Title: Immaculate
Director: Michael Mohan
Cast: Sydney Sweeney, Álvaro Morte, Benedetta Porcaroli, Simona Tabasco, Giorgio Colangeli, Giulia Heathfield Di Renzi.
Where: In theatres near you
Rating: ***
Ah, Immaculate — the film that dares to ask, "What if a nun got pregnant in the Italian countryside?" Directed by Michael Mohan and starring Sydney Sweeney, this movie blends religious horror, psychological thriller, and a dash of nunsploitation for good measure. It's like the films, Rosemary's Baby had an affair with The Nun, and the result is a cinematic bundle of joy that might just be the bastard child of both.
Sister Cecilia (Sweeney), a devout nun from Michigan, relocates to My Lady of Sorrows convent in Italy. Upon arrival, she's met with disdainful customs officers who seem to lament her choice of vocation more than her looks. Director Michael Mohan wastes no time plunging us into the convent's labyrinthine corridors, beautifully shot by Elisha Christian. The Gothic aesthetic is both a visual treat and a claustrophobic nightmare.
Cecilia meets the charmingly creepy Father Sal Tedeschi (Álvaro Morte), a priest with a science background. This holy Molotov cocktail ignites when Cecilia’s morning sickness reveals a miraculous pregnancy. The second trimester of chaos ensues, with Cecilia monitored by black-hooded figures in red face masks who look like they’ve wandered off the set of a gothic K-pop video. These figures, while visually striking, remain unexplained, much like the film's jump scares and overly loud sound effects.
The convent’s community of nuns shines or darkens, as the case may be. Benedetta Porcaroli stands out as Sister Gwen, Cecilia’s only ally amidst the creeping dread. Her defiant spirit hints at a more intriguing backstory than the script allows, adding much-needed depth to the proceedings.
The climax is gripping, nearly redeeming the film’s earlier meanderings. Sweeney’s performance in these final moments is a masterclass in emotional range. The camera glued to her face, she conveys terror to triumph without uttering a word—except for a series of blood-curdling screams that remind us why she’s becoming the scream queen of her generation.
However, the film suffers from an identity crisis, torn between being a nunsploitation gorefest and a critique of religious commodification. This ambivalence results in a movie that dabbles in both but masters neither. It’s like watching a chef combine sushi and spaghetti—ambitious but unsatisfying.
Despite these flaws, the film is an appealing ride, largely thanks to Sweeney’s committed performance and Mohan’s atmospheric storytelling. The film borrows from genre predecessors, deploying shock cuts and jump scares with a wink. It doesn’t reinvent the wheel but spins it with enough flair to keep you engaged.
Overall, the film asks you to suspend disbelief and enjoy a wild, if uneven, ride. It’s a horror-thriller that flirts with profundity but settles for pulp, wrapped in a habit as intriguing as it is incongruous. If nothing else, it is a testament to Sydney Sweeney’s star power and commitment to the role.
