★★ In a religious community isolated from the world, a group of women wonder what to do: for years they have been drugged and raped and then blame the devil. So, tired, fed up, desperate, they debate what to do. In other words, the type of film that is born shielded from criticism because the subject is “important” and says “strong things”. The critic who says that it is bad, that it is boring, that it is a festival of overacting and that it lacks subtlety, could be branded as, well, the devil, who is there to blame him. But let’s risk it: yes, it’s pretty bad. They are actresses putting on a theatrical show that is sometimes too loud and whose suffering on the screen is of the same artificial nature as Spiderman’s web. With a difference: one believes Spiderman swinging between buildings. Here the enlightening-didactic project is so evident and in the foreground, that he engulfs his creatures. There is no world of its own: only a framework for discourse. To hell with her.
