That’s that, then. That’s religion. It had a good run. Except, of course, if you happen to be religious, and will brush away any such declarations with the power of your faith.
In a nutshell, that’s the premise behind, and the dispute within Heretic (2024) – a film which comes off as a kind of theological Barbarian (2022), which is appropriate, because ‘barbarian’ has long been a handy epithet for a person outside the fold of Christian faith. Its horror derives from its antagonist’s determination to test that faith, recategorising religiosity as just another element of culture – probably derivative and ultimately, even trite. The two girls selected for this test are members of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints – Mormons, to give them their usual moniker, named Sister Barnes (Sophie Thatcher) and Sister Paxton (Chloe East, who funnily enough looks a bit like Sara Paxton). They never refer to one another by their first names; their bond is their sense of belonging to the Church, and their hope that today’s the day they will convert someone, baptising them into the Church and fulfilling their religious duty to evangelise. They have been raised to believe all of this, so in their defence, this is very important to them. But, based on listening to the girls’ early conversation, you get the distinct sense that they are each far from worldly – particularly Sister Paxton, whose naivety is probably written through and through her, like a stick of Brighton rock. Sister Barnes is perhaps a little more cynical, but it’s a low bar overall.
Their day’s work takes them to a pre-arranged meeting with a layman called Mr. Reed (Hugh Grant). Again, no first names, but this is a planned visit, rather than a surprise call. Mr. Reed has expressed an interest in hearing more about their religion, and they didn’t wait to be asked twice: they arrive, full of hope, carrying a Book of Mormon apiece, and ready to proselytise. Their subject is an affable-seeming gentleman of middle years, a little flustered maybe (it’s Hugh Grant after all) but agreeable; he invites them in, allaying their fears about propriety and safety by telling them his wife is also home. Here’s the first test: do they go in, despite not seeing any evidence of their agreed mark of safety? No woman, no go? Of course not; in they pop, literature at the ready. They start to converse with Mr. Reed, who explains to them that he has spent a sizable chunk of his life studying theology – looking for evidence of the one true faith, the alpha and omega of religious belief. Showing them a heavily-annotated and indexed Book of Mormon of his own, he explains that he has unfortunately come up against more barriers to religious experience than genuine possibilities. Now, in this, he is not particularly unusual, either within the film’s narrative or, in a broader sense, as a representative of modern man, but his conclusions – and the ways in which he decides to advance his knowledge – are a little more unorthodox.
The girls soon come to the (testable) assertion that they have been locked in a house which is part residence and part sophisticated trap. To stand any chance of getting to safety, they have to pass Mr. Reed’s theological tests – which both demand uncomfortable self-analysis and more practical problem-solving, which as mentioned above, turn out to be challenging for two very young girls fresh out of a very sheltered and absolutely certain moral space and place. It’s been impossible to avoid the discussion of Hugh Grant’s performance in this film, so far does it deviate from his usual, tousled, charming and awkward persona, but really he maintains that tousled, charming and awkward persona for the biggest share of the film. Sure, he gets more overtly cruel as the film rolls into its last act, but the real horror is in how this perfectly agreeable-seeming man is forcing a situation which threatens spiritual crisis, as much as it threatens physical harm, and he does this by raising some always-uncomfortable posers about religion – the ‘Big Three’ monotheistic belief systems in particular. Placing faith on a level with the worst aspects of consumerism – regarding them all as different species of ‘iteration’ – he tries to unpick the girls’ built-in systems of belief, promising them that he can show them the real essence of faith – if they can solve his puzzles. It would be a lot weaker if he did all of this by glowering with menace and trying for the sort of transformation you get with, say, Robin Williams in One Hour Photo (2002) – where an actor with a very distinct style does plump for a different mode altogether, but it fits that film very well. In Heretic, Hugh Grant remaining Hugh Grant does the job just fine.
The sets used here are astonishingly good, and the clever, snappy script, a script which is often as funny as it is dark, adds a new veneer to every otherwise familiar-feeling room or space. The gloomy corridors, statues with glittering eyes, lights which snap on and off on timers – as if the whole house is part of a board game – and of course the damp basement, are all recast as playing a part in an as-yet mystifying whole, where only one person holds the key, physically and metaphorically. But as the game goes on, the girls grow in confidence to try and reinterpret what’s in front of them. Sophie Thatcher does a great job as a young woman who clearly harbours something other than the seemingly twee received wisdom of her Church Sister; her oscillating defence of the Church’s old (and officially banned) policy of polygamy makes for a very powerful scene. However, Chloe East rises very successfully to the challenges placed before her. These are quite physical roles, too, with brief flashes of bloodshed which remain more about suggestion than splatter.
The film’s rising weirdness as the different levels of the house reveal new and appalling things (hence the Barbarian reference earlier) may take it closer and closer to fantasy, but again, its central premise is regularly and consistently steered back to the millennia of dreadful things done due to religion. It’s like a tap on the shoulder to make sure you’re still paying attention; there’s plenty weirder or worse than we’re being asked to consider, the film seems to say. And there’s no hard and fast lesson at the end either, just a solid balance of the ambiguity and the careful parcelling of details which keeps Heretic on track throughout. Sure, there are a couple of Chekhov’s Guns along the way, but always reintegrated into the narrative with skill. Heretic is a damn good job, and directors/writers Scott Beck and Bryan Woods have clearly and successfully brought their wealth of writing and production experience to the table here.
Heretic (2024) is in cinemas now.