Heretic is taut, well-acted, and brilliantly written

It’s not often that a conscientious Catholic moviegoer can recommend a horror movie, rife as they are with gratuitous, unwholesome, or just downright uncomfortable content. There are limits to what people should conjure, create, and consume—and horror movies easily move in the realms of thou-shalt-not.

There is a release, however, from boundary-pushing A24 Studios that is quite good, despite being a touch gruesome. While thoroughly a horror movie and sounding off on all the standard beats, it has a remarkably and soaringly intelligent edge to it. Heretic, starring Hugh Grant and directed by Scott Beck and Bryan Woods, builds a heart-thumpingly and frightening premise around the spiritual and intellectual trial of faith.

Critics have described Heretic as one of the shrewdest religious horror films in years, with excellent writing, transporting performances, sweeping cinematography, and the solid telling of a twisted story. It is a story that asks the audience to state what it is they believe, along with the protagonists, who are played by Sophie Thatcher and Chloe East, and to face the often-uncomfortable, often-terrifying challenge posed by Pilate, “What is truth?”

In a sharp and shifting game of wits, Heretic—like the Greek word it stems from meaning “able to make a choice”—challenges people to make a choice, to choose what we would stand for in the face of escalating and distressing pressures to question everything one might believe.

When two Mormon missionaries, Sister Barnes and Sister Paxton, knock on the door of a secluded house in response to a request for more information about the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, Mr. Reed is ready for them. They enter his house to talk after receiving his disarming assurance that his wife is present, baking blueberry pie. Their conversation quickly reveals that Mr. Reed knows a good deal more about their church than they do and that he has very probing criticisms about faith in general. All of which he delivers with demure, amiable civility.

But there is an ominous glint in his eyes. There is something unsettling in his questions that keep turning on the girls with personal incision. And there is something peculiar about his house, with lights that turn on and off automatically, doors that lock on a timer that cannot be opened for hours, and walls and ceiling that block cellphone signals. Mr. Reed presents all these things apologetically and in-passing, and the girls simply accept it.

When Mrs. Reed fails to appear, and Sister Barnes notices the blueberry pie they have been smelling is a scented candle, their peril becomes clear. Mr. Reed tells them if they wish to leave, they absolutely may, but they must do so from the back of his house, as he cannot open the front door given the house’s idiosyncrasies. So begins a descent into terror with tense and escalating discourse—ranging from religious iteration to simulation theory—as Mr. Reed presses his victims through his house-trap, to choose the door of belief or disbelief, to judge events that are either miracles or magic, to test their faith and his idea concerning the one true religion.

Heretic’s main strength is its high-concept, dialogue-driven plot: a cinematic component that is in deep crisis in the film industry. The effort and money poured into production values and star power rather than the script is indicative of a culture that prizes the spectacle over the intellectual. But Heretic stands starkly apart in this, being a tautly and even brilliantly written thriller.

Performance, naturally, goes hand-in-hand with the quality of the writing, and Hugh Grant leads this film with absolutely sinister aplomb, with nuanced and convincing performances from East and Thatcher, as well. Heretic is worth taking in just as the anomaly it is—a tight, insightful, and incisive story. It’s also a film worth supporting, for this reason, to indicate to Hollywood that audiences appreciate mental engagement in the movies.

Catholics may be wary of such a film as something attacking or antithetical to the Faith. That is a valid concern, for it is not advisable to expose ourselves to enemy assault, however mildly. But Heretic is a careful study in merely presenting the choice, providing as much argument for as against religious belief and the existence of God, leaving the question to the viewer. Though no one’s faith would be damaged or enhanced by such a film, it is also highly doubtful that anyone would be drawn to conversion.

Heretic is not a proselytizing piece, therefore, but simply a keen piece of religious entertainment. It may err in that it seems to base religious conviction on rational argument alone and misses the vital aspect of divine grace and the recognition of the goodness of reality, but even that is subject for interesting conversation arising from the film. Moreover, the film offers a chance for Catholics to hear objections that are not vapid. It is delivered in eloquent rapid-fire argument, though with serious logical flaws—but that is all part of a diabolical rhetoric.

Hearing those objections, conclusions, and convictions couched with the smiling face of progressive liberal atheism that has a decidedly ungodly mission, is chilling and revealing. If this film captures anything with a new poignancy, it is the charming quality of evil and how the devil can, indeed, cite Scripture for his purposes. The real horror of this horror movie is the position (spoiler) that the one true religion is just control, and not the violence (which it has) or the spooky imagery (which also abounds).

For Catholics, perhaps another aspect of tension in Heretic is the tension of evangelization. Catholics are not on the same ball of actively seeking conversion that many Protestant sects are on, and it is awakening to watch a bit of fun, fearful entertainment that poses the problem of being a missionary: of engaging over complicated tenets of faith, of encountering opposition and making counterpoint, of entering into a personal and private realm with delicacy, of confronting the danger of people’s hidden convictions and prejudices.

Heretic is a horror story, make no mistake, not only because of Catholic anxieties but also because of the hardened position against evangelization that is out there, ready to engage with a smile.

Horror movies dwell on the unknown, on questions that have no real answers—this can be the realm of faith or fear. Faith is always frightening to an extent because it necessarily involves the unknown, a thing every person naturally fears. Even the holiest person in the world was troubled and afraid when an angel appeared to her with news that she could not comprehend—but she believed. Heretic is about spiritual curiosity and assent to mysterious authority even over religious arguments.

But all of this is threatened by the things that can shake or shatter faith. For instance, as Mr. Reed says, revelation by God is filtered through man, man is flawed, and man lies. So how can we know if revelation is true? Or how can we accept that God watches us sin with such a fragile ego that He won’t help us even when we beg, and hates people for how He made them. Terrifying. Or how can we accept that we are alone in the universe with no purpose hurtling on a rock through space. Terrifying.

Heretic invites a consideration at the crossroads of faith and fear, and though it is just a bit of popcorn fun in the end, it is surprisingly intelligent, well-researched, and accurate in the way it poses its questions and enters into an apologia on religion. Some have called this movie a satisfying mixture of St. Thomas Aquinas and Saw. Well, that is not far from the case, which makes Heretic something of a hard sell for many Catholic moviegoers, but it’s a wickedly clever muse on the history and psychology of belief in the divine, the strength to hold firm, and the courage to persevere even unto death.