Screened as part of the 2022 SXSW Film Festival.
Hatred exposes the unfiltered evil that dwells inside anyone. The scariest thing about hate and the devastation it can bring is that it often hides in plain sight, manifesting unexpectedly and spiraling until there’s no turning back. Soft & Quiet, the debut feature from Beth de Araújo, aims to challenge audiences to stare into the deep dark soul of blind hatred to an excruciating degree…until you emerge on the other end drained of the idea that there is any hope left in the world we are currently living in.
Presented in real time stylized as a single continuous shot, Soft & Quiet picks up at the end of the school day and we meet Emily (Stefanie Estes) as she makes her way to a church gathering of like-minded women to discuss the “issues” they face for their beliefs. When they disperse with the invitation of wine at Emily’s home, they’re diverted en route when Emily is confronted by someone from her past which sets in motion a series of events that spiral viciously out of control.
There’s no real point in sugarcoating what’s at the heart of de Araújo’s blisteringly bold debut, Emily and her friends are white supremesists—gathering for an inaugural meeting of their Aryan sisterhood. This is a fact that’s made abundantly clear right at the 15-minute mark. From there, you’re planted firmly in your seat gawking dumbfoundedly at the most vile and ignorant people you will ever meet. Of course, this is an extreme portrayal of the abhorrent racism living in our population that’s hidden in the seemingly harmless individuals you might not expect. Emily is a school teacher, which underpins the horror at the heart of Soft & Quiet…these people undoubtedly exist, and they are teaching their hatred to our youth. Or it’s your seemingly friendly store clerk that smiles at your face and then regales her disdain for your race/religion over cherry pie with her like minded racist friends. They’re meeting to talk about how to spread their word, grow their ranks and are blinded by their prejudices.
The horrific racism on full display would be enough to make this content sizzle and bring the audiences blood to a boil, but it doesn’t stop at just a bunch of Karen’s meeting to discuss how a POC got a promotion over one of them and crying over their white privilege; no, it takes things a step further by showing us in all its ugliness just how dangerous this kind of thinking can be when unchecked and emboldened. The presentation certainly gives its more tense moments an even more immediate sense of urgency. Your typical film would have you worried about your main character's safety and if they will find a way out of their picks, while in Soft & Quiet our main characters are the antagonists and the film's final act will have many fuming in their seats ready to throw everything in arms’ reach at the screen and praying that karma comes to do it’s dirty work to these monsters.
Soft & Quiet though not explicitly horror could very well be one of the scariest movies you’ll see this year. All the credit in the world to de Araújo for putting this uncomfortable little gem out for the world to see. And credit to the actresses that bring her material to life—no matter how challenging the material is. It’s never pleasant to be forced to confront the unsavory and disgusting points of view of white characters rooted in real life hatred and force the audience to feel embarrassed and appalled by their shocking, selfish behavior. Once the embarrassment subsides, what’s left is anger and a fragment of hope that this movie sheds more light on an extremely dark reality and hopefully inspires more people to care about and look out for their fellow humans despite our differences.
Note: Soft & Quiet was acquired by Blumhouse prior to its festival premiere with no current release information at the time of this review.