'Heretic' review: Hugh Grant and horror are a match made in heaven (or hell)
What would happen if any of Hugh Grant's famed rom-com characters — think William from Notting Hill or the prime minister from Love Actually — trapped you in a house of horrors? That's not too far off from what you'll get in Heretic, the latest horror offering from writer-director duo Scott Beck and Bryan Woods (A Quiet Place, 65).
Yes, Grant has leaned further into villain archetypes in the past few years, from Paddington 2's egotistical Phoenix Buchanan to Dungeons & Dragons: Honor Among Thieves' roguish Forge. But no film has weaponized his talents to as frightening an extent as Heretic. Here, you'll witness Grant both as you've never seen him before (downright terrifying!) and exactly as you've seen him before (charming with a side of self-deprecation). The combination is downright bone-chilling, with Grant's performance providing nonstop terror even as Heretic's theological frights remain fairly surface level.
What's Heretic about?
Grant plays Mr. Reed, a seemingly friendly man who opens his door to Mormon missionaries Sister Paxton (The Fabelmans' Chloe East) and Sister Barnes (Yellowjackets' Sophie Thatcher). The pair have already had a rough day of lugging their bikes up and down steep stairs, getting made fun of by local teenage girls, and weathering the beginnings of a gnarly rainstorm. After all that, Mr. Reed's genuine interest in the Mormon Church is just the pick-me-up they need. And while mission rules forbid them from being alone with him without a woman present, he insists that his shy wife is just in the kitchen whipping up a marvelous blueberry pie. That's all the confirmation Paxton and Barnes need to enter his home and start teaching him about their faith.
Once inside, though, the red flags start piling up. Turns out Mr. Reed knows quite a bit about Mormonism. Look no further than his heavily marked-up copy of the Book of Mormon. ("More like Mr. Read," Paxton jokes, desperate to land her first baptism.) Then there are his pointed probes about Mormon founder Joseph Smith and polygamy. At first glance, these could just be mistaken for run-of-the-mill religious skepticism. But when coupled with personal questions about the death of Barnes' father, it's clear something more sinister is afoot. From here, all Heretic needs is one push — in this case, the reveal that "Mrs. Reed" is nothing more than a blueberry-scented lie — to send Paxton and Barnes hurtling into hell.
"Hell" of course being the back section of Mr. Reed's house, which includes a chapel he built himself, as well as two staircases — one marked "belief," the other "disbelief" — leading down into the darkness. These staircases become the focal point for a religious battle of wits, as Mr. Reed tests the Sisters' faith to its limit.
Heretic's religious horror is not the scariest thing about it.
Most of this battle of wits plays out in conversation, with Heretic quickly cementing itself as the chattiest horror movie of the year. (While introducing Heretic at this year's Fantastic Fest, Beck and Woods said they created it as the inverse to A Quiet Place, which created scares without any dialogue.) As Mr. Reed lures Paxton and Barnes deeper into his web, each conversational turn and cutting question become cause for more and more dread. Yet that's less due to the actual content of the conversations, and more about Beck and Woods' claustrophobic direction of this three-hander. Tight close-ups on Mr. Reed, Paxton, and Barnes' faces keep us locked into their discussion, while the single-location setting reminds us that there is no escape.
Ostensibly, the theological debate that this trio engages in is meant to be the meat of Heretic's horror, as Paxton and Barnes reckon with their relationship to God in a time of crisis. But the film's religious discourse is mostly skin-deep — albeit fun.
Take, for example, a show-stopping monologue from Grant, delivered like a sermon from his own pulpit, about the iterative connections between everything from religion to Monopoly to Lana Del Rey. (A Jar Jar Binks impression makes its way in there too, and Grant makes a delightful meal of it, as he does with everything else in the film.) The actual messaging about religion being nothing more than an elaborate marketing farce isn't particularly groundbreaking — you could just as easily find these ideas on any atheist message board. It's the way Grant delivers it, with all the panache of a smarmy debate bro, that really sets your teeth on edge.
That's because Heretic mines its greatest scares not from its questions about religion, but from the age-old truth that it's just really terrifying to be a woman alone with a strange man. Especially when that strange man combines the mannerisms of rom-com Hugh Grant with the trap-loving sensibilities of Saw's John Kramer.
Hugh Grant in Heretic is some of the best horror casting in recent memory.
The root of Heretic's true horror begins with Grant's performance. Here, the actor is fully in what'd we consider to be his rom-com mode, employing the tricks he uses in his romantic roles. Mr. Reed is all affable grins and shrugs, politely tripping over his words, then mugging apologetically when he mixes up names or asks an uncomfortable question. He seems almost sorry to be asking Barnes and Paxton to head into his creepy basement, when in reality he's in total control.
That knowing lack of acknowledgment of his control carries over into Beck and Woods' script. While some of Heretic's religious musings can feel overwritten, Mr. Reed's social manipulation of the Sisters is spot-on. He claims, time and time again, that he isn't pressuring them — never mind the fact that he's locked them in his house. He accuses Barnes and Paxton of getting too worked-up, discounting their very valid fears about him. Who can stay calm when a man is, once again, coercing them into his basement?
East and Thatcher play Paxton and Barnes' reactions perfectly, with the pair attempting to defuse the situation without upsetting Mr. Reed. Their discomfort comes through at first in small ways. Thatcher's firmer Barnes refuses a drink from Mr. Reed, while East's sweet, more unsure Paxton responds to most of his questions through awkward giggles. But as the cracks in Mr. Reed's façade begin to show, the panic becomes ever clearer on the Sisters' faces, even as they try to remain polite. Repeated questions to meet Mrs. Reed become shorthand for terror. Paxton and Barnes invent excuses to try to extricate themselves. Later, they dull down their intelligence and beliefs in an attempt to appeal to what they think Mr. Reed wants from them — Paxton even thanks him as she begins her descent downstairs. It's a stomach-churning, yet all-too relatable moment of panicked nicety in a film full of them. How do you push away a man who won't allow you to remove yourself from his vicinity? A man who wants to use his religious beliefs to control and mold you to his will — again, sound familiar?
These scenes of Paxton and Barnes diminishing themselves make the moments when they fight back all the sweeter. They choose to meet Mr. Reed on his own intellectual turf, challenging him on his clearly well-rehearsed points. And whether or not you agree with Mr. Reed's religious beliefs or the Sisters', each rebuttal of theirs hits hard by virtue of them facing down their captor.
Heretic's dialogue — no matter how high school debate-y it threatens to get — is delivered with such malevolent fun by Grant and such ferocity by East and Thatcher that by the time the film falls into more traditional slasher mode, it's a shame to part with these conversations. Frightening reveals and boatloads of religious and occult iconography (much of it delivered in impressively crafted statues and images throughout Mr. Reed's house) certainly get the blood pumping. But they're something you could see in any religious horror movie. What really sets Heretic apart is Grant, the absolute monster of a man he plays, and just how awfully familiar that man is.