Review: Parish the thought: Papal thriller Conclave loses the faith of its fun B-movie convictions | Canada Voices

Conclave

Directed by Edward Berger

Written by Peter Straughan, based on the novel by Robert Harris

Starring Ralph Fiennes, Stanley Tucci and John Lithgow

Classification PG; 120 minutes

Opens in theatres Oct. 25

Send up the white smoke and slap on your favourite high-thread-count cassock – the world has a new papal thriller in Conclave.

Joining a surprisingly strong sacramental subgenre that includes The Two Popes, The Young Pope, and, um, The Pope’s Exorcist (can’t have a Heaven without a Hell), the new holier-than-thou drama starring Ralph Fiennes makes a decent enough argument that more filmmakers should say Vati-can rather than Vati-can’t. And if you think this review is already cheesy enough to stink up pews filled with pecorino romano, then prepare yourself for director Edward Berger’s actual film, which is like a mass made entirely of mascarpone. Delicious, if not exactly good for you in molto grande quantities.

Adapting Robert Harris’s bestselling novel, Berger’s film is a sometimes zippy, frequently ridiculous drama chronicling the tense election of a new pope following the death of the preceding pontiff. Heading the conclave is Cardinal Lawrence (Fiennes), a good man given a thankless job and surrounded by some of the most power-hungry backstabbers in the world.

On the side of angels is American Cardinal Bellini (Stanley Tucci), easily the most progressive man to ever enter the Church – to an almost comical degree – and thus the long shot for the top job. Opposing him with devilish glee is Italian Cardinal Tedesco (Sergio Castellitto), an arch-conservative who wants to set Catholicism back decades, if not centuries. And in-between is the shady Cardinal Tremblay who, given that he’s played by an eyebrow-wiggling John Lithgow, of course some sort of foul plan in mind.

As agendas unfold and nerves fray – including those of Sister Agnes (Isabella Rossellini, in a largely thankless role that unintentionally echoes the disdain that the Church’s leaders have for their nuns) – Lawrence must navigate shifting realities, long-buried secrets, and a late-film twist that will have audiences alternately shaking their heads or Googling which streaming service currently has the rights to the classic film [redacted].

It is all exceptionally dishy, B-movie silliness that Berger constantly and annoyingly tries to elevate into prestige-minded drama, muddying everyone’s fun along the way. As with the director’s 2022 remake of All Quiet on the Western Front, Berger constantly looks to his collaborator, the composer Hauschka, to unnecessarily beef the drama up to Hans Zimmer-like levels of intensity. The filmmaker’s lack of faith in the cheap but potent power of his source material would make the most true-blue believer turn agnostic.

Fiennes, though, seems to understand the whole assignment best, matching the teeth-gnashing of Lithgow with the steely confidence of a star who knows that he has won his audience over from the film’s very first frame. In another, more hopeful era, Fiennes might have snagged his very first Emmy Award for his work here, given how close Conclave feels to being one helluva HBO Sunday night movie. Let us pray.