From the 1990s through the 2000s, Hugh Grant had a magnificent run as an exceedingly charming and decent leading man in films such as “Four Weddings and a Funeral,” “Notting Hill” and “Love, Actually," though he occasionally played a real bounder, as in “Bridget Jones’s Diary.” In recent years, Grant has reveled in playing a series of scoundrels in movies such as “Paddington 2,” “The Gentlemen” and “Operation Fortune: Ruse de Guerre,” as well as the HBO miniseries “The Undoing.”
As an erudite but quite deranged sociopath in the elevated religious horror film “The Heretic,” Grant is chillingly effective as a reptilian man who is oozing with such creepy curiosity about certain young women that he could be Eat-Your-Face-Book friends with Hannibal Lecter. Grant's performance and the strong work by young Chloe East and Sophie Thatcher are the highlights of this labyrinthine and at times gruesome set piece from the talented writing-directing duo of Scott Beck and Bryan Woods, who created the story for and co-wrote the screenplay for the masterful “A Quiet Place.”
For the first 45 minutes or so of this well-filmed and creatively staged production, “The Heretic” flashes the potential to be one of the most memorably insane horror films of the year; unfortunately, it all comes crashing down via some increasingly outrageous, credibility-smashing twists and turns, and a disappointing reliance on well-worn horror movie tropes in the stretch run.
Set in rural Colorado (but filmed in Vancouver), “The Heretic” does a fine job of introducing us to the smart and likable Sisters Paxton (Chloe East from “The Fablemans”) and Barnes (Sophie Thatcher, best known for playing young Natalie on Showtime’s “Yellowjackets”). In between door-knocking recruitment missions for the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, aka the Mormons, these 20ish young women talk in naïve terms about condoms and “porno-nography,” and endure the taunts of selfie-taking teenagers who humiliate Sister Paxton for wearing “magic underwear.” Still, as out of place as they feel in today’s world, the sisters are strong of faith and determined to win over anyone who has indicated even the mildest of interest in their religion.
Which brings them to the front door of a hilltop home tucked deep into the woods, with a steady rain beating down and night about to fall. Here they are greeted by Grant’s Mr. Reed, who looks and sounds like a popular college professor and conveys a sense of warmth, albeit with an immediately unnerving layer of eccentricity. Mr. Reed invites the sisters into his home, and though they balk at first because Mormon women can’t be alone with a man, he tells them not to worry: His wife is home and in fact she’s making her famous blueberry pie, and wouldn’t they like to come in out of the rain and have a slice while they discuss matters of faith?
Mr. Reed’s home is something else. (The cinematography by Chung-Hoon Chung and the production design by Philip Messina contribute greatly to building tension and the sense that there’s far more to this place than initially meets the eye.) There’s only a small, porthole-type window in the living room, and when Mr. Reed casually mentions there’s metal in the walls and ceilings, well, that’s just the first indication something isn’t right. (A leaky ceiling in horror movies is never a good sign either.)
Sisters Barnes and Paxton are intent on sticking to their scripted pitch, but Mr. Reed quickly establishes himself as something of a religious scholar — one who makes his points through the use of board games, the playing of “The Air That I Breathe” by the Hollies on his stereo and an imitation of Jar-Jar Binks, I kid you not. Even as the oily Mr. Reed keeps assuring the women they can leave any time, it’s obvious that’s not the case, and that they’re in real danger, and that this man is out of his blueberry pie-loving mind.
With elements of films such as “Misery,” “Panic Room” and the aforementioned “The Silence of the Lambs” at play, “The Heretic” alternates between Mr. Reed spouting complex and convoluted religious theories that make the “Pepe Silvia” rant in “It’s Always Sunny in Philadelphia” sound like a work of quiet reason, and blood-spattered jump scares.
Sister Barnes is more sophisticated and worldly than Sister Paxton, and she initially takes the lead in trying to outwit, outlast and outplay their captor, though Sister Paxton displays some resiliency as well in the latter going. Through it all, Hugh Grant commits fully to the madness of Mr. Reed, even when the wheels fly off in the final act and the film falls back on all too familiar horror movie clichés.
