REVIEW: Aesthetics Come First In ‘Immaculate’

Catholic horror stories are a staple in cinema. From The Exorcist to The Omen and the many exploitation films in between, the grandiose visuals the Catholic church offers are hard to resist and bastardize for thrills. The latest in this tried-and-true tradition is Immaculate. 

The film follows Sister Cecilia (Sydney Sweeney), an American nun of devout faith, as she embarks on a religious journey in a remote convent in the picturesque Italian countryside. The landscape is beautiful, the convent is pious, and she is beloved early on by the priest (Álvaro Morte). But Cecilia’s warm welcome quickly devolves into a nightmare when she becomes pregnant and a sinister secret rears its head.

Sister Cecilia is a meek and mild maiden searching for her purpose in life, the reason Jesus saved her from drowning as a child. Her faith and devotion propel her, while the rest of her wants are discarded when she takes her vows. Cecilia is moved by god to help others and to be married to the lord. She is devout in every single way until she begins to experience small horrors in the convent. Something going bump in the night, night terrors clearly inspired by Suspiria, and acts of violence emerging around her begin to change who she is at her core.

Sweeney’s dedication to her performance is sacred. Her passion is loud and clear, even in her quiet moments floating in the bath. But Sweeney’s story behind producing the film and rescuing it from film script purgatory is more intriguing than how director Michael Mohan and writer Andrew Lobel executed each twist. That said, the virgin mother Cecilia is going to become a horror icon, even if the movie flounders.

Cecilia’s journey throughout the film is a steady one for the first two acts. She is uncomfortable with her new saintly status, but she handles it with care. But as her body begins to deteriorate and the other sisters around her reveal their true colors, Cecilia stops being a dedicated servant of God and pawn for priests and instead finds herself.

Her friendship with fellow nun, Sister Gwen, is the cornerstone of her worldview shifting. Benedetta Porcaroli‘s Gwen is brash and unashamed of her past life. The world broke her but a convent was a chance to start new, have a meal, and a roof over her head. For Gwen, religion is practical, and men are clearly the core of evil in the world. As the two grow close, their relationship morphs, and while Cecilia lacks Gwen’s voice, she does start to find it.

With its Catholic setting, it’s clear that Immaculate is engaging with the importance of bodily autonomy. Cecilia is forced to give birth to a child she does not want. She is told that the child is a miracle. More importantly, her health isn’t protected at every check-up. It’s her child. Cecilia is nothing more than a vessel, an empty shell that exists to carry a savior. As the church continues to restrain her, Cecilia doesn’t shrink. She grows. You can say she wakes up.

Sweeney’s Cecilia is fantastic because the actress understands how to act without dialogue. Her screams, quivering lips, and eyes, as they turn red with tears, all work to craft a delicate character who transforms into someone more visceral and powerful by the film’s end. Immaculate is Syndey Sweeney’s best performance yet.

The film is dripping with beauty and tackles the importance of feminine agency within religion. However, Immaculate is ultimately let down by its pacing. With a clunky transition between acts, the film’s narrative doesn’t take hold of the tension it crafts visually. Aesthetics come first in Immaculate, but it never pushes the boundary of the 70s nunsploitation films it aims to echo in its vibrant cinematography. The third-act finale is epic on its own, but the ramp-up to the terrifying but cathartic moment feels sluggish at best and confused at worst. With an overreliance on jump scares, it’s hard to dig deeper for most of the film.

Decadent and beautiful, Immaculate doesn’t reimagine religious horror, but it does walk the well-trodden path with a head held high. The stellar third act is frantic and mean, with just the right amount of commentary. While we may not have gotten there with the same intensity, the finale is a roar instead of a whimper.

Immaculate was screened as a part of the 2024 SXSW Film & TV Festival and is playing in theaters nationwide now.