Done correctly, religious horror, no matter the denomination, can provide the most potent form of terror. Rooted in our prima fears, of good versus evil, of the afterlife and the absence of faith, it preys upon our most basic beliefs to scare the hell out of us.
Unfortunately, although set in a convent, “Immaculate,” a new film starring Sydney Sweeney, and now playing in theaters, is more b-movie exploitation than religious horror.
The film sets the stage with a creepy prologue of a young woman’s desperate attempt to escape from a nunnery, only to be held back and meet a terrible fate. Turns out, the convent is like the Hotel California, “You can check-out any time you like, but you can never leave!”
The horrific opening fades into the story of the Michigan born-and-raised Sister Cecilia (Sydney Sweeney). As a child, she survived a near death experience that imbuing her with faith that pointed her toward a life of service in the name of God. “God saved me for a reason,” she says. “But I’m still searching for what that reason is.”
As an adult novitiate nun, her American parish is shuttered for poor attendance and she is relocated to a convent tucked away in the Italian countryside. “I will carry myself with grace,” she says, “because I want nothing more than to be here.” Built in 1632 as a transition home for elder sisters on the fast track to heaven, it is a maze of dimly lit corridors, creaky floors and gothic architecture.
“Suffering is love,” she is told by way of welcome from the Mother Superior (Dora Romano).
After a rocky start, it’s revealed that she is pregnant, despite being a virgin. “How long until they start calling you Mary?” asks the edgy Sister Isabel (Giulia Heathfield Di Renzi). Convinced she is carrying the second coming of Christ, the nuns who once treated her with disdain, now regard her as a miracle.
For Cecilia, however, the situation is anything but miraculous. “Out of all the women in the world,” she asks, “why did He choose me?”
“Immaculate” has the look of a religious horror film, from the convent to the iconography and the stern-faced nuns but underneath its sacred façade is a button-pushing exploitation movie dressed up in a nun’s habit.
Director Michael Mohan starts things off slowly, hanging the horror on jump scares and odd imagery. Mysterious red-faced nuns appear, sowing some sacrilegious shocks, and loud sounds startle from time to time, but despite some icky fingernail trauma and branding, it isn’t until the third act that all hell breaks loose.
Sweet Sister Cecilia, pregnant and finally aware that she is in danger, finally flips the switch from meek and mild to extreme and wild. Her attempts to survive shed all pretences of piety to fully submerge the movie in a blood-soaked climax that is as disturbing as it is memorable. The extreme nature of the final moments showcases Sweeney’s ability to hold the screen, but make absolutely no sense in terms of the character. As an answer to reclaiming her bodily autonomy her behaviour makes some sort of horror movie logic, but her sudden personality shift is so jarring, it’s as if her evil twin suddenly enters the picture and takes over.
At a fast-paced 90 minutes of nunsploitation, “Immaculate” rips along, but only really delivers what fans want in its final, barmy moments.
Thirteen years after creepy kid Esther was revealed to be a grown woman in the original thriller “Orphan,” she’s back in a prequel that sets up the events of the first film. Isabelle Fuhrman returns to play the crazed-killer orphan of the title, a thirty-something woman afflicted with a hormone disorder that stunted her physical growth. “She never grew older,” says her doctor, “at least on the outside.”
The action in “Orphan: First Kill,” begins at the Saarne Institute, an Estonian psychiatric hospital, home to a dangerous killer named Leena (Fuhrman). “Leena may look like a child but she is a grown woman.”
One murderous rampage later, she escapes, and, after some quick on-line research, finds a missing kid she resembles. Using the name Esther, she makes her way to Connecticut, and poses as the long-lost daughter of Allen (Rossif Sutherland) and Tricia Albright’s (Julia Stiles). She rocks a Wednesday Addams kind look, wearing old-fashioned ribbons in her hair to disguise the scars from the electric shock treatment at the hospital, and says she picked up her heavy accent after being kidnapped and taken to Russia.
Greeted warmly by Allen and Tricia, son Gunnar (Matthew Finlan) isn’t as overjoyed. “She has an accent now and dresses like Lizzie Borden,” he says when asked what Esther is like since her return.
So far, the movie echoes the original film, but then comes a twist that gives new meaning to the old saying about cleaning up after the kids.
“Orphan: First Kill” maintains the mix of camp and gore that made the first movie memorable. The thirty-year-old killer in the body of a child is an absurd premise, but it’s handled with the right amount of dark humor, style and bloody kills, and is campy good fun. Much of this has to do with the twist—which I can’t tell you about—but it also helps that Fuhrman, who last played this character when she was a preteen, is able to sell the idea of Esther as a child-woman.
Director William Brent Bell uses a number of tricks, like forced perspective and child actor doubles, to create the illusion that Esther is a teenager that creates a sense of continuity with the first film. Thirteen years is a long layover between movies, but the two films fit together snugly.
“Orphan: First Kill” may be the prequel nobody was waiting for, but after a slow start in the movie’s first half, it picks up and freshens up the story with a ghoulishly fun twist and some good creepy kid action.
“The Night House,” a new thriller starring Rebecca Hall and now playing in theatres, explores the psychological damage left behind after tragedy and secrets tear a couple apart.
When we first meet upstate New York high school teacher Beth (Hall) she is lost in grief in the aftermath of her husband Owen’s (Evan Jonigkeit) sudden death. She’s angry, self-medicating with alcohol to dull the pain.
At night, alone in the beautiful lake house he built for them, she is tormented by ghostly visions. Bloody footprints appear, the stereo snaps on by itself to play “their song” and there are loud knocks at the door, but when she opens the door, there’s nobody there. During the daylight hours, she’s left with her grief and a nagging sense that Owen left behind as many secrets as he did memories.
Her friend Claire (Sarah Goldberg) and neighbour Mel (Vondie Curtis-Hall) offer support, but the horrifying visions and aural experiences continue, pushing her to the edge. As she packs up his things, clothes, books, the compiled ephemera of a life, she uncovers evidence that Owen had a hidden life involving the occult and a number of women who look remarkably like Beth.
“The Night House” is a gothic psychological horror film anchored by Hall’s remarkable performance. She turns the idea of the grieving widow on its head, playing Beth as indignant and unsympathetic. As she cycles through the stages of grief, focusing on the anger, it’s gut wrenching. An early scene with the mother of one of her students complaining about her son’s poor grade is brutal in its honesty laid bare. She is an open wound and Hall commits to the edgier aspects of the character, allowing the viewer a window into Beth’s world.
Director David Bruckner builds plenty of atmosphere and a sense of the strange that keeps the off-kilter story afloat despite the script’s leaps of logic. As Beth’s inner turmoil escalates the story adds in too many elements that don’t go anywhere like a second house in the woods and Beth’s doppelganger. As the script becomes more and more convoluted the intensity built in the film’s first half dissipates.
“The Night House” is a provocative look at grief with a great lead performance but is undone by a drawn-out approach to the story.
Is Maud (Morfydd Clark), the nurse at the centre of the genuinely creepy “Saint Maud,” a true believer, a woman touched by the hand of God, or a troubled person looking for answers in all the wrong places?
Opening with scenes of an unexplained medical accident, “Saint Maud” wastes no time hinting at the grim visuals to come. Cut to Maud in her dowdy bedsit. Gathering her things, she makes her way out the door, wondering to God what her place in the world is. “Surely I was meant for more than this,” she says as she arrives at the home of her charge, a glamorous former dancer named Amanda (Jennifer Ehle), a late stage cancer patient.
They are an odd couple. Amanda is used to a life of indulgence while Maud is an intensely devout palliative care nurse who believes salvation comes through suffering. “Never waste your pain,” she says. Maud does not approve of Amanda’s lifestyle, but the two women seem to bond in a moment of shared religious ecstasy. Later, when it becomes clear that Amanda isn’t looking for salvation, Maud is fired, pushed to even more extreme behavior to fulfill what she sees as God’s plan for her life.
“Saint Maud” carefully doles out its shocks, allowing a shroud of unease to envelop the proceedings. British writer-director Rose Glass has made an up-close-and-personal horror film that details the protagonist’s torment in very vivid terms. Much of what happens is internal, portrayed through Clark’s finely crafted performance. She is both vulnerable and steely, zealous and unsure before the events of the climax reveal her relationship with God. Whether it is real a test of her faith or imagined is open to interpretation. The final twenty minutes of this short film—with credits it’s eighty-five minutes—are a surreal culmination to Maud’s internal struggle, ripe with religious imagery, gothic sensibility and martyrdom.
“Saint Maud” is a sizzling mix of psychological drama and devotion that could have used a dose of backstory to help us understand why Maud became pious to the point of extremity. As it is we get hints along the way, and while the story is still very effective, it could have been deepened by a better glimpse into Maud’s past.
Academy Award winner Charlie Kaufman scripted “Being John Malkovich,” “Adaptation” and “Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind,” mind-bending movies that essay themes of identity crisis, mortality and the meaning of life through a metaphysical or parapsychological filter. His latest project, “I’m Thinking of Ending Things,” an adaptation of Iain Reid’s bestselling novel and now streaming on Netflix, fits on the shelf next to his best-known work. It’s a fascinating road trip—and head trip—that is equal parts unsettling atmosphere and tension.
Jessie Buckley and Jesse Plemons are a new couple on a road to trip to visit his parents at their rural farm. Although she has misgivings about the relationship, and is thinking about calling it quits, they seem well suited, playfully singing show tunes and talking as they stay just ahead of threatening snow squalls.
The storm intensifies after they reach the farm and the couple are snowed in with his welcoming but eccentric parents, mother (Toni Collette) and father (David Thewlis). As they get to know one another over an awkward dinner the young woman’s (she’s never identified by name) feelings of unease intensify as questions arise about her boyfriend’s mental health.
On the way home a detour to an empty high school sends her further down the rabbit hole of doubt.
“I’m Thinking of Ending Things” is a cerebral, slow burn story of suspense and menace anchored by four terrific performances. Collette and Thewlis are wonderfully weird, bringing these strange, somewhat inappropriate characters to vivid life without giving away spoilers as to what’s to come. Plemons is well cast as the All-American boy with a secret but it is Buckley who dominates. As written the role is internal, much of the interesting stuff happens in her head, but her work is never cold or clinical. She brings warmth to the character as the very fabric of her psyche is being challenged. It’s a long strange trip but Buckley’s exploration of the frailty of the human spirit is compelling.
As director and screenwriter Kaufman takes his time, allowing the characters to mix and mingle, physically and perhaps mentally, and the suspense to build. It’s a tricky dance. He dispenses just enough information to move the story forward while creating an atmosphere that grows until the film’s final twenty, trippy minutes. Kaufman artfully brings the movie’s themes of regret and longing into focus with a bizarre and beautiful climax.
“I’m Thinking of Ending Things” is a haunting film made human by terrific performances.
Richard Zooms with “You Should Have Left” star Kevin Bacon. They talk about the movie’s portrayal of psychological drama, what dreams really mean and why the movie is more timely now than when they filmed it. Then Richard asks the “Footloose” star about Ontario’s recent “no dancing, no singing” on patios rule.
YOU SHOULD HAVE LEFT SYNOPSIS: What should have been a distraction free vacation at a remote house in Wales for husband and wife Theo (Bacon) and Susanna Conroy (Amanda Seyfried) and daughter Ella (Avery Tiiu Essex), turns out to be anything but when their “simple sanctuary” morphs into something sinister.
What should have been a distraction free vacation at a remote house in Wales for husband and wife Theo (Kevin Bacon) and Susanna Conroy (Amanda Seyfried) and daughter Ella (Avery Tiiu Essex), turns out to be anything but when their “simple sanctuary” morphs into something sinister.
Susanna is a busy actor; Theo is a rich banker starting a new life and family after his first wife died under mysterious circumstances. Feeling the need for quality time, they jet off to Wales to spend a week in the country. The rental house is even more beautiful than the on-line pictures. “It’s bigger on the inside than outside,” Theo marvels as they walk into the majestic foyer. There’s no cell service and the place is stark, stripped of all the owner’s personal touches, but Ella’s bedroom has a bed “the size of Connecticut” and all seems well.
At first.
Soon, doors open by themselves and Theo discovers a hallway that appears to be a place where time stands still. Then, the strange dreams begin. Before long Theo’s nightmares spill over into his waking hours as reality and dreamland become harder and harder to differentiate. Tensions flare, and after a fight Susanna leaves to cool off, leaving Theo and Ella in the house alone overnight.
It’s then that things get really weird. The house seems to adhere to the wonky laws of physics as written by M.C. Escher. One room is five feet longer in the inside than the outside and the home’s long hallways are interconnected in ways designed to entrap and confound anyone unfortunate to find themselves stuck in their seemingly endless maze.
As Theo tries to keep Ella safe, he finds an ominous note scrawled in his diary. “You should have left,” it says in large, sloppy letters. “Now it’s too late.” What’s going on? Is he trapped in a haunted multiverse? Is the house the course of his torment or are these phenomena a product of an unhealthy mind?
“You Should Have Left” is heavy on atmosphere but light on actual raise-the-hairs-on-the-back-of-your-neck scares. There is the odd jump scare moment but the movie is mainly geared toward psychological drama, the primal fear for the safety of a child or losing one’s sanity. Theo spends a great deal of time wandering the house, opening the doors that sometimes lead somewhere unexpected, sometimes lead him right back to where he started. It’s a clever way to represent the various parts of his personality and the psychological journey he is on. “The right ones always find the house,” says a townsperson. “Or is it the reverse? does the house find them?”
Director David Koepp keeps the special effects to a minimum, relying instead on the weight of Theo’s psychological crisis to carry the story. It’s like “The Shining” without a showstopping “Here’s Johnny” scene. The weird and wild stuff is mostly done with camera tricks and inventive direction, giving the haunted house scenes an organic, slightly more realistic feel.
“You Should Have Left” is part psychological thriller, part morality tale. At just ninety minutes it feels a hair long and a late stage dramatic point between Susanna and Theo feels forced but Bacon keeps the portrait of a man trying to understand what is happening around him intriguing.
The last time we saw Danny Torrance, son of Jack and Wendy Torrance by way of Stephen King, he was a young boy who had trapped his father in a deadly maze outside The Overlook Hotel. In Stanley Kubrick’s film “The Shining” little Danny has psychic powers known as the “shining.” A new film, “Doctor Sleep,” brings us up to date on Danny’s later life and the effects of family tauma.
Now going by the more adult name Dan (Ewan McGregor), Torrance is still haunted by the events of his youth. Alcoholic and unhappy, he pursues peace by working in a hospice, using his unique power to comfort the dying. His patients call him Doctor Sleep and soon his work, along with the help of AA, help him overcome his torment. His tranquility is undone when he meets psychic teenager Abra Stone (Kyliegh Curran). “You’re magic,” Abra says, “like me.” “I don’t know about magic,” Dan replies. “I always called it “the shining.”
Abra’s abilities—“Her head is like a radio that sometimes picks up strange stations.”—have caught the attention of the True Knot, a tribe of demonic psychics led by Rose the Hat (Rebecca Ferguson), an almost-immortal being who feeds off children’s telepathic abilities to prolong her own life. “They eat screams and drink pain,” says Dan’s mentor-in-shining Dick Hallorann (Carl Lumbly). To battle Rose and her evil minions Danny must face his greatest fear, returning to the psychological horrors of the Overlook Hotel.
The spirit of Stanley Kubrick’s “The Shining” hangs heavy over “Doctor Sleep”—visual homages and callbacks abound—but where the 1980 film is an exercise in icy exterior thrills the new one, directed by Mike “Oculus” Flanagan, brings a thaw to the action. He has opened up the action and the characters. Kubrick created claustrophobia by setting the action mostly in the closed off rooms and hallways of the Overlook Hotel while Flanagan, who also wrote the script, lets the characters roam free, exploring the world around them and the inner workings of their extra-special-psyches. It makes for a much different feeling film that contains similar amounts of suspense—although it must be said, not nearly the same level of outright fear—but an added dose of emotional resonance and friendship.
McGregor is never quite as compelling as Jack Nicholson was in the original film but the supporting characters pick up much of the slack. As Abra, Curran is the most compelling character on screen. Fearless and resilient, she has an open heart and it is her friendship with Torrance that brings his lifelong journey for peace to a head. In one nicely rendered scene Dan speaks through her in a moment ripe with danger. Curran embodies the character and it is eerie to see the thirteen-year-old take on the weight of her adult counterpart.
Ferguson plays Rose the Hat as a bohemian villain. Callous and cruel, she brings a much-needed sense of unpredictability and danger to a story that isn’t particularly scary. It’s atmospheric and the character work brings us in, but it likely won’t haunt your dreams with the exception of one scene.
(MILD SPOILER ALERT) The True Knot believe that pain purifies the “steam,” the essence of their victims, which leads to a very unpleasant scene involving the demise of Jacob Tremblay as a young baseball player. You either remember him as the vulnerable child in “Room” or the foul-mouthed star of “Good Boys,” but this grim scene will give you new, nasty memories of his work.
“Doctor Sleep” often feels like a tribute to “The Shining” but brings enough of its own ideas on the effects of childhood trauma and the lingering pain of a shattered family to add richness and originality to the movie.
