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Soft & Quiet opens with the character Emily (Stefanie Estes) crying over another negative pregnancy test inside a restroom stall. Naturally viewers might feel sorry for this person in emotional distress, yet that sense of sympathy gradually fades as the same character, an elementary teacher, talks to one of her students after school. Emily slyly indoctrinates a young boy, teaching him to fear those unlike him. From there Emily then travels by foot to an unknown destination, making the journey with a home-baked pie in her hands and a curious look on her face.

After a considerable trek through a nearby patch of woods, which are in hindsight the only moments of peace in Beth de Araújo’s overwhelming debut, Emily and a few other women gather inside a small church. As everyone at this sparsely attended meeting airs their complaints and bounces ideas off each other, it is abundantly clear the incident at the school wasn’t a one-time event or unique to Emily. On the contrary, Emily and her like-minded peers have all gathered today for the first meeting of the Daughters for Aryan Unity. And after the camera zooms in on a pie with a swastika carved into the center, and after two characters exchange Nazi salutes, the truth becomes more irrefutable; this is a movie about white nationalism.

Other movies in the past have approached racism with caution or used it sparingly, but Soft & Quiet is brazen and unfiltered. The bigotry is said aloud to avoid any ambiguity. And so long as someone chooses to keep watching, they experience white nationalism in its most overlooked form in the media. The characters aren’t seen wearing white hoods or storming the government, and they come from all walks of life. People like Emily hide behind a smile. They are neighbors, colleagues, teachers, and in some cases, friends and family. This social illness has deep and extensive roots in America, and this movie sets out to expose them.

Soft & Quiet is a daring and unique endurance test where every new scene becomes more stressful than the one before it. And after the initial shock of the contentious setup comes the movie’s inciting incident. Emily and her allies, local shop owner Kim (Dana Millican), ex-convict Leslie (Olivia Luccardi) and a disgruntled employee named Marjorie (Eleanore Pienta), all escalate a bad situation at Kim’s liquor store. Two customers (Cissy Ly, Melissa Paulo) come in before closing to buy wine, and because of who they are, Kim initially denies them service. This leads to a charged confrontation between the women, as well as the beginning of the movie’s horror element.

Despite its title, Soft & Quiet’s execution is harsh and its message is loud. The format is a large reason why the moving play is so effective. Araújo puts the viewers squarely in the main characters’ shoes, whether or not they want to be there. The real-time technique makes the entire experience even more uneasy, and the decision to tell the story in one take — really a composite of four long takes — is not only bold but also advantageous. The audience is consumed by the growing and inescapable tension as Emily and her ilk act on their hate. Catching one’s breath is next to impossible here once everything spirals so terribly out of control.

While there are some opposing views here, they are brief or minimal. The pastor who overhears the meeting wants nothing of the sort in his church, though he only adds to the women’s delusion of persecution. And the sole voice of reason among the main group is nowhere to be found once all hell breaks loose. By primarily focusing on Emily and the others, with little resistance or interruption to speak of, Soft & Quiet emphasizes how their certain mindset flourishes when left unchecked or unchallenged. These characters are a terrifying reminder of an active and expanding segment of the U.S., an open secret that people choose to ignore.

The technical skill involved here is impressive, the themes are delivered with conviction, and the performances are astonishing. That all may not be enough to make people watch, though. After all, Soft & Quiet is an abrasive and bleak experiment that isn’t interested in coddling or making the villains sympathetic. Araújo’s movie indeed asks a lot of its audience. Relief is nowhere to be found in this shocking white-power nightmare, though that level of discomfort hopefully encourages much needed conversations about racism and complacency.

Soft & Quiet premiered at SXSW 2022, and is available for Digital rental now.