It’s rare to watch a movie that feels less like it was influenced by other, better films and more like a straight-up clone of one. Even in a genre like horror, where subcategories of movies like slashers and creature features frequently imitate or reference each other, making something that isn’t in some way distinct is a challenge. (Even Jason, Michael, and Freddy have always felt like their own villains, despite each of their franchises borrowing from one another over the years.)
But Immaculate, the new horror film starring Sydney Sweeney that premiered March 12 at the SXSW Film Festival, never manages to outrun or outscare its thematic doppelgänger. Viewers will instantly recognize similarities to The Nun films, considering both that franchise and Immaculate are about young nuns living in a European convent who begin to experience dark forces living within the walls of their holy home. It’s not impossible that two noticeably different nun films could be made close to one another. But given that the stale beats and absurd twists of this new film very much recall the successful franchise preceding it, Immaculate ends up feeling like one of those cheap knockoffs of popular movies that are buried on streaming services, not an appointment horror film starring one of Hollywood’s hottest stars.
The Nun 3…er, sorry, I mean Benedetta 2: The She-Quel…or, my bad, Immaculate is, at the very least, notable as a showcase of Sweeney's indisputable talents. There’s a reason that the film trails her so closely; she’s the single most compelling presence on screen at any given time. Sweeney plays Cecelia, a young woman who travels to Italy to join a convent after being called to take her vows by a handsome and charismatic priest (Álvaro Morte). Immigration officials remark in Italian about Cecelia’s appearance and her youth, covertly suggesting to one another that her religious chastity is a “waste.”
From these first few moments, the film exhibits its themes in big, neon lights. Bodily autonomy! Sexual violence! Using religion to justify nefarious misdeeds! It’s all gallingly conspicuous enough to prompt remorse over the apparent death of subtlety, especially when Immaculate so happily pulls references from classic, cunning Italian horror like 1989’s The Church or the original 1977 Suspiria. One look at Cecelia’s journey into the Italian countryside, and it’s impossible not to recall the similar trek that Jessica Harper’s Suzy Banion took to the dance academy in that latter Dario Argento film; it doesn’t help that Will Bates’ score for Immaculate calls to mind Goblin’s famous Moog synthesizer music for Suspiria, either.
Immaculate isn’t so much the sum of this vast library of references as it is a frankensteined monstrosity, stitched together with little grace or acumen. When Cecelia arrives at the convent, she’s welcomed with cold shoulders by her fellow sisters. This jealousy seems strange, especially given that Catholicism purports to be about acceptance of your fellow godly siblings. That peculiarity is also what makes the secrets that Immaculate thinly sheaths so simple to ascertain, like looking at plot points through the grille in a priest’s confession box. Once Cecelia—who is still a virgin when she arrives—becomes pregnant after her very first night in her new surroundings, it doesn’t take divine intervention to figure out what’s going on with this miraculous conception.
Writer Andrew Lobel and director Michael Mohan might have been able to pull off this ruse (or, at least, make the lead-up to the film’s bloody climax entertaining) if they understood how to establish any distinct atmosphere. Neither Mohan nor Lobel know how to build tension and horrific suspense, much less release it to create a fluid, ebb-and-flow pacing. Instead, scares land with a leaden thump, tossed out like they were plunked into the screenplay at the last second—when Lobel realized Immaculate could be a horror film, and not merely a religious thriller. If the film were confident enough to be the latter, it could have a real, veritable identity of its own. But Lobel abandons the horror element almost outright in the film's last half hour, a baffling decision, considering that the first 60 minutes of the movie are spent stacking cheap, predictable jump scares. While the narrative deviation saves Immaculate from being a total waste of time, the film doesn’t earn its final twist, if you could even call it that.
When Claudette Godfrey, the film programmer for SXSW’s Film and TV festival, told the audience at the world premiere that they “don’t even know what’s about to happen,” it almost sounded like a challenge. How much could Mohan and Lobel throw at viewers, and would it be legitimately scary? If you see windows, mirrors, and dark rooms, and don’t realize that you’re about to be hit with a cheap shock, maybe. But for those who have been around the block with the horror genre, Immaculate won’t deliver the thrills its premise promises. The jumps are effective, sure, and they play great with a theatrical audience. But does the trauma Cecelia faces get under your skin? Will you remember it long after the credits roll, as one does after their first viewing of something like the conceptually similar Rosemary’s Baby? The chance of that is about the same as the odds of a legitimate immaculate conception: slim to none.
It is not, however, for a lack of trying on Sweeney’s part. Her Cecelia has all the right stuff, and Sweeney uses her expressive eyes and evocative features to turn her character into a snarling, frightened horrorshow. Her work keeps Immaculate interesting, even when there’s nothing remotely intriguing happening around her. Seeing as Sweeney rescued the film and joined it as not just a lead actor but also a very active producer, that’s not all that surprising. But she also offers just enough heart to keep the project from feeling soulless. There’s a palpable passion behind the scenes, and that’s deeply felt in the movie’s last 20 minutes, which include an extended shot of Sweeney that is the film’s most startling, visceral image. Had the rest of the film been as haunting, Immaculate might have been the gut-wrenching terror it assumes itself to be. But a horror film can’t hinge itself on one truly great moment, no matter how committed its brazen star is.
Though Immaculate won’t raise any hairs, it should boost Sweeney’s career. She transcends all of the triteness, proving herself to be the megawatt actress with virtuoso potential that she’s already demonstrated herself to be. Without her touch, Immaculate would lose its strongest element, making the film far more convent-ional than it already is.
