So religion is pretty crazy, huh? Some would argue so, considering everything from various ideas of an afterlife, its influence on history and national governments, and not to mention an occasional genocide. But, hey, it can also be a very fulfilling belief system and a wonderful moral compass when practiced with kindness and inclusion. Either way, it gets a little bit messy sometimes! And no movie has contextualized that in quite as a profound way as A24’s Hugh Grant vehicle, Heretic.
Heretic, at it’s core, is thematically more interested in theology and faith than any specific religion directly, and Hugh Grant’s Mr. Reed certainly pontificates this ad nauseam with cheeky sardonic arrogance. While Sister Barnes (Sophie Thatcher) and Sister Paxton (Chloe East) are in fact Mormon, Heretic makes it pretty clear from the offset that their particular brand of religion is more of a catalyst for bigger ideas (aside from some great Mormon-centric bits) than a comment on their faith. That would be a way less interesting movie than what Heretic ultimately provides.
While I’m not a man of faith myself, I did grow up in Catholic and Jesuit schools for 16 years, and have always found religion and theology fascinating. Something I loved about Heretic is that while it does criticize religion at large, it also makes a very sweet and kind case for why religion is important and the power of some wholesome faith.
Spoilers, of course, to follow, duh.
Although it never goes full supernatural, Heretic definitely teases the idea of divine intervention here and there, leaving the audience to wonder if there are in fact forces beyond our control answering prayers and rewarding our faith and such. We ultimately learn that Mr. Reed is a sick fuck that wants to prove a point to any extent like our worst drunk friend at a party (x30 million), using faithful victims as an experiment to intricately punish them for their blind faith. He succeeds to a point, but is thwarted by a couple of instances of (possible?) divine intervention. This is followed by a beautifully ambiguous (if not slightly predictable) ending implying Sister Paxton’s earlier posited idea of her afterlife is (maybe) fulfilled.
Are these moments true acts of God? Acts of will? Simply in our characters heads?
Let’s explore this, as well as the craft of writing a tightly woven theological script, below.
Faith and Theology and Such
Mr. Reed’s big spiel once his true intentions start to unravel begin in a bit of an unexpected way: an analogy for the history religion via Monopoly (and then, of course, Hollies to Radiohead to Lana Del Rey) adaptations.
The transfer of Judaism, to Christianity, to Islam, to finally (our heroines chosen faith) Mormonism is dwindled down to the expansion of the infamously long-winded board game we all hate to love and love to hate. As Grant’s Mr. Reed pontificates, the supposed original Monopoly was a rip-off of an old school board game designed by Elizabeth Magie called The Landlord’s Game (icky) with essentially all the same rules and play style, ripped off by entrepreneur Charles Darlow who sold the modernized version Monopoly to the Parker Brothers. The pitch is that this adaptation and thus ripoff of religious institutionalized ideals undermines the validity of faith in choosing one denomination of religion while ignoring the rest.
As Sister Barnes puts it, this is pretty paper thin, ignoring a lot of other factors that go into each respective faith. Regardless of how you feel, this is the infrastructure leading to the grander motive behind Mr. Reed’s grand, cruel thesis: the bottom line of religion is control.
After his Monopoly monologue, he inevitably leads into what is more or less the set of Heretic—the choice of two doors that potentially lead to escaping his intricately rigged home of “Belief” and “Disbelief”. Though Sister Barnes and Sister Paxton choose “Belief”, we later learn both doors lead to the same scary dungeon, and that it didn’t matter what they ultimately chose.
They were doomed from the start from violent force of control that Mr. Reed dedicated an unhealthy amount of time to prove. Which leads us to..
The Butterfly Setup
Butterflies aren’t always the most original when it comes to symbolism in films, but when the flutter, boy do they flutter.
Butterflies are technically brought up twice in Heretic in two completely different contexts. The first (and most relevant for this article), is Sister Paxton’s first-act declaration that her idea of the afterlife is landing in just the right moment after she’s died where her loved one will know its her and that she loves them forever. It’s sweet! And a great way in which Heretic pulls on the theme of faith as a personal philosophy versus an evil organized institution. This plays well into the themes well.
There’s a small aside where Mr. Reed goes into the “Butterfly Hypothesis” of string theory and different universes, but he’s mostly just bullshitting, if we’re being honest. The true butterfly moment happens in the final moments.
This happens after Sister Paxton inevitably escapes the Reed home, saved in her near-final moments by Sister Barnes last act, bashing Mr. Reed down for good before her defeats Sister Paxton. Once she escapes and sees the butterfly, it’s of course implied this is Sister Barnes (whether or not this is real is up to you!) holds deeper relevance by Sister Barnes last will to save Sister Paxton. See, she’s presumed well dead after Mr. Reed slits her throat with a box cutter, but the lead up to this is especially relevant.
In Mr. Reeds mass manipulation, he feeds one of his former victims a poisonous blueberry pie, staging her “resurrection” to prove his point. This is later revealed to be very staged via a well-timed trap door, of course, and very much not an at of any god. However, it feels particularly relevant that Sister Barnes “resurrects”, in a sense, to save Sister Paxton leading up to their butterfly moment.
This is all a culmination of the structure of convenient storytelling, dramatic irony, and the theme of faith. Was Sister Barnes “resurrected” to save Sister Paxton? Did she metaphysically appear as a butterfly after the fact, or was this imagined? Heretic doesn’t tell us, and that’s the whole point, dude! It’s all about the interpretation of faith.
And as the credits toll to Sophie Thatcher’s cover of “Knocking on Heaven’s Door” we’re left to keep on pondering.
Well Informed Theological Writing
All said and done, faith in film is a powerful, intriguing theme. Exploring these existential ideas in palatable ways is something that’s always drawn me to movies, and Heretic does and exceptional job of this via a tightly wound horror-thriller that’s clearly struck a chord with audiences.
Let’s explore a couple other great examples of faith and how they’re written so well.
- Silence: Martin Scorsese is no stranger to faith in his films, but Silence just about takes the cake. Centered around Jesuit missionaries crucified for their mission over seas, this is a very real historical parallel to the events of Heretic. Although Scorsese is openly Catholic he doesn’t make a claim for one side or the other, but similarly portrays the lengths a person of faith will endure torture to spread their beliefs.
- The Exorcist: As an all-time great horror film, it’s sometimes overlooked that The Exorcist is ultimately about faith. While yes of course the central story revolves around Regan and her family (and, uh, possession), we slowly shift focus to Father Karras, who is questioning his faith throughout the movie after the death of his mother. His ultimate sacrifice to jump out the window and save Regan is more powerful because of the faith he has it will work.
- First Reformed: this movie is so good for so many reasons, and it’s a lot to unpack. At it’s most trimmed down it’s the story of a pastor questioning and losing his faith because no one will listen to him about his anxieties pertaining to climate change, and the lengths he goes to draw attention to them. I’ll let the ending speak for itself and its relationship to faith.
- The Young Pope: This show is so wild and I wish more people talked about it! Jude Law as the titular Young Pope is constantly challenging faith with his rock star Pope energy, and it takes us to crazy lengths where we just don’t know what is real and what isn’t in the context of this world.
Well worth a faithful watch.
Author: Grant Vance
This article comes from No Film School and can be read on the original site.