Pieces of a woman is a haunting film about… regular life. The silence across the film deserves a best supporting actress nod — it is powerful and uncomfortable. From the beginning of the trauma through to the end of the film, the lack of interest, much less actual explanation, in explaining all that happens makes breathing laborious.
All that is good and could be good, that which looms so bright in the first scenes disappears in the second. Grief and pain and the hurt of words and the hurt of hands and the hurt of money-abused-through power, and relationships abused through all of the above.
Spoiler Alert: do not keep reading if you have not seen the movie and plan to see it.
The judge allows her to speak, ruining her own case but fighting for humanity of all nearby. Her attorney, whose loneliness looms violent and powerful. Herself who becomes. Her mother who will finally hear her, if only to avoid contempt. None for Shia who cannot be in the world as strongly as he is. Pieces of a woman gave me vertigo, in a haunting and beautiful way, but vertigo nonetheless.
Jotter in Film 