mielants rewards with moments of finely observed humanity. A particularly affecting montage shows Bill methodically delivering coal to his customers, each interaction revealing layers of community relationships and an unspoken understanding of the give and take within a hierarchical society. The film asks its audience to confront historical injustice and the ongoing cost of collective silence. Murphy’s character becomes a stand-in for all who choose between comfortable complicity and decisive action, his journey illuminating how small acts of courage can slice through even the darkest institutional veils.

Ultimately, Small Things Like These is a tough examination of conscience that demands patience but rewards close attention. As its title suggests, the film finds its power in subtle moments and careful observation, proving that sometimes the quietest voices carry the most urgent truths. As we put the season of booming blockbusters behind us, this film’s whispered revelations remind the viewer that bravery often manifests not in grand gestures but in modest acts of decency.