SOFT & QUIET

She’s young, she’s a kindergarten teacher, her name is Emily and she’s giving her all for her community. Tonight she’s going to her weekly discussion group for women, accompanied with a nice specimen of home-made pie. Once the customary greetings over with, she brings out her freshly baked delight, with right at its center a proudly displayed swastika. A nice little touch that immediately breaks the ice. It’s a disgrace how positive discrimination prevents them from getting promotions in their own f***ing country, how a bunch of welfare bloodsuckers is not only robbing them of work but are also denigrating the sacred American Way of Life. Can we talk about White Lives Matter too, please? Whatever happened to free speech in this godforsaken country? How on Earth is it suddenly un-American to defend your country and its values? F***ing immigrants. My my, you certainly get thirsty when you’re on a roll and so our group of neo-fascist fanatics go out to grab some wine. But what they’re about to witness in the store is going to be a golden opportunity for the ladies to put their supremacist verbal vomit into action… “The worst panic attack I’ve ever had during a screening”, “You’re definitely going to need a shower to wash off all the muck. I’m giving it the highest rating”… Director Beth de Araùja – and her near all-female cast and crew – give a relentless uppercut to America and its post-Trump banalization of everyday racism. Excruciatingly hard to sit through, but oh so necessary.