Sister Barnes and Sister Paxton are on a mission.
Literally.
As members of the Mormon church, they’ve been sent out as missionaries to proselytize their faith to anyone who will listen.
Many of the people they encounter aren’t interested, averting their gaze and hurrying past when the young women try to start a conversation. But being ignored is better than the bullies who mock them for their modest dress and peculiar ways.
“People think we’re weird,” laments naïve, fresh-faced Sister Paxton.
The more guarded Sister Barnes replies, “Who cares what people think?”
So, they press onward, working down a list of names—folks who had indicated at one time or another that they might be interested in learning more about Mormonism.
Still, no takers.
By the end of the day, there’s only one name left on their list: Mr. Reed. They travel to Mr. Reed’s rural home, put on their best faces, and knock on his door. To their surprise, Mr. Reed not only answers the door, but seems interested in what the young women have to offer. He welcomes them into his home.
Mr. Reed is eager to talk about Mormonism. He is fascinated by religious faith. He’s studied theology. He even owns a copy of the Book of Mormon. Barnes and Paxton are thrilled to have found someone so receptive to their message.
And then Mr. Reed starts asking questions. Innocent enough at first, but things soon take an uncomfortable turn. There seems to be something … a bit off about this bespectacled, would-be theologian. When Mr. Reed steps out of the room, disappearing down a dark and winding hallway, Barnes and Paxton decide that this would be a good time to make their exit.
Except … they can’t.
The front door is locked. Try as they might, they are unable to open it. As the setting sun is swallowed up by an encroaching snowstorm, the young women realize that the only way out is through the house. And Mr. Reed.
Which is exactly what Mr. Reed wants. You see, he’s convinced that he’s discovered, as he describes it, the “one, true religion.” He wants Sister Barnes and Sister Paxton to see what he sees, believe what he believes.
He plans to prove to them that he’s right—by whatever horrific means necessary.
Barnes and Paxton have a genuine friendship. After Paxton is publicly humiliated, Barnes encourages her and lifts her spirits. They endure much worse than ridicule at the hands of Mr. Reed, but they continue to look out for one another amidst their dire circumstances.
Elsewhere, a woman offers her coat to a freezing woman.
Barnes and Paxton are serving as missionaries for the Mormon church. They hand out pamphlets. They discuss baptizing converts. Barnes says she’s converted “eight or nine people.” She reads from the Book of Mormon. Joseph Smith, the founder of Mormonism, is discussed, as is the Mormon teaching of living prophets. The titles “Elder” and “Sister” are used in the Mormon context.
And that, dear reader, is pretty much where the connections to Mormon-specific theology conclude. It soon becomes clear that Mormonism is simply an on-ramp to a larger critique. All religions find themselves in the crosshairs here, particularly Christianity.
To summarize the principal theological claim made in the movie, Mr. Reed believes that all religions are simply iterations of other faiths that predated them. Judaism, Christianity, Islam, Mormonism—and every other belief system between and beyond—are nothing but refinements of a time-tested methodology, a “system of control.” Mr. Reed claims that while all religions claim to be true, they don’t hold up under scrutiny. (What that “scrutiny” is, exactly, is left unexplained.)
A quick, clarifying note: While the film may present Christianity and Mormonism as slight variations of the same theological beliefs, that is simply not true. Despite similar trappings with certain denominations, there are significant theological differences that cannot be ignored or overlooked.
Mr. Reed questions the belief that God’s revelation can be received through men and asks, “What might it mean if [your religion] were a lie?” He glibly claims that, hundreds of years from now, people will worship Jar Jar Binks (of Star Wars infamy) as a messianic figure.
The young missionaries do try to push back against Mr. Reed’s esoteric barrage (particularly Barnes), but the movie doesn’t give them much space to do so.
Barnes and Paxton are introduced to a woman whom Mr. Reed calls a “living prophet of God.” He claims she will die and be resurrected—and he wants the young women to witness the “miracle.” The woman’s death and resurrection seem to take place as promised.
“I can show you God, if you’re willing to die,” Mr. Reed tells them. Still, Barnes and Paxton are skeptical about his claims—and, as it turns out, rightly so. Yet, later, someone does come back from the dead (albeit briefly).
An injured man mockingly asks a woman to pray for him. The woman cites Herb Benson’s “Great Prayer Experiment” and says that prayer doesn’t work—but that she still thinks it’s a beautiful sentiment to pray for others.
One of the rooms in Mr. Reed’s house contains several religious items, including an altar, pews, and images and icons from various faiths, including Christianity. We see an illustration of hell from Dante’s Inferno. The Daoist concept of the “butterfly dream” is discussed and tied to simulation theory (the hypothesis that everything we experience is just part of an advanced computer simulation, à la The Matrix). Another room houses occult trinkets, symbols and a skull.
Mr. Reed asks if Barnes’ late father has tried to communicate with her from the afterlife. He equates missionaries to salespeople. A reference is made to “drinking the Kool-Aid,” a phrase that gained prominence following the 1978 Jonestown massacre. A person says that, when she dies, she wants to come back as a butterfly. A rendition of “Knocking on Heaven’s Door” plays over the film’s credits. Someone reflects on the beauty of faith.
The film opens with a prolonged conversation about condoms and sex. Paxton awkwardly tries to explain how a pornographic video that she watched made her grateful for her Mormon faith.
The term “magic underwear” is used throughout the film, referring to the temple garments worn by some members of Mormonism. A group of bullies pull Paxton’s pants down to see this “magic underwear.”
Mr. Reed asks Barnes and Paxton blunt questions about polygamy and references Joseph Smith’s participation in the practice. Barnes responds by saying that polygamy was a “spiritual mission” at the time but is no longer necessary. After he traps Barnes and Paxton in his house, Mr. Reed talks about “how this must look”—that is, an older man keeping two young women in his home. Later, he seems to come on to a woman after tormenting her.
We hear that female Mormon missionaries are not supposed to enter anyone’s home unless there is a woman present. Someone has a scar on her arm which is eventually revealed to be from a contraceptive implant.
Heretic is not a slasher movie; nor is it a Saw-like, trap-house gore-fest. Much of the film relies on a suspenseful menace as Barnes and Paxton slowly realize their peril and try to find a way to escape.
Instead, psychological torture is Mr. Reed’s game, but it is no less unsettling to witness. Throughout the movie, Mr. Reed toys with the young women’s perceptions of reality and forces them to participate in his own twisted human experiment.
That said, when physical violence bursts onto the screen, it is bloody and disturbing. Mr. Reed slashes a woman’s throat with a knife—we watch as she bleeds and dies. He cuts into the same woman’s arm, digging around in her bicep before finding what he’s looking for.
Barnes wonders how Mr. Reed is “going to make killing us our idea.” She and Paxton scream for help. Someone contorts her body painfully before consuming a poisoned pie. Other women are imprisoned in small cages, abused, malnourished and covered with lesions.
We see a corpse lying in a pool of water. A person loses a finger to a pair of hedge clippers. Someone is stabbed in the neck. Another receives a knife to the stomach. One person is killed when struck by a wooden beam full of nails.
We hear two uses each of “h—” and “d–mnit.” Two substitutes for the f-word are used, “effin’” and “freaking.” One exasperated character says, “B-lls.”
None.
Barnes father died from amyotrophic lateral sclerosis (ALS). She herself nearly died in the past when she unknowingly ate food contaminated with E. coli. Barnes and Paxton lie about being called back to their church in an attempt to convince Mr. Reed to let them go.
There is a reference to the musical The Book of Mormon by South Park creators Trey Parker and Matt Stone.
In many ways, Heretic is a compelling and well-crafted horror film that accomplishes what it sets out to do. The direction, cinematography, and sound are precise and unnerving. The writing is sharp. And the acting is impressive—Sophie Thatcher and Chloe East deliver pitch-perfect performances, and Hugh Grant’s turn as the amicably sinister Mr. Reed is chilling.
But if the filmmakers were hoping to deliver a thought-provoking treatise on religion and belief, I can’t say they succeeded.
Make no mistake: Some of the questions posed in this film have merit and, I would argue, should be considered by Christians. But the issue I took with Heretic’s presentation was the insinuation that some of Mr. Reed’s claims are akin to “checkmate arguments”— that there are no good answers to the questions he poses.
And that is laughably untrue.
Let me give you an example relevant to a Christian perspective. Mr. Reed asserts that Jesus Christ is simply a mashup of other “gods” who came before Him—such as Horus, Mithras and Krishna. This is very similar to an old argument from the “Christ myth theory,” a poorly evidenced fringe hypothesis widely rejected by both Christian and secular scholars for more than 200 years. And yet, in the film, this “revelation” is presented as something new and shocking.
That’s just one of the many claims that Mr. Reed makes as he lays out his case to Sister Barnes and Sister Paxton. (And, by extension, the viewer.)
Now, you may be thinking, But he’s the villain! Why would anyone put stock in what he says?
First, the movie gives him the most time to make his argument, and in admittedly compelling (though flawed) fashion. Second, Mr. Reed serves as an embodiment of the problem of evil. Why would God allow people like him, vile and sadistic, to exist and hurt innocent people in the first place?
Heretic seems perfectly happy to raise these objections about God’s existence while being unwilling or unable to present any oppositional evidence—be it causal, moral, cosmological or otherwise. While the film’s arguments against the belief in God lack true substance, I worry that some viewers may be swept away by its pseudo-philosophical deluge if they’re unprepared for it.
Packed within its suspenseful tale of psychological horror, the movie presents some tough questions that are worth considering. Just don’t wait up for any serious answers. As befitting its title, Heretic’s theological assertions swiftly stray into faulty and faithless territory.
Bret loves a good story—be it a movie, show, or video game—and enjoys geeking out about things like plot and story structure. He has a blast reading and writing fiction and has penned several short stories and screenplays. He and his wife love to kayak the many beautiful Colorado lakes with their dog.
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