The Quiet Girl

Cáit (Catherine Clinch) is a shy and reserved young girl, sent one summer by her mother (Kate Nic Chonaonaigh) to live with her Aunt Eibhlín (Carrie Crowley) on a dairy farm, as she has become too much of a hassle to have at home while they prepare for a new baby to be born.  Receiving love and compassion, the likes of which she never had at home, slowly, Cáit begins to open up and forms a strong bond with Eibhlín and her husband, Seán (Andrew Bennett).  With the summer coming to a close, Cáit does what she can to stay with Eibhlín and Seán, but ultimately, she must return to live with her domineering parents and cruel sisters. 

Colm Bairéad directs The Quiet Girl from a script he co-wrote with Claire Keegan.  Premiering at the Berlin International Film Festival where it won the Grand Prix from the International Jury, the film was released stateside by Super.  The effort is a historic film for Ireland, making the ballot for the Academy Award for Best International Film for the first time for the country, but even without all of the accolades, Bairéad delivers a touching drama with affecting performances. It is not based on any certain person or story, but it is a film that feels all too informed about a systemic problem around child neglect. 

In the title role, Clinch displays incredible nuance and grace in front of the camera, notable not only for her young age, but also that this is her debut role.  The script asks a lot of the young girl who is in almost every scene, but what is most incredible is how much is left unsaid in the script meaning that Bairéad and Clinch had to have a very close working relationship to achieve the emotional weight required from by the script.  There is an entire painful history we learn as the audience through conversations that pique the interest but do not overindulge with melodramatic pining about the past.  Where Clinch fits in, then, is a bridge that helps her new guardians heal, but they are also instrumental in allowing for Cáit to heal, as well.  We slowly begin to learn of a harrowing history of abuse and neglect that Cáit has suffered from, but Bairéad and Keegan are careful not to subject Clinch as an actress to too much so that while this abuse greatly informs the story and her character, it is not terribly graphic or upsetting. 

The other major player, at least in the first half of the film, is Crowley as Eibhlín.  She works with grace and brings a warmth and tenderness we know has been absent from Cáit’s life and helps to open us up to the arc of the film, setting into motion this story about finding understanding with one another.  While the film revolves around Cáit, her reserved nature makes her a very passive character in the first half of the film, so it falls to Eibhlín to drive the narrative forward.  Crowley brings a sense of wisdom and love to the film and watching the chemistry between her and Clinch is great.  Bairéad employs some parallels between the two home lives so that there is no need to burden the actors with unnecessary dialogue and instead allows them to grow closer through their actions. 

In the second half of the film, after a wake, Seán begins to take a more prominent role in Cáit’s life as he times her sprints to the mailbox and back or begins to show her more of the chores around the farm.  It is not until this second half that we begin to realize what The Quiet Girl is truly about; it is not just Cáit’s story, but the entire family’s.  As with Eibhlín, the contrast between his character and Cáit’s father could not be more apparent, but he also has his own distinct arc to complete.  With the revelation that he and Eibhlín had lost a young son some years prior, it provides a poignant informing of many of the simpler elements of the first half.  Seán expressed concern when Cáit ran off at the farm, and he grew agitated when Eibhlín was still dressing her in the older clothes which they had in their closet which we now know belonged to their son.  By themselves, these are all valid concerns but with greater knowledge, it all takes on a deeper meaning and Bennett shades his performance perfectly so that it evolves over time with the narrative. 

As with the performances, Stephen Rennicks’ score also evolves and reveals its themes slowly over time, forming together as the details of the past begin to film in our understanding of the story and the history of these characters.  It creates an alluring atmosphere that fits well with Kate McCullough’s dream-like cinematography which employs pools of light through the trees in a more meditative way than is typically seen.  The crafts are all pointing towards a similar feeling of thought that helps to elevate this otherwise understated film into something that perfectly accents the evocative performances from the core cast. 

The Quiet Girl is a full story that speaks the most when it is silent, capitalizing on the name of the film in how it delivers its story.  Cáit speaks few words safe for a few select scenes, and when she does, Clinch has incredible control over her emotions, but the script reflects this same pattern of delivery.  The film, therefore, requires a careful and attentive audience to fully appreciate the nuance of the story.  It is a carefully crafted script that delivers a painful story, one of longing, and with strong performances and undeniable chemistry that is a treat to watch it evolve and change over the months this new family finds themselves together. Shaking the temptation to be a fairy tale, the concept itself lending to an all-too-easy inversion of a young girl sent away from her cruel parents to live with the kinder extended family, the arc is sweet but not sickeningly so, and it remains grounded throughout – almost to a fault – as it leaves us wanting a brighter outlook for poor Cáit, but ultimately, Bairéad and Keegan set out to and successfully tell a thoughtful story about the long shadow which abuse and neglect can cast over childhood.