Aubrey Malone
Conclave (2024) A pope has died. The throne of the Holy See is vacant. A successor must be appointed.
Thomas Lawrence (Ralph Fiennes) is Dean of the College of Cardinals. He’s chosen to oversee the selection process.
He does so reluctantly as he’s struggling with his prayer life. Tensions rise in St Peter’s Basilica as various contenders throw their birettas into the ring.
We are in Edward Berger’s nail-biting papal thriller, Conclave (12A). It poses the question of who will be the next leader of the Church? Will it be the progressive Cardinal Bellini (Stanley Tucci), who believes in contraception, gay rights and women having a stronger say in the Curia? Or the reactionary Cardinal Tedesco (Sergio Castellito), who favours a return to the pre-Vatican II Tridentine Mass?
Another candidate is Cardinal Tremblay (John Lithgow). His last meeting with the deceased Pontiff casts a cloud over his chances. There’s also Cardinal Adeyami (Lucien Msamati), an early front-runner. He could be the world’s first African Pope… until a dropped tray causes a nun to be questioned about her past association with him.
Scandals mount up. The election becomes a question not so much of selecting the best man as the ‘least worst’ one. Cardinal Bellini’s sardonic phrase recalls Pope Francis’ remark on Kamala Harris and Donald Trump in the recent American presidential election.
A surprise package is Cardinal Benitez (Carlos Diehz) who arrives from Kabul. There are questions about his eligibility; he was appointed a cardinal in pectore (i.e. secretly).
This may be a film centred on ecclesiastical matters but it has all the tension of a Dan Brown book – and more than one similarity to The Da Vinci Code.
There’s humour (have you ever seen a cardinal vaping before?), a terrorist explosion, a series of twists that reveal more subterfuge than West Wing, and a climactic shock that unfortunately reduces everything to the level of pulp fiction.
Never mind. Along the way we have some brilliant performances, a whip-smart script, a pounding music score from Volker Bertlemann – who also worked with Berger on All Quiet on the Western Front – and some stunning cinematography.
Isabella Rossellini also impresses as the ‘invisible’ Sr Agnes. A wise owl, she doesn’t say much but sees everything.
Fiennes must be seen as an Oscar contender on the basis of his performance. With a furrow of his brow he can convey more than most actors who chew carpets. He seems to be carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders as he juggles between the candidates and his conscience, advocating doubt as a mantra.
Berger adopts a slow-burning approach to the incendiary material from Robert Harris’ novel before ramping up the tension to high-octane levels. Votes are counted, favourites installed and then deposed as Machiavellian machinations are exposed and the chalice passed.
This isn’t so much a contest between gentlemen as a high stakes poker game with a major prize. Who’ll win it? And in what circumstances? You’ll gasp as you find out.