Conclave hits a bit differently in 2024, post-American elections, and it’s hard not to wonder what it’d feel like to watch the film right before everything tumbled straight to hell here. Yet, for this particular writer, that wasn’t the case—there is no hope in the aftermath. After the success of the brutally brilliant All Quiet on the Western Front, Edward Berger returns with one of the most gripping and memorable films of the year, brimming with excellent performances by both Ralph Fiennes and Stanley Tucci.
Based on the novel of the same name by Robert Harris, Conclave follows the election process of selecting a new pope. With a relatively simple and contained plot that takes place with a few set changes and complex characters to follow, it leaves us with ample space to explore an enormously haunting theme during a short timeframe. Two hours fly by as one tally after another brings secrets and frustration to the forefront in a process that’s outright anxiety-inducing at times.
The choice to put Fiennes at the center of the narrative while allowing his character to be a more worthy frontrunner despite his insistence that he doesn’t want to become pope is surely something, to say the least. With this, Fiennes and Tucci make an improbable team, diving deep into the corruption, complexities, thirst for power, and the ultimate preservation of current liberal views. In true Edward Berger fashion, the film serves as an antithesis of corruption, similar to how he presents his views in All Quiet on the Western Front.
Of the few films on Catholicism and religion I’ve watched, none have provided a more compelling view of the mixture between church and state and how doubt, in many ways, is an integral component of religious struggles.
“Our faith is a living thing precisely because it walks hand-in-hand with doubt. If there was only certainty and no doubt, there would be no mystery. And therefore no need for faith. Let us pray that God will grant us a Pope who doubts. And let him grant us a Pope who sins and asks for forgiveness and who carries on.“
Questioning faith is part of believing in a God, and challenging the systems designed to shame people for their mere existence—or, in more religious terms, sins—provides an intriguing viewpoint in the film’s landscape. This way, today especially, human beings, whether torn away from religion (or some of us who still have faith but don’t agree with much of the church’s opposition toward minority groups), want to believe that there can be people who simply value humanity with all its blemishes.
Fast-paced yet deliberately slow at times, Conclave doesn’t miss a beat in presenting its viewers with conversations that are imperative for us to understand what’s unfolding in front of us. A specific line about not mentioning women, especially stings, and varied narratives that unfold with some of the cardinals deserve to be experienced for the first time without spoilers.
The process of this election and the conversations that lead to the climax feel so satisfying as so many of the deceitful notions are fully transparent to the audience. In a world where humans are shielded from so much, it’s riveting that the audience is fully aware of everything here. It’s this very transparency lacking in the world that makes watching the film somewhat even more of a captivating experience. Dramatic at times and overly theatrical, Conclave provides a feat in every area—from performances to the costumes and the score from Volker Bertelmann, there’s plenty to consider in every area as a study in humanity, religion, and deep, engrained notions that can be challenging to alter.
Conclave is now available for digital rent and purchase.
First Featured Image Credit: ©Focus Features