Soft & Quiet — ordinary words, growing dread

Spoiler-free review.

Soft & Quiet is a hard film to sit through. What makes it disturbing is how ordinary the surroundings are. There is no reassuring distance between the horror and the sort of places people move through every day.

Beth de Araújo keeps the camera close and the action moving with the feeling of one continuous stretch of time. That approach gives the discomfort nowhere to settle. There is no convenient cut to another person’s day, and very little room to step back and collect yourself.

The dialogue is the part that gets under my skin. Grievances are offered casually, people encourage each other, and ugly beliefs find reassurance in the group. The performances make those exchanges feel socially familiar even when what is being said is repellent. Stefanie Estes is especially effective at the contrast between a composed manner and the hostility underneath it.

I appreciated how the direction makes you notice permission being given in small ways: a response, a laugh, a decision to go along. The film understands that a group can make people feel justified rather than responsible. It does not need a speech to make that frightening.

My reservation is how relentless it becomes. At times the escalation feels designed to leave you as distressed as possible, and I wanted a little more depth beyond that pressure. Still, the control of the performances and the camera makes the experience difficult to dismiss.

8/10. Disturbing, tightly directed, and very effective at finding horror in familiar behaviour. I would go in without reading the plot; the performances and the growing unease are enough to know about beforehand.

Written and directed by Beth de Araújo · 2022 · English. Film details · Poster source. Artwork © its respective rights holders.

— Desly