There has been a recent blow-out of media when it comes to contemplative psychological thriller horrors, with the films of Ari Aster (Hereditary and Midsommar) leaping to mind. These are films are often divisive amongst audiences and lauded by critics. Saint Maud is another such film, with 1 star reviews from audiences, with titles including “Dull”, “Dull beyond belief” and “Slow predictable but stylish thriller”. However, I am firmly in the camp that the film is truly not dull in the slightest, with a great pace that never lets up. I feel rather strongly that Saint Maud may just be one of the better films we have had this year (despite the oddity of the year that we have had), with two performances which I have absolutely no doubt about being some of the finest work I’ve seen this year so far.


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The basic plotline of the film follows Maud, a nurse who grows more and more obsessed with saving the soul of her recent private care patient, an ex-contemporary dancer slowly dying of cancer. The film is the feature debut for its writer and director Rose Glass, who in one 84-minute swoop has claimed a firm place in the current crop of exciting British filmmakers. Glass really has brought a film to us that is quite masterful in parts, and although there are some slight fumbling’s when it comes to overall plotting and certain visuals (which came off as a little unintentionally laughable), Glass implements a consistent use of horrific imagery that leads us through this rather unsettling tale of our young nurse. Glass completely puts us inside her head and lets us see and hear absolutely everything she is experiencing. The film very easily could have worked on a base psychological level of “is it real?”, but this film has a lot more on its mind. It is instead a thrilling and deeply unnerving tale of a young woman not necessarily going mad, but rather being wholly consumed by her religious beliefs which she believes have saved her before. Each frame of the film has a modernist quality to it, that never fails to remind us that this is a story set in the present day. In many ways, the film could very easily be seen as a story of a woman consumed by desperate loneliness in a world where everybody else has boundless connection at their fingertips. Glass won the IWC Schaffhausen Filmmaker Bursary award for her work on the film, which was presented to her by Danny Boyle, who described the film as a “genuinely unsettling and intriguing film. Striking, affecting and mordantly funny at times”. Boyle’s comments aptly surmise the dark humour that rears its head a few times in the film, often leading to a brief chuckle, never mind how wrong it feels to do so in the context of the surroundings scenes. The film is, if nothing else, certainly a stunningly accomplished feature directorial debut for Glass. However, the film has plenty more to offer...
There is no doubt in my mind, however, that the true take away from this film is the electric performances of its tow female leads, specifically our titular character of Maud, played so beautifully, so tragically and with such dedication by Morfydd Clark that I really do think she’s a shoo-in for the “horror performance that should have been Oscar nominated but wasn’t because it was a horror film” of the year. Clark, who we previously saw as the grating Clara Copperfield in The Personal History of David Copperfield last year, brings a whole new and more rounded view of her talents to the screen here. Clark shows her capability with extreme physicality’s quite reminiscent of Isabelle Adjani in Possession, as well as the most simple and severe of small moments, beautifully balancing the power and subtlety of both extremes we see throughout the other intermittent scenes. Clark’s capability in the film is really nothing short of sublime and the film is most worth viewing for her performance, as well as that of her co-star Jennifer Ehle as Amanda, her current patient and religious project. There is an early line in the film where one of Amanda’s friends refers to her as “being dangerously close to Norma Desmond”. This is a rather apt description of Ehle’s entire performance, always walking the tightrope of high melodrama and deep naturalistic work. Ehle is similarly sublime in the film and gives it some pitch black levity at certain points, whilst never losing grip on the severity of the character’s current circumstances. There is a certain reveal later in the film where Ehle really gets to "go for it" per se and takes the opportunity with great relish, whilst again never losing the truth and the deeply personal nature of what is occurring to Amanda as she slowly loses her battle to a form of spinal cancer. 

For me, there was a really big influence for the film in the movie Taxi Driver, whether it be conscious or unconscious. With its focus on a character study of a person completely consumed by loneliness, its narration putting us directly into the lead character’s head, its extended scenes following a loner strolling through neon streets and even a brief moment where our lead passes a street performing drummer. It would be naturally redundant to comment that this film isn’t as successful as Taxi Driver, with that of course being one of the finer films ever made. Yet still the film takes these elements and delivers them in its own way, in moments being even more horrific than Scorseses’ 1976 classic, but never as wholly human as it. It was only when I returned home after viewing the film and watched an interview with the director that I found that this was a rather conscious decision with her commenting on the piece saying “try imagining if Travis Bickle was a Catholic woman in a small seaside town”. The film is, of course, far removed from Taxi Driver with its leaning into the horror genre, rather than the crime drama that Taxi Driver is. Although, it was certainly something that I noticed throughout. Glass even manages to make Scarborough feel as evocative as 70s New York, especially in the visual sense, and when she’s not glamourising the beautiful neon, she is making a terrifyingly bleak image of an alley or a footpath. The film walks a fine line, never straying too far into gothic, but teasing us often with glimpses of the genre.
The construction of the film is rather stellar in fact, with its filmic composition often being astounding in some of the visuals it presents, managing to awe even in its most insular or briefest moments. There is always something of note happening in the frame, and although that sometimes leads to some shifty special effects, and sometimes even some nauseating camera work that takes us out rather than taking us further in, the editing of Mark Towns adds to the economy and pace of the film which was blissfully brisk in the midst of so many indulgent horrors of late. However, the film did have a similar problem to most art house horrors I’ve seen in this decade; a little thing I have called the “don’t cut to black” issue. It’s a simple thing where I spend most of the final ten minutes saying to myself “please don’t cut to black, please don’t end on some abstract image because you didn’t know how to end the film properly, please don’t fumble at the final hurdle”. Saint Maud doesn’t exactly fumble, in fact the ‘P.S’ this week will praise the very end of the film rather stunningly. However, the film’s final ten minutes or so do feel rather rushed, which is a shame because the brevity of the 84 minutes really works in its favour when it comes to building a nice pace throughout, so I’m rather caught on whether or not I do actually wish for it to be longer. All of this is underpinned by a great score by Adam Janota Bzowski, perfectly adding suspense and creepiness (for lack of a better word) to a film that’s already dripping in both. All in all, Glass has made a rather fine debut and I very much look forward to the future work she does, specifically whether or not she will return to the world of horror once more or do something completely different. Either way, I wait in great anticipation.

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A shocking and daunting 8/10 horror. With its slight moments of fumbled delivery aside, the film manages to pack quite a punch in its 84 minutes, but mainly serves as an absolutely astounding showcase for lead Morfydd Clark, who gives us moments of horror, humour, and immense pain that really do make this film one of the more effective phycological thrillers of the past few years.

P.S. It is a rarity that a film’s literal final frame can completely change how the film you have just been watching is viewed in your head. Saint Maud is such a film and what a final frame it is. It would be really quite redundant to comment that the film is worth seeing just for that, but it may just be that sensational. And oh so painfully brief.

-Thomas Carruthers