The Woman in the Wall

It turned out to be one of the best dramas I have seen this year. Easily. It was standout from the first scene.

If in its back end the series devolves into a more formulaic whodunit and tale of Catholic Church coverups, the fine cast keeps you emotionally engaged and the filmmaking is fairly lush, with Harry Wootliff and Rachna Suri alternating directing duties on the six-episode season.

It’s this overplaying of the narrative hand, not to mention the risibly trowelled-on gothic melodrama (at one point, Lorna scurries around with an axe), that should be the undoing of The Woman in the Wall. It’s saved by explosive arthouse brio and that atomising central performance. Wilson is just so good in this: you could watch her unravel for ever.

The Woman In The Wall succeeds because of the lead performance by Ruth Wilson as well as the grey areas that the tragedy of the Magdalene Laundries caused.

Murtaugh, greatly abetted by Wilson, balances the heaviness of his material with a humor and a lightness of spirit that make “The Woman in the Wall” a brisk, engaging production. .... Wilson’s Irish accent sounds like a work in progress. Her performance is crackerjack straight through, though.

It’s clear Lorna is on the precipice of sanity, and a little of that kind of where-are-we unreality goes a long way. Still, I liked everything that wasn’t presented in a haze, and, overall, I was riveted to the miniseries. The uncompromising approach to the horrors committed by people of God, and the women who were victimized by them, is something to see, and something to remember.

The whole cast is solid—Frances Tomelty is particularly fearsome as the dreaded Sister Eileen—and unlike many series, "The Woman in the Wall" engages more and more as it informs and instructs, tightening its grip on the viewer's neck and moving him toward the edge of his seat, as if to correct his posture.

There are times, particularly in its tremulously hopeful finale, when the urgency of the show’s themes threatens to overwhelm its plot. But at its most effective, The Woman in the Wall is savvy enough to know that what will keep its message alive long after the end credits (set to a previously unreleased track by real-life Magdalene survivor Sinéad O’Connor) is a truly compelling story.

It is beautifully and harrowingly done. And – such a rarity this – the gothic element, spilling out of Lorna’s mind and home, feels not like a bolt-on to add drama lacking elsewhere but an integral part of the story.

I am no binge-watcher and it’s rare that I find myself itching for a second episode. But The Woman in the Wall was so stirring that I am desperate to know what happens next.

The Woman in the Wall isn’t particularly subtle about its themes or the larger messages it wants viewers to take away from it. (It’s unfortunate how timely these conversations about female bodily autonomy remain today, is all I’m saying.) Nor is it always a particularly easy watch. But whether you take it as a lesson, a cautionary tale, or something in between, at its core is a truth that deserves to be heard.

While the crime storyline is resolved a bit too tidily, the series is most passionate about finding justice and peace for the women like Lorna who have spent their adult lives under a cloud of grief and unresolved shame. [29 Jan - 18 Feb 2024, p.7]

The experimental aspect concerns Wilson’s courage as a performer and creator Joe Murtagh’s refreshing but genuinely challenging lack of interest in making traumatized people palatable.

The Woman in the Wall throws a whole load of stuff at the wall to see what sticks.

Despite the performances, the main issue plaguing “The Woman in the Wall” is that though the core story is compelling, it is weighed down and muddled by too many unnecessary genre elements.

It takes a few head-scratching plot shortcuts and is notably reliant on that inevitable trope of trauma-informed serial television, the character who is too emotionally constipated to reveal information that would hasten the resolution of the plot before the allotted six episodes.

Nothing feels finished in The Woman in the Wall, like a half-edited draft gone to print instead of a fully-formed piece of work. It’s as dissatisfying as any of the many other police procedurals cranked out by networks and streamers by the dozen, and not worth the price of admission.