Conclave (London Film Festival 2024) (Review)


Edward Berger swaps the trenches of World War One for an altogether different kind of battlefield in Conclave, the follow-up to his crossover success, All Quiet On The Western Front. Starring Ralph Fiennes as the Cardinal tasked with organising the election of the successor of the recently-deceased Pope, Conclave traversers the cutthroat battle for power and the personal sacrifices we are willing to make for progress in the screen adaptation of Robert Harris' novel of the same name.

As we begin to reflect on the politically charged year 2024 has been to date, with an all-important match still to settle, we welcome another slate of films seeking to commentate on the fraught state of the world's political stage. An allegorical procedural as intense as it is intelligent, Conclave sets the scene for an enthralling and sophisticated return for director Edward Berger, who demonstrates a remarkable ability to imbue an unrelenting intensity that grips from open to close. Absorbing us - nay, sequestering us - in a world of gameplay, Berger's meticulous attention to detail and steady-handed approach keep us engaged in its skillfully crafted atmosphere for it to play out in, wonderfully supported by Volker Bertelmann's evocative score, dispatched tremendously to aid the rising and falling suspense, and Stéphane Fontaine's slick cinematography which strongly stages the political battles.

Adapted for the screen by Peter Straughan, Conclave's screenplay does well to familiarise us with both the process and the players. Heady exercises such as this can often feel bogged down by unsatisfying contrivances, but conveyed with fascination in the process, mostly borne from the parallels it draws to our own, Straughan executes it with real proficiency. Conclave's potent mix of strongly-written dialogue, poignant themes and pulsating tension benefit from the well-dispensed moments of comedic reprieve, landing on some of the funniest line readings and actions - a notable highlight is the crowning moment of the otherwise under-utilised Isabella Rossellini. If the screenplay fails to burrow deep enough to explore a terrorist-related subplot, the veil of mystery surrounding it does feed in well to the isolation of the election process. 

Ralph Fiennes commands the screen as Lawrence, with an utterly transfixing performance that sinks its teeth into you for the duration. Powerful and always poised, you find yourself unable to take your eyes off him, the complexity of Fiennes gradually revealing itself in the subtleties and precision of his exemplary work. There's a calculation to his actions that, in less skilled hands, could easily read as a disreputable characteristic, but because Fiennes conveys such intricacy in Lawrence's actions, it always reads far more fascinating than that. Stanley Tucci provides sturdy supporting work, as does Jon Lithgow, but this is such an impressive vehicle for Fiennes and he's rarely been better.

Conclave's final twist will perhaps be the film's most divisive talking point for conflicting reasons. Thematically, a sharply relevant point that often our strongest contenders on a political level are the ones who need help to get their foot in the door, it is distractingly underwritten by the clunky reveal and its illogicality, missing the well-intentioned mark entirely. Sadly optimistic, such a crucial narrative development simply places too much faith in humanity to see past their own importance of opinion, robbing the film of some of the credibility it did so well to imbue.

As our own political landscape demonstrates no sign of composure, Conclave operates as a reminder that, often, those seeking power are the least trustworthy and deserving of it - particularly as the spectral fear of a second Trump legacy looms and the UK attempts to recover from 14 painful years of Conservative leadership. It's upsetting that Conclave's concluding optimism hinders some of its relevancy and integrity, certainly on a cinematic level, but more importantly on a human level. Otherwise, the impressive exploration of faith, trust and power reverberating from the religious setting to our own lives makes Edward Berger's Conclave a sleekly executed, thought-provoking and gripping endeavour.