What do Blueberry Pie, Radiohead, and Mormonism all have in Common? Heretic.
Heretic first caught my attention when I got an email from A24 (very humbling to admit that I’m on their mailing list) selling a blueberry pie-scented candle, as a tie-in with one of their newest features, Heretic. Obviously, I had questions and had to see the film. Little did I know just how chilling that candle could be.
As someone whose last two voyages to the cinema were to see Terrifier 3 and Longlegs, it might be surprising to hear that the living room scene in Heretic was one of the most unsettling I’ve seen this year. In fact, the whole opening third of this film screams psychological horror done right. Hugh Grant's charming, disarmingly polite British mannerisms — many of us will be most familiar with him from romcoms (see: Bridget Jones’ Diary, Notting Hill, Four Weddings and a Funeral, and Love Actually) — become immensely chilling. I would even go as far as to say that the initial extended conversation between Grant’s character and Sophie Thatcher (who some among you might know from Yellowjackets) and Chloe East’s characters were in the tradition of the formula established in the opening of Barbarian, one of the best horror films of 2022. Of course, in Barbarian, this interaction relies on subverting the audience’s expectations — the character who seems immensely creepy is actually just a nice guy and not the villain of the movie that we assumed him to be.
In Heretic, this is not quite the case. Mr. Reed, Grant’s character, becomes more and more awkward, off-putting, and scary, but still exists in the realm of the possible — he has not entered full-blown supervillain territory just yet. The writers do an incredible job here. At the very beginning of the scene, the audience is introduced to the fact that female Mormon missionaries can only come into a house if there is at least one woman home, making the absence of Reed’s wife ominous. We see characters walking the line of reasonable doubt, wondering whether they are overreacting to an awkward situation, or if they are in danger, emphasizing the pressure on these young, sheltered women to be polite and spread their faith.
It is worth noting that both lead actresses grew up in the LDS church, and although the directors did not know that at the time of casting, it is likely what lends a real charm, authenticity, and understanding to their performances. It is possible that other actors in the same role would lean into stereotypical ideas about LDS practitioners, rather than the rounded and empathetic portrayals managed by Thatcher and East.
As the characters are ushered into the second room of Mr. Reed’s house, and into the second phase of the film, the dialogue remains just as strong as before. Unhinged references to pop culture and religion develop our understanding of the character as a madman. Also, hearing Hugh Grant sing Creep by Radiohead TWICE is worth the full price of admission alone.
The film’s limited cast and isolated setting bring about a tight, claustrophobic feel. As much as this film is a horror flick or psychological thriller, it is just as much an effective coming-of-age story, and despite being placed in what is effectively a faith-based Saw trap, Sisters Barnes and Paxton experience trials and tribulations which make sense for young women their age. This film tackles what happens when sheltered, potentially indoctrinated people enter the real world, albeit dialed up to 11.
Without spoiling too much of the film, the mid-way twist and change of protagonist is not the freshest plot device, maybe even a staple of the genre, but works well enough here. The movie also manages some really beautiful shots despite taking place mostly at night and in the dark, aided in large part by the remote gothic setting. The earlier parts of this films are the strongest, made fun with ridiculous pop culture references and strengthened by razor-sharp tension.