'Immaculata' review: Sydney Sweeney goes wild in nun horror

Drenched in blood and candlelit, Michael Mohan's “Immaculate” disabuses the notion that any conception is always sinless. Starring Sydney Sweeney (who also co-produced the film), this bold, strange and lushly crafted horror film presents itself as a giallo nun-exploitation riff, but the script, by Andrew Lobel, is much more “Rosemary's Baby” than “The Devils.”

Still, Mohan wants “Immaculate” to be an exploitation film and that's why it is an exploitation film, which means he has embellished Lobel's script with texture, atmosphere and viscera, taking the genre seriously while also applying an ironic wit. He leans toward modern horror cinema, but he has the references and deep cinematic knowledge to make “Immaculate” feel more like a long-lost video unpleasantly pulled from an obscure VHS archive.

Sweeney plays Sister Cecilia, a docile, doe-eyed devotee from Detroit who has traveled to Italy at the behest of Father Tedeschi (Álvaro Morte) to take her vows at a secluded convent where she will care for elderly nuns. Soon, surprisingly, she shows symptoms of pregnancy and her uterus vibrates with a hiss under an ultrasound machine. Her spontaneous conception is seen as a miracle, the resurrection of God. She has no choice but to carry this pregnancy to term, surrounded by jealous novices, senile nuns, controlling male leaders, and a secret sect of brotherhood who wear crimson shrouds over her faces.

Sweeney is a marvel to watch as she embarks on Sister Cecilia's journey, transforming from a meek naive into something unexpected and wild, whose godly discipline fades with each indignity. As this quick 89-minute film builds to an absolutely wild climax, we believe him, perhaps most of all in the film's final, jaw-dropping moments, as he embodies a purely animalistic honesty.

As Sweeney tackles Cecilia's journey, her longtime collaborator, Mohan, directs the ever-loving inferno of Lobel's script, drenching every frame in color, light and shadow, sending cinematographer Elisha Christian's camera to sweep over the characters. , coffins and dark hallways. There is an over-reliance on jump scares, which are only intermittently effective because, as audience members, we are trained to expect them (and tire easily if they don't work). However, these fade into the background as the film delves into more effectively suspenseful territory, where Mohan uses darkness and light to intriguing ends.

It's catchy, fun, if not downright terrifying, and if there's a weak link, it's the script, which plays with deeper social and sexual themes but skims the surface and leaves loose ends. While it can be refreshing when a writer doesn't explain too much, there are some plot threads that could have been tightened for a more satisfying narrative.

Still, if some of the mystery elements exist simply to add humor and tone, it's worth it. If certain aspects of convent culture are left unexplored, it is because Sister Cecilia does not have the time or linguistic skills to discover them, and Mohan keeps us trapped in his perspective and subjective experience as an outsider. This strange cult is as mysterious to us as it is to her, as it would be in any good popular horror film.

All of the film's references, including but not limited to Hammer horror, “Frankenstein,” “The Omen,” “The Wicker Man,” and even a shadow of “The Texas Chain Saw Massacre,” eventually coalesce during the climax. of bravura, which turns the script of “Rosemary's Baby” on its head, allowing a kind of inevitable agency that drags “Immaculate” towards a truly modern conception. At that moment, any and all scruples disappear and the only appropriate reaction can be: Bravo.

Katie Walsh is a film critic for the Tribune News Service.