It’s rare for a film to feel both deeply personal and universally provocative, yet Heretic, the latest from Scott Beck and Bryan Woods, walks that line with startling precision. At its core, it is less a traditional horror film and more an intricate psychological thriller, a story about the limits of faith and the terrifying consequences of confronting doubt. From its opening moments, the film establishes an atmosphere of tension and unease, yet it’s not content to stop there. It demands introspection, forcing its audience to grapple with the uncomfortable questions it raises about belief, morality, and human fragility.
Set against the backdrop of an unassuming small town, Heretic begins with two Mormon missionaries, Sister Barnes (Sophie Thatcher) and Sister Paxton (Chloe East), knocking on doors in search of potential converts. Their mission, guided by youthful optimism and unwavering faith, leads them to the home of Mr. Reed (Hugh Grant), a man who appears at first glance to be the picture of hospitality. Inviting them in under the pretense of offering a warm meal and theological discussion, Reed quickly reveals himself to be far more sinister than his affable demeanor suggests. What unfolds is a tense battle of wits and wills, as Reed’s probing questions and manipulative tactics begin to unravel the missionaries’ convictions.
The premise, while deceptively simple, is elevated by a script that expertly balances suspense and introspection. Beck and Woods have crafted a story that thrives on ambiguity, allowing the audience to interpret Reed’s motives and the missionaries’ responses in myriad ways.
Is Reed a nihilist bent on dismantling faith wherever he finds it? Or is he, in his own warped way, testing the strength of their beliefs? The film never offers a definitive answer, and that lack of clarity is one of its greatest strengths.
Hugh Grant’s performance as Mr. Reed is nothing short of revelatory. Known for his work in romantic comedies, Grant takes a sharp turn here, channeling his trademark charm into something far darker.
Reed is magnetic, a character who can disarm with a smile while simultaneously setting your nerves on edge. His monologues, laced with biting wit and unsettling insight, are as captivating as they are disturbing. Yet for all his menace, there’s a complexity to Reed that keeps him from being a one-dimensional villain. He is at once terrifying and pitiable, a man whose own struggles with belief have driven him to the brink of madness.
Sophie Thatcher and Chloe East hold their own against Grant’s towering performance, delivering nuanced portrayals of faith under siege. Thatcher’s Sister Barnes exudes quiet strength, her resolve providing a counterpoint to the escalating chaos around her. East’s Sister Paxton, by contrast, is more vulnerable, her fear and uncertainty giving the film its emotional core. Together, they form a compelling duo, their bond tested and ultimately strengthened by the horrors they endure.
Visually, Heretic is a masterclass in atmospheric filmmaking. Cinematographer Chung-hoon Chung, known for his work on The Handmaiden and Oldboy, creates a world that feels both grounded and otherworldly.
Reed’s home, with its dimly lit corridors and labyrinthine layout, becomes a character in its own right, its oppressive presence heightening the sense of dread. The film’s use of light and shadow is particularly effective, creating a visual language that mirrors the characters’ inner turmoil.
The sound design and score further amplify the tension, with eerie silences punctuated by sharp crescendos that keep the audience on edge. Every creak of the floorboards and rustle of fabric is amplified, drawing viewers deeper into the characters’ isolation and fear.
While Heretic boasts several strengths, it is not without its shortcomings.
The third act, in particular, struggles to maintain the momentum built in the film’s earlier scenes. As the narrative shifts from psychological tension to more overt horror, some of the film’s nuance is lost.
The climactic moments, while undeniably visceral, lack the intellectual heft of the preceding acts, relying more on shock value than the thought-provoking dialogue that defines the first half.
Yet even in its weaker moments, Heretic remains compelling. Its exploration of faith and doubt is unflinching, refusing to offer easy answers or tidy resolutions. The film’s horror lies not in its moments of violence but in its ability to tap into the existential fears that underpin human existence. What do we believe, and why? How do we cope when those beliefs are challenged? These are the questions that linger long after the credits roll.
Hugh Grant’s turn as Mr. Reed is undoubtedly the film’s centerpiece, but it is the interplay between his character and the two missionaries that gives Heretic its emotional weight.
Thatcher and East imbue their roles with a humanity that makes their struggles feel real and immediate, grounding the film’s more abstract themes in relatable experiences. Their performances, coupled with Grant’s magnetic presence, create a dynamic that is as engaging as it is unsettling.
In many ways, Heretic feels like a film at odds with itself. Its ambitions are grand, its themes complex, yet its execution occasionally falters under the weight of its own ideas. The result is a film that is as frustrating as it is fascinating, a work that challenges and provokes even as it stumbles.
Despite its imperfections, Heretic is a film worth experiencing. It is a rare example of genre filmmaking that dares to tackle big questions without sacrificing its ability to entertain. For those willing to engage with its ideas—and to confront their own beliefs in the process—it offers a journey that is as rewarding as it is unsettling.
Whether it ultimately succeeds or fails is a matter of perspective, much like the questions it poses. For some, it will be a revelation, a bold and thought-provoking exploration of faith and fear. For others, it may feel like an overreaching experiment, a film that bites off more than it can chew. But perhaps that’s the point.
Heretic is not a film that seeks to provide answers; it is a film that demands reflection. And in that sense, it succeeds in ways that few films dare to attempt.
As the credits rolled, I found myself grappling with the same questions the characters faced: What do I believe? Why do I believe it? And what happens if those beliefs are challenged? In the end, Heretic is less about the answers and more about the journey, a film that lingers in the mind long after the screen goes dark.