Producers: Tessa Ross, Juliette Howell, Michael A. Jackman, Robert Harris and Alice Dawson Director: Edward Berger Screenplay: Peter Straughan Cast: Ralph Fiennes, Stanley Tucci, John Lithgow, Isabella Rossellini, Sergio Castellito, Lucian Msamati, Carlos Diehz, Brian F. O’Byrne, Jacek Koman, Merab Ninidze, Thomas Loibl, Loris Loddi, Bruno Novelli and Balkissa Maiga Distributor: Focus Features
Grade: B
A potboiler is a potboiler, however classily it’s presented, and “Conclave,” based on a 2016 thriller by prolific novelist Robert Harris, certainly is one. It’s a pulpy mystery set around the machinations of cardinals of the Catholic Church as they engage in choosing a new pope. Filled with ambitious prelates and a host of dark secrets, and featuring a parade of twists that would do Agatha Christie proud, it’s treated by director Edward Berger, production designer Suzie Davies, costumer Lily Christi, cinematographer Stephane Fontaine, editor Nick Emerson, composer Volker Bertelmann and a distinguished cast with all the dignified solemnity they can muster.
But the movie’s essential goofiness renders it just a higher-toned cousin to Dan Brown’s books, and the best way to enjoy it is as an ecclesiastical version of a “Knives Out” puzzler. If you appreciate its underlying comic spirit, it can be fun despite its absurdity.
Things begin with the death of the current pope (Bruno Novelli), a serene liberal (apparently more Francis than Benedict), of apparently natural causes. It’s left to the Dean of the College of Cardinals, Thomas Lawrence (Ralph Fiennes), to arrange the convocation of male red-hats who will elect his successor. Though Lawrence has some support himself, he reveals to Cardinal Bellini (Stanley Tucci), the man he prefers, that he had approached the late pope with a request to resign but been refused; he admits that he has personal doubts about his faith, though he goes into no specifics. (If you’ll pardon the reference, you can call him Doubting Thomas.)
There quickly emerge several top candidates, or papabili. One is Bellini, a veteran Vatican diplomat and a liberal who was a close friend of the deceased pope and claims not to want the job. But he’s so hostile to another popular choice, flamboyant, volatile ultra-traditional Cardinal Tedesco (Sergio Castellito), that his drive to win quickly becomes all-consuming. Then there are Cardinal Adeyami (Lucian Msamati), the apostolic major penitentiary who would be the first pope from Africa and whose views fall between those two, and Cardinal Tremblay (John Lithgow), a Canadian who was the late pope’s chamberlain.
As the cardinals, more than a hundred in number, are sequestered to begin the electoral process, there’s a surprise arrival: an unknown new member, Cardinal Benitez (Carlos Diehz), a Mexican cleric who had served in social welfare capacities in global danger zones and was appointed as Archbishop of Kabul secretly by the deceased pope. Despite hesitancy on the part of some of his colleagues, Lawrence urges his acceptance by the college.
Once the doors are closed, however, other incidents disturb the Dean’s careful planning. A nun (Balkissa Maiga) serving under Sister Agnes (Isabella Rossellini), who’s charged with seeing to the cardinals’ needs, enters the dormitory in which they’re housed for the duration; her presence causes rumors to circulate, which Lawrence feels compelled to investigate. Just as troubling is a report that comes to the Dean at the last minute from an archbishop (Jacek Koman) who was in charge of the papal household, claiming that the pope’s final meeting, with Tremblay had been contentious—something the cardinal, and another witness, staunchly deny. Once again Lawrence feels compelled to break protocol and search for the truth, using his aide Monsignor O’Malley (Brian F. O’Byrne) as his conduit to the outside world. In the end the Dean discovers secrets he would prefer not to have done.
And the outside world intrudes violently in the closed conclave as terrorist bombings shatter the peace in Europe, including Rome itself. An anti-Islamic rant by Tedesco, whose attitude toward tolerance is stern under the best of circumstances (think Pius IX), is met by a gentle rebuke from Benitez that has a profound effect on the assembly. But that is topped by a closing revelation that suggests that the late pope, a reformist whose efforts had prodded things forward only at the speed of the turtles he kept as pets in the Vatican ponds (thus moveth the church), had shrewdly arranged matters to ensure that the pace would accelerate after his departure.
By way of comparison to other films in which papal conclaves play a significant role, this one is certainly the best, especially if one doesn’t take it too seriously. But the competition is, to put it mildly, not strong. The best-known rival, Michael Anderson’s 1968 “The Shoes of the Fisherman,” based on Morris West’s novel, is stodgy and preachy, and, despite a game cast, badly acted. “Conclave” makes its ideology no less blatant—liberals basically good, conservatives (Tedesco rabidly so in every respect, and Adeyami retrograde on social issues) if not bad, at least misguided. But despite very deliberate pacing it maintains tension throughout its two-hour running-time, largely by reason of the fact that it’s a contraption built by Harris and screenwriter Peter Straughan for suspense, and the plot’s twists and turns keep viewers on their toes. It also delivers well-calibrated crowd-pleasing moments, especially ones where Sister Agnes, in the person of the redoubtable Rossellini, breaks the taboo that women are to remain inconspicuous in such august clerical company.
It’s also blessed with an exceptional cast. Fiennes anchors the picture with a beautifully nuanced turn in which almost infinitesimal gestures can speak volumes, and while Tucci and Lithgow have more limited opportunities, both are wonderfully controlled. Msamati’s character is more voluble and Castellito’s positively over-the-top, but both provide what the plot demands, while Diehz exhibits the requisite mysterious serenity.
“Conclave” rejoices in dealing cheekily with the politics within the Vatican, but it won’t escape viewers that similar circumstances are to be found in all seats of power: overweening ambition exists everywhere. By using a papal election as a microcosm of larger world realities, Berger’s film succeeds as both a critique of clerical chicanery and a warning that no institution is free of corruption and scandal.