Come for the Catholicism, stay for the Mean Girls cafeteria scenes.
Power, secrets, and the weight of impossible decisions lie at the heart of Conclave, a tense political thriller that brings Robert Harris’ riveting novel to life with stylish intensity. Set entirely within Vatican City, the film thrives on the claustrophobic atmosphere of a gathering where the stakes couldn’t be higher — choosing the next head of the Catholic Church. With a powerful ensemble cast and deft direction, Conclave dives deep into the drama, intrigue, and fragile alliances that dictate the course of this Game of Papal Thrones as the Vatican turns into the House Of Cardinals.
Conclave finds its focal point in Cardinal Thomas Lawrence (Ralph Fiennes), the dutiful but doubtful Dean of the College of Cardinals who reluctantly finds himself in the position of overseeing the election of the new Pope and finds himself caught between the demands of tradition, his own moral compass, and the secrets and plots that begin to emerge within the conclave. Fiennes delivers a nuanced performance, showcasing the turmoil of Cardinal Lawrence as he faces mounting pressure from factions within the Vatican, each vying for influence amid the simmering tension of an election where the very destiny of the church seems to hang in the balance.
The dividing lines are drawn between the two factions of the Catholic church, the liberal modernisers and the conservative traditionalists. The early favourite is the standard bearer for the modernisers, Stanley Tucci’s Cardinal Bellini, a man whose ambitions and convictions prove to be more ambiguous than you might want in a pontiff and when he fails to emerge amongst the leaders during the first vote, suddenly the situation becomes a great deal more uncertain. Seeking to take advantage of the fractured liberal caucus is Cardinal Tedesco (Sergio Castellitto), a firebrand traditionalist who seeks not only to halt the church’s drift towards modern ideas but actively reverse them. But even he is blindsided by the rapid ascent of fellow conservative Cardinal Adeyemi (Lucian Msamati), a popular Nigerian candidate whose traditionalist views and charismatic presence make him a formidable candidate to become the first black Pope. Standing aloof from the factions is the final big key figure of the conclave, Cardinal Tremblay, played with an oily politicality by John Lithgow. Tremblay’s almost Trumpian tactics of denial, deflection and double-dealing corruption provide a febrile backdrop just as the outside world starts to intrude on the cloistered sequestration of the papal conclave.
Amidst this most civil of civil wars, Isabella Rossellini plays Sister Agnes, the no-nonsense head housekeeper for the cardinals, whose observations and pointed interjections provide crucial turning points for the power struggles unfolding beneath the fancy hats and ceremonial protocol. Conclave is careful not to explicitly side with one faction or the other, showing a darker side to both as they plot and scheme their way to power. Even Fiennes’ mettle is tested as personal sympathies vie with ethical principles.
The screenplay, adapted by Peter Straughan, remains faithful to Harris’ novel while adding a cinematic flair. The dialogue is sharp, with the veteran cast relishing the cut and thrust of the Papal politicking as ploy and counter ploy is played out in a game where every piece doesn’t need to move diagonally but most of the moves are crooked nonetheless. It masterfully captures the intersection of faith, ambition, and morality, inviting the audience to scrutinise the delicate balances of power that exist within even the most outwardly eternal of institutions.
Visually, Conclave is a study in contrasts. The traditional opulence of the cardinal couture is juxtaposed against the sombre modernity of the cardinals’ seclusion, effectively underlining the trappings and isolation of power. The set design and cinematography combine to create a sense of both grandeur and confinement, reflecting the paradox of wielding immense influence while being cloistered away from the world you seek to have power over. The cinematography is rich with shadow and light, enhancing the suffocating air of tension that pervades every moment of the film. Edward Berger keeps the pacing measured but meticulous, never hurried but inexorably moving towards its shocking conclusion.
Speaking of which, I know there’s a lot going on at the moment, but given the lack of performative outrage at this film’s controversial conclusion, I have to wonder if everyone at the real Vatican is asleep at the wheel? Or is the lack of noisy protest a sign that professional pearl-clutchers the world over have finally got wise to the Streisand Effect? Truly a miracle for our time.
