As his metaphors for the unsatisfying nature of organized belief grow, so too do Barnes’ suspicions, who unlike Paxton was originally raised outside the Church of Jesus Christ Latter Day Saints and is a bit more wary of leering men eager to explain philosophy and history to her. Also where is this dude’s wife? That’s when she notices the blueberries they smell are emanating from a scented candle.
The sadistic playfulness of Beck and Woods’ conceit is how both immediate the menace is, yet slow-boiling the realization comes. The ill bent of Mr. Reed’s intentions for these young women arrives fairly rapidly, even as its shape remains elusive. Amusingly so, at times. In the short-term, what Reed primarily desires is an intellectual debate about the virtues of “belief” versus skepticism, or “disbelief”—as indicated when he marks two doors with exactly those words.
Yet the fact he is doing this in front of two frightened and grimacing girls belies the malice in his lecture. They are no more prone to a theological treatise than they are likely to find salvation when Reed promises, always smilingly, that one door will lead to freedom and the other… to, well, something best not discussed in polite company. It’s terrifying, but also thrilling due to a masterclass in fiendishness from Grant.
Heretic comes at an interesting point in the British thespian’s career. Perhaps more than any other actor of the 1990s and 2000s, Hugh Grant was once synonymous with charm. His affected diffidence and awkwardness were counterintuitive, with each quality only greater emphasizing emphasizing his innate charisma. But the thing about charisma is it can lead you down wicked roads, particularly when religion is concerned.
Heretic is by no means the first film to realize that in his advancing years, Grant’s appeal can be perverted into something diabolical. But it is the best use of that subversion to date. While Grant has enjoyed drolly chewing scenery as a family film heavy in Paddington 2, and being the one redeeming thing as a motormouth gangster in Guy Ritchie’s turgid The Gentlemen, it is in Mr. Reed that Grant at last finds a villain whose vices match the virtues of, say, a bookshop owner on Notting Hill.
Mr. Reed is learned, ingratiating, and able to mask his towering contempt for matters of faith and religion with the persuasiveness of the Devil. The character’s ability to tempt doubt, at least in the tenets of faith provides Heretic with its greatest strength.
