★★☆☆☆
The figure of the Nun is no stranger to the horror genre. From Black Narcissus (1947) to The Nun (2018) and The First Omen (2024), those who have taken up the veil have proven themselves to be powerful and prominent features within the genre. More broadly, Catholicism—with its stories of hell, damnation and, most importantly, the devil—has become fertile ground for the imagination of horror to run wild. Christopher Smith’s new film Consecration is the latest to throw its hat in the ring.
The film follows Grace as she visits the Mount Saviour Convent in Scotland, hoping to uncover the truth behind the mysterious death of her brother, Michael, a priest at the convent. A series of strange hallucinations and blackouts leaves Grace in the care of the church where she discovers a conspiracy that forces her to confront her own past. As Catholic horror goes, the film portrays a fairly common narrative structure: an unwilling participant coming up against the esoteric nature of the church, facing the blunt power of organised religion and the fervour of overzealous nuns. We’ve seen this kind of film time and again and Consecration does little in the way of style or substance to add anything new to the trope.
The main issue with Consecration comes from the fact that audiences are never quite sure if it’s trying to be serious or a pastiche of some campy horror-flick from the 1970s. Many of the stylistic choices feel misaligned. At times, it is sensuous and gritty, and at others, low-budget and cheap. The film struggles to consolidate its artistic vision. Certain shots strive for the sleek, moody aesthetics of an A24 film, something akin to Rose Glass’ Saint Maude (2018), and indeed there are some beautifully constructed scenes, particularly pertaining to the architecture of the convent and its estate. These include low-angle shots of Grace descending into dark crypts and close-ups as she stalks through the gardens after an errant nun whom she wishes to question. In these moments, a sophisticated and brooding effect subsumes the screen, elevating the film from its otherwise childish attempt at horror. These shots, however, are few and far between and are ruined by the gimmicky grey-scale colouring as well as the constant use of blurred vignettes to give the vague sense of paranormal threat. Worse still are the many flashbacks throughout the film, each introduced by a flare of white light, an effect that gives the impression of a powerpoint transition. Consequently, the whole film comes across as rather amateur, never quite able to provide the authority needed to make the story truly unsettling.
Jenna Malone’s performance as Grace is equally as confused as she dons a jarring English accent: stereotypically posh and quaint. So brutishly affected is her accent, you can’t believe it’s anything other than a stylistic choice, for what reason, however, it’s not entirely clear. It may arguably be a reference to the kitsch performances of earlier horror classics like Argento’s Suspiria (1977) or Ken Russell’s The Devils (1971) but, once again, this aesthetic choice isn’t upheld enough by the rest of the film to render it pleasing. Malone has some great moments of physical acting, but overall, Grace appears stiff and lacking reality. Despite pathos-filled flashbacks that reveal the childhood trauma of both Grace and her brother, the characters come across as one-dimensional. The film relies too heavily on the narrative of trauma to do the work, so much so that the effects of it never quite meet the characters in their present situation.
What’s frustrating is that behind the poor structure and vision of the film, there is a kernel of something interesting in its story. Whilst it mostly repeats the same narrative structures of the genre, it differs in its play on the cosmic evil at the heart of the tale. Never clearly named, it stems from Grace herself, who viewers learn is an ancient relic who once belonged to the convent. In one particularly heavy-handed flashback, audiences are transported to the middle ages, where they discover that Grace was a pagan priestess trapped by the church for her heretical practice. Although its function within the wider narrative is slightly ridiculous, the figure of paganism as a counterpoint to the hegemony of the church is genuinely a compelling and novel addition to the canon of Catholic horror. The film’s ability to translate this, however, is shoddy at best and comes across as slapstick and awkward. The point isn’t examined enough to pay off and the rest of the film is far too concerned with being overtly legible as a horror movie to give it the time.
The Verdict
Consecration falters from trying to show too much without being able to maintain a sustained stylistic vision. Moments that could have been left to inference or shrouded in a bit of gothic mystery are laid totally bare, as in the case of the characters’ past. As the movie struggles to formulate a succinct and truly eerie presence on screen, everything else falters around it. Instead, the mismatch between performances, editing and narrative leaves the film feeling hollow and clumsy where truly the most terrifying aspect of the film is the throng of aesthetic faux pas.
Words by Kit Gullis
Consecration hits UK cinemas from 16 June.
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