Society consists of several different factions into which we all fit, even if we don’t realize it or even actively strive to be completely detached from any classification, with some being more mysterious than others. For well over a thousand years, one of the most intriguing sections of society has been the leadership of the Catholic Church, the oldest Christian denomination and one that is built on centuries of traditions, many of which remain quite controversial despite being the cornerstone of the religion and its millions of practitioners. Despite its longevity, the church has mostly kept its inner workings a secret, which some claim is the reason it has managed to remain as active and powerful today as it was many years ago – and being ingrained in Catholicism for any period makes it clear that this is exactly how those in power would prefer it to remain. This has only led to perpetual interrogation of the church and its activities, which remain unmoving despite active efforts to understand its origins and how it functions. Artists across generations and geographical locations have often taken an interest in the church, offering their observations and interpretations of its machinations, leading to several terrific and provocative attempts to explore the legacy of Catholicism and the people in charge. One of the many intriguing works centred on the subject is Conclave, in which author Robert Harris follows the immediate aftermath of the reigning Pope’s sudden death, particularly the moment when cardinals from across the world descend on the Vatican City, being sequestered from the outside world and undergoing the process to elect a new pontiff, a lengthy endeavour only made more challenging by the tensions caused by feuding factions within the church, each one of them focused on electing their ideal candidate. The novel has now been adapted into a film, with Edward Berger taking the reigns on translating this scandalous and provocative novel for the screen, crafting a larger-than-life psychological thriller that dives into the circumstances surrounding this event and how it is not nearly as seamless and sophisticated an affair as we may have been led to believe.

The trouble with religious cinema is that it very rarely can stand on its own, and rather needs to take a specific angle to be taken somewhat seriously or not just be viewed as middle-of-the-road faith-based fare. However, this is also a blessing (no pun intended), since it allows for some genuine innovation, filtering common subject matter into different forms, which can be extremely exciting when done well. Berger is a solid filmmaker, and while he may not be as exciting as some of his peers as far as style goes, his work tends to have a substance that makes him a good candidate for this material, especially when the novel is being adapted by screenwriter Peter Straughan, who is himself a solid authorial voice. Conclave takes the form of a tense political thriller, just set within the Vatican City rather than more traditional centres of political intrigue, which allows it to make some fascinating comments on not only the customs of the church but also its relationship with the outside world. There are only a few short moments towards the beginning and end when we step outside the hallowed halls of the city, with the majority of the film taking place in the grandiose chambers and winding corridors, which serve as the stage for an insightful voyage into one of the most challenging processes in the church’s history, albeit one that has become almost folkloric, primarily because of its ironclad secrecy. We are inherently predisposed to be more curious about the concepts that are the most tightly concealed, so naturally we’re going to find a lot of value in any work that purports to have insights, even if their veracity cannot ever be entirely proven without first-hand accounts, which is not the case here. Conclave attempts to peer behind the curtain of the Catholic Church, looking into a secret process that may seem like nothing more than pomp and ceremony on the surface, but has a lot of importance, both in terms of the religious community and the political landscape, which is still nonetheless heavily influenced by the papacy, even if it has certainly become a much more ceremonial position than it was in the past.

Those seeking a more authentic glimpse into the inner workings of the Catholic Church are not going to find it here – Conclave is rooted in truth, but it is nonetheless a fictional work and thus cannot be viewed as gospel (once again, no pun intended), which proves to be a merit, since suddenly everyone involved can take their approach, rather than being restricted by the quest for authenticity. This is proof that allowing a more versatile director to helm such an adaptation can have solid results, and Berger himself refuses to be bound by the restrictive, forbidding dogma that has enshrouded the church for longer than any of us have been alive. Conclave should be viewed from a slight distance and with critical thinking always at hand, primarily since it requires some degree of suspension of disbelief to unearth the ideas that sit right at the heart of the narrative. Berger does tend to follow clear patterns usually associated with the political thriller genre when crafting this film – there are several twists scattered throughout the film, and it becomes something of a puzzle after a while, the audience is placed in positions of passive observers, collecting the clues dropped throughout the story and trying to piece them together to find the meaning lingering beneath the surface. Conclave is not aiming to be the definitive word on the subject matter, or even to convey any meaning beyond the most obvious – but it’s still difficult to overlook the fact that this is a story about how something as well-established and brassbound as religion is more malleable than we expect, particularly in how differences of opinion can eventually result in division that threatens to pull the church apart at its seams – but when it all takes place behind closed doors, it is easy to convey the sense of a united front defined by sacrosanct traditions, the rest of the world being none the wiser. It’s an approach that works very well in the context of this film, even if it can be slightly shallow in some parts, a minor complaint that bears very little impact on the overall impression made by this film, but which we still notice upon closer inspection.

Much like more traditional politics, the leadership of the Catholic Church is often defined by its people, and those who follow this kind of subject will likely notice how colourful the major players tend to be, especially since politics is less about the policies and more about how those tasked with choosing a leader tend to be drawn to those based on personality. The characterization present in Conclave is very important, since it is nothing more than a large-scale game of strategy (the opening scene featuring characters talking about chess and how the now-deceased pope was always “eight steps ahead” is not only a very clear statement on the nature of the film, but also a bit of foreshadowing that we only notice once everything has fallen into place), in which each of these people is a player (or a pawn) in something much larger and far less simple to understand. The performances are therefore vital, since without strong work from the actors, there would be very little to attract us to this material. Ralph Fiennes is the centre of the film, playing the humble Dean of the College of Cardinals, and the person in charge of overseeing the election, a position he does not want precisely because of the responsibility and the fact that he is witness to the often immoral strategizing from the warring factions. He’s joined by some tremendous actors who play a variety of eccentric and fascinating parts – Stanley Tucci is the liberal choice that presents a more progressive version of the church, whereas Sergio Castellitto and Lucian Msamati are the more conservative options that represent a potential papacy that will be more regressive. John Lithgow is a delightful villain as the quintessential scheming authority figure who presents himself as a purely moral individual but has perhaps the most sinister intentions, and the always welcome Isabella Rossellini holds court as the mysterious Sister Agnes, who makes it very clear that it’s not always those elected to positions of power that have the most influence. The sprawling ensemble cast is the film’s greatest merit, and while its style and structure are intriguing, it’s the performances that define the film and make it such an engaging, complex affair. Berger didn’t get the opportunity to explore the inner lives of the characters in his previous film All Quiet on the Western Front, so it’s encouraging that he was able to return to a more character-based project, working closely with his actors to bring these compelling characters to life.

Berger being selected as a director is a fascinating choice, especially since the book itself could be adapted in many different ways (an early version of this film had Martin McDonagh attached, which would have likely leant into the more darkly comedic aspects of the material, which are still present, just in a much smaller capacity), so having someone who is known more as a versatile journeyman filmmaker more than one with a distinct style meant that a lot of focus was shifted to the other departments as they came together under his direction to create this film. This ultimately leads to Conclave being visually very striking, almost to the point where these elements overtake the writing itself, which is not diminished by the visual aesthetic, but rather complimented in slightly more unexpected ways, working alongside to create something more nuanced and engaging to compensate for the unwieldy nature of a narrative that was built more as a bundle of twists more than anything else. The film was shot on location in the Vatican City, which is an immediate merit since rather than attempting to recreate this iconic religious state, it chooses instead to let the centuries of architecture and design speak for themselves. For many of us, Conclave may be the most detailed depiction of the Vatican City we have seen to date, and whether or not it does justice to the epicentre of Catholicism is up to the individual. Regardless, it strives to be as visually arresting as it is narratively intriguing, and the results are clear – cinematographer Stéphane Fontaine takes the opportunity to experiment with compositions, creating several vivid images that may exist purely for aesthetic reasons, but make the film much more compelling, especially since a more prosaic approach may have been much less interesting or effective. The only way to describe Conclave accurately is as a maximalist cinema in its purest form, something that becomes increasingly more clear as we venture further into the story, which is much less focused on complete accuracy and instead provides something of a unique experience.

At its most fundamental level, Conclave is meant to be entertaining long before it is striving for accuracy and ultimately has to be taken at face value for the most part. Its over-the-top, vaguely excessive style of storytelling may not be for everyone, but as far as this specific category of maximalist art goes, it is a triumph. Political thrillers tend to be quite popular since they make the audience feel as if we are getting unfettered access into the inner workings of powerful organizations and institutions that have been shrouded in secrecy for as long as we can remember, and while it isn’t the definitive work on the subject (since there is very little chance we will ever be able to see a work that reveals the truth nature of the church and its most intimate details when it comes to how it functions from within), this remains a very intriguing work that sees Berger taking advantage of many different ideas and perceptions around the church, using them as the foundation for this provocative voyage into the backstage activities of one of the world’s oldest and most powerful institutions. A purely conjectured work that may not bear too much accuracy, but still provides a solid amount of entertainment, Conclave is a fascinating look into the inner machinations of the Vatican City and its various occupants, particularly when they are put into a state of crisis, forced to take sides to make sure the church reflects their values and ambitions, setting aside the supposed unity that they preach to their congregations, but have very little issue in dismissing when it comes to their interests. Daring and unconventional in many ways, but still driven by the intention to be entirely enthralling as its primary motive, Conclave is a solid, entertaining political thriller anchored by terrific performances, striking imagery and a sense of curiosity that draws us in and holds our attention, proving to be a well-crafted drama that is as insightful and it is genuinely enjoyable.