Have you heard of “faith-based movies”? Well, “Heretic” is the exact opposite. In this thorny A24 thriller, co-directors Scott Beck and Bryan Woods (best known as the writers of “A Quiet Place”) ask the audience to accept Hugh Grant as a mad religious scholar so extreme that he arranges for two Mormon missionaries to be trapped in his home and tortured until they renounce their faith.
The lesson this patient has planned is to Bible study what Sue is to shopping classes. But this is Hugh Grant. When his bespectacled, woolly-jacketed character, Mr. Reed, opens the door, the two young men have no reason to question his motives or his generous offer of fresh blueberry pie.
These two evangelists are here to sell salvation. Beck and Woods are selling something else—suspense—and they rely on Grant’s radical transformation to keep the audience on their toes. And so it has. The beloved English actor has been branching out lately, playing dubious roles in Guy Ritchie films and even a comedic villain in “Paddington 2,” but he has never approached the darkness that “Heretic” demands. That’s the movie’s selling point, and it’s also a flaw in its logic.
Beck Woods’s screenplay is chatty and thought-provoking, but it’s shallower than it first appears, and it contains more ideas than most horror films. But why is Heretic a horror film at all? Beck Woods’s ideas would certainly have been more effective as a straight-up exchange between two college students—a fiery exchange, perhaps, between two arrogant students and their skeptical, overbearing professor—but they begin to feel not just stale, but almost irresponsible once Mr. Reed’s intentions become clear.
“Heretic” opens with Sister Paxton (Chloe East) and Sister Barnes (Sophie Thatcher) sitting on a park bench, discussing Magnum condoms. Paxton has heard that the condoms are the same size as regular condoms. It’s a strange conversation between two abstinent members of the LDS Church, and it feels like some kind of ploy to grab the attention of readers on the first page of an unfinished script (when the audience has already bought a ticket and doesn’t need the same convincing to continue watching).
But wait: Neither Paxton nor Barnes have the personal expertise to say whether Magnum’s theory is true, but they are skeptical enough to question the sales pitch. And that’s what Mr. Reed (as Grant’s character is called) wants them to do, too. He gave out his contact information to Mormon missionaries. He invited them to his house. And now that they’re here—a captive audience for his largely one-sided theological debate—he wants his guests to admit that they’re just glorified salesmen spreading the word about a false religion.
For most of “The Heretic,” Mr. Reed doesn’t address Paxton and Barnes. What interest would he have in converting them to his way of thinking? He addresses the audience, who are likely to agree with him more than two door-knocking missionaries who indoctrinate them with their parents’ faith. (In Barnes’s case, it’s a bit more complicated: she had a near-death experience when she was younger, which leads to one of the film’s more bleak endings.)
Once Mr. Reed lures the girls into his inner sanctum, he gives them a test. The room has two “exit” doors, marked with the words “Belief” and “Unbelief” in chalk. If they choose correctly, they are free to leave…or so he says. But can they trust him? His house is specially designed for this purpose, with lockable doors and windows and metal-coated ceilings and walls that block cell phone signals.
Mr. Reed seems to have thought of everything. In this space at least, he is free to play God—or guru, as he seems to prefer—and preach what he calls “the one true religion.” Mr. Reed uses pop-culture references to make his point, suggesting that all religions are “duplicates” of one another, much as The Hollies’ “The Air That I Breathe” inspired Radiohead, which in turn probably influenced Lana Del Rey’s “Get Free.” But what does this prove, since the differences between religions are often more obvious than their similarities?
“The common people consider religion to be true, the wise to be false, and the rulers to be useful,” Seneca says, summing up most of the discussion (and analysis) that has taken place among the audience. He’s the smartest guy in the room, and yet there’s something illogical about the way he tries to show how such systems are used to manipulate and control the masses, forcing the filmmakers to resort to dirty horror-movie tricks—the elaborate trick Reed calls his “miracle”—to keep us engaged.
Fortunately, the missionaries aren’t as naive as they seem. Sister Paxton is polite and eager to please, but she eventually sees through Mr. Reed’s arguments and asserts herself when needed. Like Winona Ryder in her youth, Sister Barnes has a ruthlessness and secrets of her own. But the most volatile character is Grant, as nothing he’s done before can prepare us for what he’s capable of here. He’s scary, sure, but that doesn’t necessarily fit. These two aren’t Mr. Reed’s first victims, but where did he find them? (A barely recognizable Topher Grace makes a brief appearance as Elder Kennedy, who’s sure to find out if the missionaries assigned to the Reed house keep disappearing.)
If we accept that fear and religion aren't that different, they all depend on what we believe… and it takes a big leap to accept the bumbling man in “Four Weddings and a Funeral” as being that twisted. If we accept that, “Heretic” can be a fun ride. It may not change your mind about religion, but you'll never think about blueberry pie the same way again.
