Heretic, an A24 movie written and directed by Scott Beck and Bryan Woods (of 65 fame), is a Hansel and Gretel variant that carries elements of Midsommar, Saw and Barbarian, in this case with two naïve, Mormon missionaries visiting a home, occupied by a friendly, "pie-baking" gent, who claims he's willing to hear their heartfelt spiel. The only thing is, the gent isn't really much of a gent, but more of a fiend and a specious, questioning one, at that.
The erudite Hugh Grant plays that fiend, named Mr. Reed, with the girls played by Sophie Thatcher, as Sister Barnes, and Chloe East, as Sister Paxton. (For the sake of inserting a diverting character, Tofer Grace portrays a church elder who seeks the girls after they fail to return home. Is he a savior or mere MacGuffin? Ah, you'll just have to watch and see.)
The crafty ol' Mr. Reed (who often behaves like a kinetic, Roderick Usher) puts the youngsters through theological debate and later, calculated, daunting tests within his home (in a cat-and-mouse sort of deal), with its stages shifting like the panels of a Lament Configuration. (With each shift, an new perplexity comes.) The girls must rely on their wits to survive, but because of their dispositions, faith also intervenes. Such isn't enough to make Heretic a Dracula, Omen or Exorcist, but in its own unassuming way, it traces the same grain.
Chung Chung-hoon's photography bolsters the story's creepiness, sweeping the setup from dark-and-cozy to downright harrowing (rather in line with James Whales' unsettling, The Old Dark House). Chris Bacon's score works well, too, building the suspense step by step and then letting it burn like crazy when things fly off the deep end. (The Hollies' "The Air That I Breathe," Radio Head's "Creep" and Lana del Ray's "Get Free" also stand as allegorical additions to both the effective score and thematic plot.)
Though it has many fine attributes, Heretic is, above all, an ominous allegory for facing everyday life, for through Hugh Grant's charming persona, we may recognize people we know or have encountered, who tend to smile and nod for personal gain, but find the means to stick the ol' metaphoric knife in our backs when we're not looking. Heretic tells us, in this respect, to watch out for those smiling faces that sometimes (if not a good deal of the time) tell lies, as they search for personal strength or more so, personal truth. Otherwise, Heretic can be take at eerie, face value: a true-blue, terror tale and pleasing, post-Halloween submission that'll keep the autumnal chill going long after its gone.
It suddenly hit me: Grant's character is much like certain professors I've had over the years, being cordial at first, but then pompous to an intimidating fault. The young ladies in the story are, for all intents, his students, who he hopes to belittle into failure.
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