All hail Saint Maud, the first major horror film to be released in UK theatres since the lockdown. With a prime release date in the spooky month and critical praise, should you be summoned to your local cineplex for a meeting with the Maud?
Having recently found God, Maud, a young nurse, arrives to care for the wealthy Amanda who has become incapacitated through chronic illness. But as the seemingly sweet Maud's dark past begins to follow her into the new life he built for herself, it's not long before the darkness threatens to take over again. In her feature-length directorial debut, Rose Glass crafts a provocative horror that scintillates from beginning to end.
Saint Maud is perhaps this most unnerving horror film this side of Hereditary. Masterfully drawing out suspense through its expertly crafted sound design and steadfast understanding that, often, less is more, Saint Maud burrows under your skin before you even realise it has you in its grasp. Reflective of the way in which Maud's obsession has engulfed and transitioned from devout to radicalised with no clear signifying moment, a notable amount of Saint Maud's power lies in its unpredictableness, the mercurial energy of the titular character similarly captured in the film's structure and narrative.
Glass' screenplay does not shy away from its religious themes, but also exploits fears of existentialism and loneliness, intrinsically linked to its mental health, for a powerful examination of the human condition. Despite wading into these potentially controversial themes, Glass treats her material both provocatively intelligently, and places as much concentration in the character as its themes, orchestrating a complex and stirring character study wrapped in chilling, nerve-wracking clothing.
Likewise, her direction crackles over the course of its lean 83-minute runtime, wringing out a dark and throbbing atmosphere that rarely relies on conventions or tropes for a more richly rewarding picture. In retrospect, the ending is an inevitable one but shocking in the moment, due to the steady building that culminates in a shocking crescendo laced with powerful imagery that burns into your mind. It packs more than a punch, having the potential to go down as one of the most genre endings.
In her first leading role, Morfydd Clark astonishes with her stunning control of Maud, perfectly measuring the spiral that facilitates her pilgrimage. Her nuanced approach adds layers and ambiguity; a more overt, and arguably less skilled, actress would likely strip Saint Maud of its restraint, but Clark's brooding performance retains the screenplay's secrets and surprises. Jennifer Ehle is also impressive, playing against - and aggravating - Clark early on in a way that teases Maud's troubled history and emphasises the confliction between faith and obsession that will soon envelop her.
Saint Maud's prickles in suspense and intensity, avoiding the conventions and cliches that have often held back the genre, in search of something that leaves a more lasting mark. Preferring atmosphere and mood over screams and jump scares, Saint Maud is intelligent genre filmmaking whose effects will linger longer than most of its stablemates. Thank you for blessing us, Maud.
Summary: Rose Glass' provocative screenplay and taut direction, matched with Morydd Clark's excellent performance, marks both as talents to watch, together turning in one of the most skin prickling horrors in some time with Saint Maud.