What is this movie about?
The setting feels timeless even though a modern SUV looks back at the audience from the opening frame. The real world shown in the film is older than any particular year or place, a place where the stories of centuries loom behind everyday life. The core focus follows a small group of women living in a Mennonite community. Across the broader society, many women endure a brutal pattern where husbands, brothers, and neighbors drug them at night and assault them. The trauma is not a product of a single moment but a long, collective memory carried by generations.
Initial clues about the true culprits are hard to pin down. The men sometimes blame the victims, suggesting the wounds come from the devil’s schemes. Then one day, truth surfaces. Law enforcement intervenes, and others rally to release the accused. The women are left with a stark choice—keep fighting within the community or step away to protect themselves and those they love.
From the cast that includes celebrated performers, the film draws lines to well-known works like those featuring Rooney Mara and Claire Foy, and moves into a spectrum that recalls the weight and restraint found in classic cinema. The project sits within a broader tradition of intimate, character-driven storytelling that treats difficult social issues with gravity rather than spectacle.
Why is this film meaningful to watch?
The story, drawn from the novel of the same name by Miriam Tows, mirrors a real episode of violence in Bolivia. In the mid-2000s, a troubling pattern emerged where many women, ages three to sixty-five, faced systematic sexual violence in their communities. The film’s title, which suggests that much of what the women endure may be dismissed as imagination, nods to the harsh reality behind the facts. This is not a fantasy or a fever dream; it is presented as a real case that led to a high-profile investigation, including a conviction against a person who supplied tranquilizers for assaults. The emphasis is on documenting truth rather than sensationalizing it.
The narrative carries a sense of timeless universality by showing how trauma evolves across generations. The first half hour unfolds in a barn, with the claustrophobic feel of a courtroom drama as a dozen women piece together a legal argument in a tight window of time. This approach places the audience in a position of listening closely to testimonies and searching for a path to justice. The film sits alongside other powerful drama that centers on collective memory and healing, such as notable works from festival culture that have tackled similar wounds and the long roads to recovery.
In parallel films, the weight of mass violence is explored through both communal response and personal memory. A parallel thread follows a different national context where violence during conflict shapes a daughter’s life long after the battles end. The director’s choice is not only to depict the immediate harm but to observe how fear and pain are transmitted, sometimes quietly, through family lines and childhood experiences. The result is a portrait of how communities confront the consequences of violence and the complexities of forgiveness, reconciliation, and accountability.
The characters in this film also wrestle with questions about staying or leaving. They discuss whether staying could offer a chance to rebuild safety and norms, or if departure is necessary to protect themselves and their children. One moment features a character who voices a direct, blunt inquiry about love and violence, underscoring the emotional tension that threads through every decision. The story moves between spiritual references and practical considerations, reminding viewers that every dawn can bring new bruises and the soil of the soul can turn dry with fear.
Why can the film be hard to watch?
The movie is unapologetically serious and unflinching. Its visual palette leans toward muted tones that reflect the seriousness of the subject matter, and its lighting favors a somber mood rather than bright relief. The dialogue and pace sometimes linger, mirroring the slow, painful work of processing trauma. The result is a film that demands attention and endurance, rather than easy emotional concessions. Those seeking light entertainment should be warned that this is not that kind of film.
Like other intense dramas, the story follows women who make painful choices about whether to stay, fight, or leave. In a particular sequence, the lead figures consider the personal cost of their decisions, and the audience bears witness to the long, often exhausting path toward resolution. The film acknowledges that seeking healing can be a strenuous, uneven process that does not quickly offer all the answers. Yet it remains committed to giving voice to the experiences of women who carry weighty histories and who strive to protect the next generation from harm.
The film received notable recognition through major award conversations, highlighting its ambition and the critical conversation it inspires. While awards are not the only measure of value, the discussion around its nomination reflects a broader interest in stories that reframe difficult histories through the lens of resilience and witness. The work is not just about tragedy; it is about courage, memory, and the choices that shape community futures.
Ultimately, watching this film invites an encounter with real-world histories and the people who lived them. It invites viewers to listen deeply, to witness the aftermath of violence, and to reflect on what can be done to support those who carry the burden of unspoken pain. It is a record of endurance, a call to empathy, and a reminder that truth can stand even when the world would rather look away.