Wednesday, July 6, 2022

Saint Maud (2019)

Conviction is a terrifying thing in Saint Maud, the 2019 horror film built around faith, redemption, and self-flagellation. In a svelte sub-ninety minute runtime, Saint Maud spins a multi-layered horror film without ever committing to either realism or the fantastic, adding depth to a story that, if played in only one direction, could easily have felt familiar rather than engaging and original. 


Maud (Morfyyd Clark) has left her hospital job to become an in-home carer. Assigned to Amanda (Jennifer Ehle), a former dancer of some acclaim, the devoutly religious Maud resolves to save her cancer-stricken patient—not from inevitable and fast-approaching death but damnation. Amanda humors her early on, but soon Maud becomes overbearing, pushing out Amanda’s lover Carol (Lily Frazer) while aiming to strengthen her own bond at the urging of the spirit she communicates with. But Amanda disagrees and their inevitable conflict boils over, forcing Maud to regroup and decide whether she will let go of her role as Amanda’s savior or surrender to the increasingly present spirit push to act.


A common criticism in many films is that one performer is acting in a different film than everyone else, and that statement is abundantly true of Clark as Maud. Maud is demure, she speaks with a anachronistic accent, she regards technology as sin and other people as sinners; Clark plays her as a devout Puritan dropped into the present day, hissing at phones and pleasures with intense, haunted eyes. Every other character is human; Clark leads Maud off into her own austere world of crosses and discipline. But this is not a criticism of Clark: Maud’s remove from the world casts shadows over everything because she so resists reality. Others recognize that something is off about Maud but, because she keeps to herself, says so little, and apparently means well—particularly in her role as a caregiver which she is thorough in and devoted to—people set aside alarms bells and think “hyper religious” rather than “dangerous zealot”. Clark is a master of what I’ll call absent presence here: Maud stands in the room or participated in the conversation but always from a separate plane barely aware of the others’.


But we are privy to Maud outside her caregiver role and know something is up. We see her self-harm in numerous ways, we catch flashbacks to something traumatic, and we see blood in unexpected places, always spiraling and dripping. The camera work and lighting help as well: Maud is shot from ominous twisted angles as though she can’t be properly framed and she always catches strange lighting that could be nothing but seems like something eerie when she is convulsing soon after. We never know what is real and what is in her head, but we know something is askew and that it does not bode well for either Maud or Amanda. 


Where Maud inhabits her own world, Amanda is given depth by Ehle. Never quite buying into Maud’s earnest rituals but resisting cruelty, Ehle has a knowing look of sad bemusement: she finds her caregiver to be insufferable but knows that she cannot push her away. Maud is good for her and takes care of her; she can tolerate the exchange as her body fails. But when the few pleasures in her life are pulled away—her liquor, Carol, even smoking—Ehle lets Amanda falter, with her unseen smirks becoming acerbic comments and scolding. To die with class is impressive, but to die with bitter righteous anger is understandable: we see both in a way that reflects investment from the script. Amanda could have been an object in Maud’s story but she never is allowed to be merely that. 


With only 80 minutes or so to tell its story, Saint Maud’s careful construction precludes the film from feeling rushed. The middle third juggles the most stuff—a skirmish, Maud’s self-questioning, new revelations—but even then there is an impressive concision: we get exactly as much of each scene that we need to raise questions and swallow hard but not a second more. We meet a few other characters whose minimal lines are always sufficient to fill out our profile of Maud and lead us to the film’s conclusion. 


And damn what a conclusion. I’ll resist spoilers, even though I would love to get into the ending because, in some ways, I feel like the film answers every question it begs…but that the answers it gives can still be held up to interpretation? I say this because, as the credits rolled, I felt convinced of one truth but, hours later, I suddenly feel certain of the opposite. Faith is a tricky subject to tackle, especially in a horror movie, but I think Saint Maud manages to address the subject well.


This is all to say: Saint Maud is an impressive creation. It says a lot without wasting words, it both leans into and skirts alongside the horror genre, and it rides two strong (but extremely different) performances into something haunting and richly ambiguous without leaving too many loose threads. Whether you fear the decay of the human body, the human soul, or the human mind, there’s something dread-inducing here to twist your stomach and get the film never overstays its welcome. That’s a win in my book. 

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