There are some topics that are naturally more suitable to the cinematic form, based on their universality and the fact that we can usually relate to them thoroughly in one way or another. However, there are also those that are the inverse – regardless of how hard one may try, it’s very difficult to explore them on screen, at least in terms of finding common ground with an audience. Nothing tends to divide the global community more than religion, for reasons that don’t even require an explanation – and as a result, we rarely find films that examine the topic extensively enough while also having widespread appeal. The general consensus is that faith-based films either need to be scathing and critical about certain subjects to have mainstream appeal or should just exist as their own niche genre, enjoyed by those who align with a particular religion but remain mostly unremarkable to those outside of the group. When deciding to make a film about Ann Lee, the founder of the Shakers’ religious movement, we have to wonder whether Mona Fastvold was actively trying to subvert what has essentially been a decades-long trend of avoiding exploring religion in too much detail, or if she was simply compelled by the material enough to take such a notable risk. This is the foundation of her sophomore directorial outing, The Testament of Ann Lee, or the Woman Clothed by the Sun (the full title being a perfect encapsulation of the bold ideas situated right at the heart of this film), which follows the life of the titular character, a mild-mannered woman in Manchester in the early 18th century who would eventually become one of the most influential Christian leaders of her era. A film as bold and provocative as the subject matter it sets out to explore, The Testament of Ann Lee (which Fastvold developed in conjunction with her personal and professional partner Brady Corbet, with whom she also collaborated on The Brutalist last year) is an astonishing achievement – layered, complex and difficult to comprehend at first glance, but which instead lingers with the viewer long after it has ended, the film sets out to engage critically in some deep, challenging conversations, the likes of which even the most eloquent of minds cannot condense into a single discussion.

Whether or not someone is aware of the history of the Shaker movement is not all that relevant when stepping into The Testament of Ann Lee, since Fastvold does exceptionally well in explaining the sect and its foundation, as laid down by the titular character, who acts as our entry point into this narrative. Whatever drew the director to this material is not clear, but considering her previous work has explored the past and its complexities in vivid detail, she was likely attracted to the idea of exploring a figure whose life may have been short, but had many fascinating qualities that make for a profoundly beautiful story of how faith manifests in unexpected ways. The core of this denomination is both intrinsically tied to classical values associated with Christianity – undying devotion, celibacy and pacifism – while also being extremely unique in how devotees practice their faith, which mainly emerged through convulsing movements and haunting gospel songs, making the expression of their faith striking musical performances in which they abandon all inhibitions and surrender wholeheartedly to their ongoing devotion to their beliefs. The focus here is not on determining whether or not their faith is legitimate, since there is so much more to unpack in how this film portrays religion as a communal experience. The entire story is shrouded in some deeply mystical undertones, with Ann Lee being positioned as someone whose own devotion came from a place of sincere fear, rather than simply wanting to be a leader; her position as a prophet emerges organically and ultimately becomes something of a burden for her. This is directly tied to the idea of religion being both a form of constraint and liberation, depending on how one perceives faith and how it is practiced – for those seeking equality and a more simple way of life, the Shaker ideology is a step towards freedom, whereas its strict conventions surrounding celibacy and stringer practices force its followers into a state of conformity that clashes with our natural human instincts. Whether or not Fastvold was intending to make a film that served as a critique of organised religion is not clear, but we do find its efforts to contrast Ann Lee’s spirituality and her grassroots campaign to promote a closer, more visceral relationship with God to be fascinating, especially in those moments where we see it critiquing the rigid nature of mainstream churches and their immovable, outdated rules against which Ann Lee and her community adamantly rebelled.

Yet, one of the reasons we can appreciate The Testament of Ann Lee beyond its religious overtones is precisely because it doesn’t restrict itself to only being an exploration of how the titular figure founded a religious movement. This is fascinating on its own, but not enough to justify an entire film on its own. The further we move into this film, the clearer it becomes that Fastvold was not solely focused on exploring this particular sect and how it functioned, but a range of other ideas that emerge organically in the process. While it isn’t noted as such (and it would be a massive disservice to this film if we implied it was the overall intention), the story does portray religion as a social experiment of sorts, showing how it can reshape communities and redefine entire socio-cultural systems. This is woven into the narrative through the story of how Ann Lee and her disciples went from England to the newly discovered colonies across the Atlantic, a mystical place where they joined early settlers in laying the foundation of what would eventually become America. Usually, the pioneers who voyaged across the ocean to start new colonies are shown as valiant tales of bravery and the desire to take advantage of the New World. The Testament of Ann Lee reframes the American Dream to be far more simple, but just as elusive to the characters – instead of material wealth and power that collectively are viewed as the hallmark of success (and usually where individuality is a priority), the Shakers aspire to a more collective and modest existence, where their new home represents a rebirth. Everything in this film is aligned with conversations around the spiritual, so to look at Ann Lee as the figurehead of an alternate model of America’s founding is an ambitious endeavour, particularly in how Fastvold consistently draws our attention to the lingering tension between ideals and reality, where the promise of a peaceful, joyous life is constantly undercut by disease, conflicts both internally and outside their community, and violence wrought on them by those who don’t quite align with their ideals.

What we do find drawing us towards the story being told here is the modesty of its themes – not only in how it views the Shakers as a peaceful group who built their devotion around pacifism and community, but also in the way that their leader was very different from other religious visionaries. Ann Lee was a simple woman whose devotion was built from nothing but her desire to forge a closer relationship with her faith, which led her to take charge of a movement that would play a vital role in establishing American society. Fastvold works very closely with Amanda Seyfried, who delivers what I truly consider to be a career-defining performance as the titular character. To call a performance brave is often the last resort when needing to describe an actor doing very strong, emotionally-charged work, and it’s rarely actually encompassing any real courage on their part. Seyfried is one of the exceptions – her work here is astonishing, and the way she bares her soul in every frame is going to be what defines her as a performer in every project she makes going forward. Even those who already were confident in her skills will likely find The Testament of Ann Lee to be an exhilarating, revelatory experience, which is only made more effective by the fact that she never resorts to the kind of heavy-handed hysterics that we may expect. Ann Lee is portrayed as a simple woman with strong values, and at no point is there any suggestion that she allowed influence to change her attitude towards her community and their surroundings, whether in their original homes or the new colonies where they intend to spread their beliefs to anyone who will listen. The characterisation of the protagonist is constantly fascinating, and where most of the strengths of this film emerge – she’s viewed as a figure of femininity, but the kind that is more subtle and human, which is nonetheless still challenging to the patriarchal standards that define both religious institutions and society as a whole. Seyfried commits to this part with every fibre of her being, her body, voice and movements showing a woman carrying the weight of the world on her shoulders. It’s extraordinary work from an actor whom we’ve all appreciated in the past, but never truly were able to see deliver such a staggering, monumental performance until now.

Fastvold is not only a fantastic storyteller (and while she has not directed enough to make too bold a proclamation, there’s a chance she could become one of the defining figures in historical filmmaking if both this and The World to Come are indicators of both her talent and passion for certain subjects), but also a brilliant visual stylist. The aesthetic and aural approach that we find situated at the core of The Testament of Ann Lee is truly unlike anything we’ve seen before. It plays less like a mainstream period drama and more like a small, intimate production that has been lost to time, and which we stumble upon by accident, invited to step into this beguiling, unsettling version of the past in which all illusion of history being defined by beautiful, idyllic landscapes is extinguished in favour of a visceral, harrowing exploration of this era. Fastvold works laboriously to capture the spirit of the time and place – there is a lot of detail in how the past is recreated visually, which can sometimes be quite disconcerting based on how carnal the director’s approach is. The past was not a happy place, and we see this reflected in every frame – the colourless architecture contrasted with mud-covered landscapes does not instill in us a sense of whimsy or wonder, and instead situates us right in the heart of this period, showing how Ann Lee and her community were driven to seek out prosperity, only to be met with a new home that is visually striking, but still quite perilous. The interweaving of the natural world (especially in the portions set in the newly-founded America, where a lot of the story takes place outdoors) with the manufactured creates yet another dichotomy that Fastvold develops quite effectively. The film is also unexpectedly a musical – this aligns with the practice of the Shakers to deliver their worship in the form of song and dance, but not the kind of joyful celebrations we usually expect. Instead, their performances are dark, harrowing and visceral, the bodies of the congregation flailing and whipping around in a way that feels both earthly and uncanny. The film is not afraid to instil a sense of discomfort in the viewer, and while the movements may be amusing at first, any sense of sardonic joy we get from watching their display of devotion quickly disappears as we become more focused on witnessing the gorgeous but unsettling unravelling of this story and its multitude of complex ideas.

There are simply too many layers lingering beneath the surface of The Testament of Ann Lee to even begin to think any discussion on its own can be sufficient in describing the scope of this film and its many astonishing, challenging ideas. Yet, Fastvold proves that she is a brilliantly inventive, daring filmmaker whose ideas may seem rudimentary at first, but have a complexity and uniqueness that sets them apart from any other attempts to explore similar territory. It’s a film very difficult to comprehend – the questions are challenging, the answers impossible, and for every moment we believe we’ve found some clue to decode the many complex ideas lingering beneath the surface, there are a dozen more mysteries that we encounter. Ultimately, the film suggests that faith is more than just following a particular doctrine – it is lived through daily practices and through sacrifices of both the body and soul, where dogma is more of a guideline than a way of life. Ann Lee stands as a folkloric figure – a woman adored but feared in life, revered and reviled in death, the mother of a spiritual movement that advocated for a stronger relationship between Christians and the god they prayed to in the hopes of receiving whatever reward they believed was waiting for them in the afterlife. Religion remains a tricky subject to explore, and The Testament of Ann Lee does not make it any easier to understand. However, Fastvold uses religion as an entry-point into discussing an alternative kind of American identity, one not built on those common tropes we usually see defining the colonial era, and more one that is challenged and villainised, shown to be destructive systems built on manipulation and greed. The religious expression at the heart of The Testament of Ann Lee is designed to showcase an antidote to American radicalism – and never before has this been more relevant, as the fears and anxieties about an uncertain future are displayed in this film. Beautifully made and extraordinarily unsettling, The Testament of Ann Lee is a masterful musical drama that tackles intimidating subjects with poise, elegance and genuine curiosity, the results being both deeply disturbing and relentlessly sincere, a combination that we could never have anticipated at the start.