‘Conclave’ Review

Not every film has an inherently interesting subject, but depending on its direction, it can be elevated to new heights. Such is the case with Edward Berger’s procedural thriller, Conclave, which takes the mundane process of electing a new Pope and treats it with a severity that turns its religious window dressing into a tense depiction of a flawed electoral system. Through its sturdy ensemble, decadent production design, and catty dialogue, Berger’s film has an immersive quality that quickly settles into a comfortable groove. While it can often feel toothless in its off-handed commentaries that exemplify why fewer and fewer people hold the Roman Catholic Church in high regard, Conclave is consistently entertaining even if it is sometimes too cautious to wade into incendiary topics that its occasionally incisive remarks would indicate.

Admittedly, few topics will interest non-religious audiences less than the papacy and its electoral process. That initial feeling that this isn’t for everyone positions Conclave in an uphill battle. “You’re about to become the most famous man in the world,” quips a character to another about the prospect of becoming the new Pope, and that’s the kind of seriousness with which Berger’s direction and Peter Straughan’s screenplay tries to manifest in every facet of the film’s execution. From the isolation self-imposed by the Cardinals as they sequester themselves within the Vatican to the dramatic shot compositions of contemplating figures dressed in regal robes strategically plotting their next move to secure the papacy, Berger’s film is drenched in self-importance. That’s mostly a feature and not a bug, though.

Our guide through the election process of a new Pope is Cardinal Lawrence (Ralph Fiennes), who is reluctantly placed in charge of leading the conclave following the Pope’s death. A man who has recently been struggling with his faith is forced to facilitate the election of the Pope’s successor, and it quickly becomes apparent that it will mean entertaining the many perspectives held within the Roman Catholic Church. As Cardinals from all over the world gather in the Vatican, the contenders become clear as dangerous ideologies bubble to the surface and the Church becomes threatened to regress to a past state of thinking. Straughan’s screenplay is not subtle in its parallels with modern-day America. Now that the United States election process has yielded a convicted criminal as its leader, Conclave takes on a significance that is impossible to understate.

Of course, Straughan is adapting a novel written in 2016 by Richard Harris, when the recently re-elected President of the United States of America was first elected through an ostensibly democratic process. The parallels could have been drawn then, just as they are now with the arrival of the film adaptation, but that would be too narrow-minded of an approach to Conclave. The novel and the film both see the shades of darkness within every man, and there is an emphasis on the fact that those who should be in power rarely have the tenacity to pursue it, and those who do often should not hold all the cards. This is exemplified by both Cardinal Lawrence, whose name appears on ballots during the conclave - much to his chagrin - and Cardinal Bellini (Stanley Tucci), who seems like the best option for the more progressive cardinals despite his modesty and consistent reluctance to be the one in charge.

Instead, the front runners throughout the conclave are immediately apparent, and all risk dismantling the Church's progress to modernize itself and reflect a constantly evolving society. Cardinal Tedesco (Sergio Castellitto) maintains traditionalist views that antiquated him but also sees a large amount of support due to the make-up of the current Roman Catholic Church; Cardinal Adeyemi (Lucian Msamati) holds socially conservative values that would ostracize LGBTQIA2S+ communities and uphold traditional values; and Cardinal Tremblay (John Lithgow) is so obviously corrupt and selfish that his conservative values are less the problem than himself. It’s in these three men of varying shades of hate that the conclave must decide between, as well as Cardinal Bellini, Lawrence, and Cardinal Benitez (Carlos Diehz) - the latter of who has remained a secret from the Church, as per the Pope’s decree.

It’s in the confrontations behind closed doors and evidence slowly coming to light at opportune times to strike down an opponent that Conclave comes alive with an invigorating energy. The dialogue is often snappy enough to be humorous and aggressive towards other characters, resulting in a suffocating pressure applied to everyone involved in the conclave. It is a performance-heavy film in that the dialogue only lands as effectively as it does with the added gravitas of its performers. Fiennes is an undeniable standout from everyone else, but Castellitto’s over-the-top portrayal of Tedesco pries under the skin of the film’s themes and slowly agitates the calm, leveled performance from Fiennes. Everyone else provides a sturdy backbone for each actor to attempt to outshine the other. However, since the characters can often feel one-dimensional in their writing, it leaves an onus on the performances that leave actors like Tucci and Lithgow with very little camouflage from other roles in their filmographies.

The more muted and quiet performances highlight the idea that the loudest voices in the room drown out the sensible and rational. Diehz’s Benitez blends into the background, with the character feeling like an unnecessary addition for long stretches of the film. It’s someone whose demeanor represents the kind of humbleness and reserved quality the other candidates lack. Diehz is subtle in his portrayal, and it winds up speaking volumes about the character’s interiority in ways that many of the other performances tend to lack. The same can be said about Isabella Rossellini, whose Sister Agnes leads the other nuns as they clean, cook, and keep out of sight from the conclave’s proceedings. It’s a reserved performance by an actress who can command a scene with a stirring intensity, and while she is given few moments to shine in Straughan’s screenplay, she is appropriately weaponized for one of the film’s most effective scenes.

The problem with Conclave is that it is too narrowly focused on its parallels. Whenever it approaches a subject trickier to untangle than “Which morally murky individual is less egregious?” it brushes it off just as quickly as it introduces it. That’s troublesome when the film’s subject matter is the Roman Catholic Church, and a significant reason for the difficulty in electing a new Pope is these more complicated matters. Every character seems to be tangled up in something worth interrogating, especially when it comes to electing someone to represent an ideal, but Berger’s severity in direction only goes so far when the screenplay is far more focused on generalizations than intricate character studies. It’s a film more concerned with the big ideas and leaving the audience with a single thought rather than potentially muddling its message with confrontations of sexual abuse, corruption, and a myriad of ideological disputes that continue to weigh the church down as an anchor.

The sterile presentation of the Vatican’s decadent interior ultimately echoes the screenplay’s rounding of its edges. Conclave is an immense achievement in posturing as important through its production design, costumes, score, cinematography, and other production elements. While its digital photography can sometimes be underwhelming, Stéphane Fontaine’s shot compositions are striking. Every aspect of Conclave’s production design lends itself to elevating a film that is an easily digestible pulpy thriller. The team was so attentive to detail that they built a replica of the Sistine Chapel. There’s no denying the level of craftsmanship that created such a staggering sense of immersion. However, it’s one thing to create an artificial sense of place, and Berger glosses up every detail to craft something slicker than it is. Perhaps the most obvious manifestation of this is Volker Bertelmann’s memorable score, which frequently feels out of place yet remains infectious. It emphasizes a film that is far more political than it is religious—less of a soundtrack to the election of a Pope and more the backroom deals of a shady senator seeking election.

The decision to take a much cleaner and lean approach to its screenplay also results in a series of moments in the final act of Conclave that are more sensationalist than meaningful to the film. It’s great that the movie broaches some of the subject matter it does in the later portions of the film, but it’s dramatized to the point of being disingenuous. It all adds to the sense that Conclave is just too much pageantry for its subject matter and far too toothless to say anything new or noteworthy. With its most exciting conflict left for the audience to interrogate, Berger’s film feels tailor-made to elicit a strong reaction when the credits roll. It leaves an impression that the film is contending with massive social and political topics by simply leaving its strongest wrinkle for the end. Conclave may be too afraid to get dirty and say something new, but its self-seriousness bolsters a pulpy thriller with just enough entertainment.