movies

What’s such a great surprise, and such a great pleasure, is just how talky Heretic is, the first half akin to watching a juicy stage play, reminiscent of Deathtrap or Sleuth, a sneaky game of psychological cat-and-mouse that’s far more tense because of how withheld the more in-your-face horror is. Grant’s speechifying, crafted by A Quiet Place duo Scott Beck and Bryan Woods, is smug, sure, but also delicious in its provocations, striking at hypocrisies and inconsistencies within religion, like an anti-preacher delivering a hateful sermon. It’s then rather thrilling to see the missionaries gain the strength to strike back, a captivating game of high-stakes tennis that’s far more satisfying than any action sequence I’ve seen this year. Grant tears into it with such ebullient vigour that it feels as if he’s been waiting for something like this for decades, a performance of total freedom and what seems like genuinely giddy pleasure. He gives us flashes of the same disarming charm we associate him with, but here it’s used as part of his weaponry as he tries to cajole his opponents into playing his sadistic game. Disappointingly, the ultimate nature of the game isn’t quite as well-figured out and as the film enters full genre territory, as commanding words get sidelined by unconvincing actions, Heretic stretches our belief.