Two young missionaries become ensnared in a deadly game of cat and mouse when they knock on the door of the diabolical Mr. Reed. Trapped in his home, they must turn to their faith if they want to make it out alive.
Some films manage to unsettle you without ever raising their voice. Heretic does just that from the very first frame. It’s a tense, slow-burning thriller where every pause feels deliberate, every line carefully chosen. Almost everything takes place in a single location, but the atmosphere it builds is dense and claustrophobic. And at the center of it all: Hugh Grant.
His performance is mesmerizing. He doesn’t force the fear—he suggests it. The way he looks, smiles, speaks just a bit too slowly—it’s all deeply disturbing. I haven’t seen him this sharp in years, and here he’s far from the charming romantic type people usually associate with him. This time, he’s something else: charisma turned into menace.
The script plays with religious themes without preaching. There are clever lines, uncomfortable questions, and moments where you don’t know whether to laugh or tense up. It often feels like a chamber play, where everything rests on the actors and their subtle choices—and all three leads are outstanding.
Visually, it’s not flashy, but it uses darkness and confined spaces to trap you with the characters. It’s small-scale filmmaking that dares to tackle big themes: faith, guilt, manipulation, power. Not everything lands—perhaps the ending lacks the punch of the opening—but the ride is worth it.
Heretic doesn’t reinvent horror, but it twists it in clever ways. It’s elegant, uncomfortable, and full of shadows. And above all, it reminds us that true horror doesn’t always scream—it whispers.
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