On the surface, Immaculate looks like just another religious horror, weighed down by familiar theology-based frights and the same old Catholic iconography we’ve grown accustomed to. But there are a couple of reasons why it turns out to be something more provocative. First, it stars the red-hot Sydney Sweeney. Madame Web aside, she’s been on fire lately with high-profile projects, including the runaway success of steamy rom-com Anyone But You. Sweeney, who is beginning to show her power as a producer, doesn’t exactly fit the mold of an actress who would sign on to this worn-out subgenre if it wasn’t attempting to do something new. And in that, Immaculate succeeds even a few tired tropes remain.
Immaculate is part of a growing breed of horror movies intertwined with the current debate over female bodily autonomy. There’s fertile ground there to use body horror and other aspects to capture the religious zealotry of those who deem themselves the arbiter of what pregnant women are allowed to do and who they are allowed to be. Screenwriter Andrew Lobel’s screenplay and director Michael Mohan take a hot-button issue, throw in some religious fanaticism, some funky Catholic science, a dash of body horror, and no small amount of sensuality to create a tense, foreboding atmosphere that Sweeney takes advantage of for all it’s worth.
In an understated and powerful performance, Sweeney plays novitiate Sister Cecilia, a young woman who, after the miraculous survival of a near-fatal tragedy, has decided to take her vows at an Italian convent. Cecilia is young, gorgeous, and not the typical woman one expects to become a nun. We sense this early on when she is interrogated by two customs police officers, one off whom remarks that it’s such a waste to see someone so pretty taking the vow of chastity. Cecilia’s youth remains an issue even after she arrives. The convent is mostly a home for aging, dementia-stricken nuns to live out their final days. The younger women serve their needs, or just indulge their hallucinations. But it leaves plenty of room for Cecilia to get freaked out by odd ramblings, shadowy robed figures, disturbing structures, a nail from Jesus’ crucifixion, and a creepy experience at confession.
But the scariest part is the Mean Girls vibe running through this home for twisted sisters. Being young and pretty has made Cecilia the enemy for a few of the other nuns. There’s a Suspiria-like climate throughout, and Mohan uses similar lighting and sound to invoke the style of classic giallo films. An interesting point is how quickly one’s faith can be turned against them. Cecilia becomes fast friends with the rebellious Sister Gwen (Benedetta Porcaroli), both women with tragedy in their pasts but too full of life for a place such as this. They run thick as thieves, up until Cecilia grows sick, only to learn that her illness is actually a pregnancy, one of immaculate conception as she’s never been with a man.
Instantly, the tables are turned on Cecilia. Gwen grows suspicious, some of the others have murderous intentions for her. But in montage we see Cecilia treated like a saint by Mother Superior (Dora Romano) and Father Sal (Alvaro Morte), who understand the power of such a miraculous birth, one believed to be that of Jesus Christ himself. The pregnancy comes with some grotesque side effects, though, including an absolutely horrific vomiting scene. There’s no shortage of gory visuals as the second act kicks in, but the plotting is murky and we lose a lot of the character work from the introduction. Cecilia becomes less of a person than a walking, bloated plot point with little emotion. Although, if I’m completely honest, it’s possible that this was the objective. To the fanatics at the convent, Cecilia’s sole purpose is to deliver the child at any and all cost, up to and including at the expense of her own life. To them, she isn’t really a person anymore.
While the mood is effectively claustrophobic, Immaculate is best as a pro-Roe v Wade horror pushed to the extreme. Seen in that context, it makes the final act even better as Cecilia engages in a bloody fight to secure her independence, using whatever religious artifacts she can find as weapons. Continuing to push past the breaking point, the film culminates in a final act of brutal defiance that is a statement sure to piss off a large segment of the country. I loved every bit of it and can’t wait for the loud, angry discourse over it. Immaculate undeniably draws inspiration from some iconic pregnancy horrors, but it stakes its own ground with an unpredictable finale that dares to be bold when being safe would’ve been so much easier.
Immaculate opens in theaters on March 22nd.
