Hugh Grant proclaims near the beginning of A24’s “Heretic” that there is only one true religion, and it isn’t Islam, Christianity, or Judaism. By the end, he does reveal his pick, though your mileage may vary. Some viewers might have an epiphany; some will shrug with indifference. Whatever the response, the journey to that point is compelling—a miracle because “Heretic,” despite its marketing, is primarily a drama of ideas—at least in intent. The writer-director duo Scott Beck and Bryan Woods have cleverly trojan-horsed an extended treatise on religion into a horror-thriller. Yes, there are jump scares. But “Heretic” is to be commended for the fact that for a mass-market wide release, it takes place in a few simple rooms and fills its 110 mins with three actors just talking with one another.
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It is a measure of praise for its dramatic construction and quality of dialog that, with a few reasonable tweaks, “Heretic” could easily be turned into a play. Among other stage-bound attributes, “Heretic” also takes place in near real-time, over a single evening, save for an amusing prolog set earlier in the day where Sisters Paxton (Chloe East) and Barnes (Sophie Thatcher) discuss condom sizes, anal porn, and, of course, God. Paxton and Barnes are missionaries of the Mormon Church (Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints). On his invitation, they visit Mr. Reed (Grant) in his suburban home to educate him about Mormonism and potentially convert him. Only he turns the tables on them, asking several pointed questions about inconsistencies in their religion. A violent gale raging outside means the argumentative trio is locked in Reed’s house with nowhere else to go.
Reed notes that Joseph Smith, the writer of the original “Book Of Mormon,” married several underage women and that the Mormon Church renounced polygamy in 1890 only when it became politically untenable. The women are forced to admit that the sudden “revelation from Jesus” that the president of the church cited as the reason—was “sketch.” The trio’s discursive discussion also employs a wide variety of metaphors, including comparing different religions to fast food chains, editions of Monopoly, and pop songs—with Radiohead and Lana Del Ray catching strays for plagiarism. The dynamics are initially imbalanced, with Grant appearing imperious, all-knowing, and professorial and the women meekly swallowing his rapier-sharp jabs. It is only when he outright accuses them of being propagandists that the women begin to fight back, with Thatcher taking the lead.
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While Thatcher and East initially appear indistinguishable and difficult to tell apart in their views and beliefs, it is a credit to the writing and the performances that they soon emerge as distinct voices, and the conversation transforms from being two-sided to three-dimensional. The back-and-forth volley of ideas remains engrossing, though our ability to be genuinely provoked or appalled by blasphemy or sacrilege has been significantly diminished if not extinguished. Especially in a world where the “Southpark” musical “The Book of Mormon” is a runaway popular success, a fact actually mentioned in the film. Yours truly is a militant atheist and did not find the conversations to be revelatory or shocking, but they might be for some viewers, depending on their disposition. What’s more important is that they remain interesting and affect the characters even if the viewer is unmoved.
The movie does jump down several literal rabbit holes, and none of them will be discussed here, but suffice it to say the trailer is already rather spoiler-y and that those looking for their genre fix will eventually get their fill. It is hard not to feel a minor disappointment when the cheap thrills arrive, as the film’s intelligence before those scenes is undeniable. The scares are understandably a concession to the paying public who bought a ticket to watch a horror picture, and they might find all the verbose chattiness trying rather than enlightening. Several improbabilities do crop up, as is inevitable in any plot trying to surprise you. Also, adherence to tropes makes several developments predictable. The conservation of detail principle, highlighted best by Chekov’s gun, is scrupulously and unimaginatively adhered to. Only the likes of Michael Haneke will show you a knife early on in “Funny Games,” only to shatter your assumptions later—and your soul, too, for good measure. 
With a minimalist production, an enormous burden is placed on the actors to engage audiences, and all three performers come through. Thatcher and East play steely young women who show their mettle under adversity. Grant meanwhile carries the picture with a magnificent star-turn, making short work of reams of dialog and articulating intricate, involved, hair-splitting ideas with naturalness and ease, as if they were extemporaneously springing out of his mind. With his dulcet tones and calm delivery, he makes for the politest, poshest, charmingest creep you can imagine. He doesn’t shortchange you on the menace and guile but remains enticingly avuncular throughout.
“Heretic” is poised to be a comeback for Beck and Woods after their last two directorial ventures, “Haunt” and “65,” did not quite reach the mega-success of their screenwriting breakout “The Quiet Place.” “Heretic” shows progression and confidence, especially in its reliance on wall-to-wall dialog and successfully staging a film in near real-time. It is not an easy feat to pull off and seldom attempted for that reason. “Heretic” will be a different kind of horror film than the monthly gorefests that Hollywood pumps out like clockwork. Audiences that give it a chance will be rewarded with something halfway intriguing and novel. [B]
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