Director: Anna Hints (Estonia, France, Iceland). Year of Release: 2023
Southern Estonia in the middle of winter. A woman is digging a hole in the ice with a spade, creating enough space in the freezing water for a small ersatz swimming pool. Behind her is a hut which will soon fill up with naked women. We will later learn that the smoke saunas used by the local Võro community have been listed by UNESCO as an “intangible cultural heritage of humanity.” They provide a place where women can come together and talk.
With the exception of a little dancing, swimming in the ice-cold pool and one of the women playing a primitive accordian, Smoke Sauna Sisterhood largely consists of women talking. The stories they tell are initmate and very personal, stories that they would be unlikely to tell in mixed company. It is a credit to director Anna Hints and cinematographer Ants Tammik that the women are able to ignore the camera in the room.
The first discussion that we hear is about beauty myths, and trying to fit society’s unrealistic expectations of what a woman should look like. Different women talk about the self-consciousness that they felt as girls – they considered themselves to be “too fat” or unable to win a man, which was the main sign that they had succeeded in life. The camera focuses not on the person telling the story, but to other women who are listening, really listening, to what is being told.
One by one, they talk of the way in which society has made them feel inadequate. Of indifferent parents who would have preferred to have a boy. There is an extended discussion of dick pics on dating apps. Some have received them much too often. Others not, and are curious why anyone would want to send unflattering pictures of their own genitals. Someone asks playfully if anyone would consider sending a “pussy pic”. They all laugh at the prospect.
Other stories are more personal. One woman explains the debilitating effect of cancer surgery – not just to her body, but to her sense of self-worth. In the end, she made peace with herself, saying that the soul cannot be cut away. Another recalls giving birth to a stillborn baby. Although she knew that the foetus was already dead, she still had to push it out of her body. A number talk proudly about abortions that they – and their mothers – chose to have.
Another recalls coming out as a lesbian, at first to a friend who she fancied. The friend’s response was absolute rejection, but the sympathy exuded by the women in the sauna, who are largely strangers, is palpable. I could not imagine the same reaction from a group of men. The woman then goes on to describe coming out to her parents. Her mother accepted her sexuality as a matter of fact (people are what they are). Her father remained taciturn and was much slower to win over.
The most disturbing story comes towards the end of the film and telling it seems to take forever. One of the women explains how she lost her virgnity – she was raped by an older man who offered to drive her own. She recalls the incident in excrutiating detail. She also recalls finally escaping the man to find someone who offered to help – only to be sexually abusive to her a second time. Years later, watching news coverage of sexual predators, she recognised the man who abused her.
Once more, the face of the woman explaining this traumatising piece of personal history is hidden. Instead the camera concentrates on the women who are listening to her and comforting her. One strokes her hair, another holds her hand as she breaks down in tears. After telling her harrowing story, she asks “I want to protect my daughter from something like this happening but how can I?” The fact that there is no obvious answer is an indictment of a society which lets this happen.
I only went to this film because it was in the right place at the right time before a different appointment. I was a little reluctant as the trailer looked pretty kitschy. What we see instead is intimate and moving, although at times I had the feeling that maybe I was intruding on someone else’s private conversation. It was clearly important for the women to tell their histories. But however much sympathy and empathy they evoke, I felt slightly uneasy listening in.
Towards the end, the women join in a chant which ends with them shouting: “Sweat out the pain. Sweat out the fear”. On paper, this may feel to stray a little too close to hippy bollocks, but the joint action seems to have a liberating effect. The women’s tragic histories, some many decades old, are no longer something with which they have to deal with on their own. With the support of their sisters they have been able to face their demons collectively.
I’m still not fully convinced about the conceit of the film. I get the metaphorical value – the naked women are able to unburden themselves among a group of similarly naked women. But they are not alone. There is a camera in the room. Even if they have learned to ignore the camera, it felt like there was something improper about intruding on their private conversations, however interesting and revealing they are.
This is a minor quibble, though. The stories that we hear are an articulate expression of what it is to be a woman in a society which doesn’t fully respect women. I’m not totally convinced that we needed the nudity, but if that’s what it takes to make the women feel free to express themselves, the film has served its purpose. (I’m still not convinced that this is what it takes, but don’t see that its worth the fuss to push this point).
CinePhil 