It would be very strange if, say, Tesco in Montrose announced the appointment of a new general manager by blowing smoke out of the ventilation shafts. Nevertheless the Catholic Church famously uses exactly this mechanism to post the outcome of the “conclave”, an archaic and quite bizarre process for selecting its new boss. In 2005, the “Sun” newspaper developed the concept into the digital era, “liking” a third term for Tony Blair’s Labour government by releasing red smoke from the publisher’s chimney after an editorial conclave to ponder the shortlisted candidates.
What to make of a movie about the conclave? I should preface my comments by stating upfront that I have had no formal training in criticism, am not a filmmaker and I accepted an offer to write occasional reviews for the Montrose Playhouse based on, well, what interests me. While considering my own lack of experience, it seemed obvious to start by writing about candidate selection in perhaps the most exclusive men-only club in the world.
The recruitment process seems to work something like this. The incumbent pope dies. A group of elderly male cardinals in identical costumes sit silently in a room and vote for each other repeatedly until one of their number gets enough votes to win. That would make for quite an uninteresting movie so a number of catches have been added. The room (also called the Sistine Chapel) is sealed, so that even when a bomb goes off immediately outside, cardinals are not to be told about it, lest it influences one of them to change their vote. Meanwhile, back inside the conclave, all sorts of gossip, rumour, tittle tattle, and “don’t tell anyone I told you, but …” is shaken all over the cardinals to see what sticks for the purpose of, well, influencing their votes. And the final catch is that none of the candidates is actually interviewed for the job – they just sit there looking at each other, speaking a few magic words of Latin while pushing their ballot paper through a letter box made of a terracotta shaped pot with a metal saucer on top.
Along the way the audience deduces that what appears to preoccupy the Church is in equal proportion to not bothering anyone else much – gays, previous girlfriends, children outside marriage, whether or not the mass is said in Latin. Oh and naturally enough (perhaps the best line in the movie) “Let’s not mention women!”
All that said, “Conclave” is fun and incredibly absorbing. The setup feels like an Agatha Christie. A sealed room and the body of a dead pope. I thought the plot was going to revolve around one of the cardinals being found dead, or perhaps who murdered the pope, but that’s not it. “Conclave” develops instead into a cloyingly claustrophobic movie, the momentum (especially in the second half) maintained by twist after twist until two final surprises within the last ten minutes.
The forementioned identical costumes are in fact utterly gorgeous. Perfectly fitted cardinal-scarlet cassocks worn underneath a white cotta and an identical deep-red shorter outermost robe (the mozzetta) and a matching skull cap (the zucchetto, both words I had to look up). The details on the robes and robing etiquette quite exquisite: there is a particularly hilarious scene where the Cardinal Dean (responsible for the smooth running of the process, and played by Ralph Fiennes) was in the process of being dressed by a flunkey, it being quite unbecoming of the HR manager to dress himself.
This movie was released at the Playhouse shortly after another dealing with the Catholic Church, “Small Things Like These”, this time set in Ireland.
Set in a small town overshadowed physically and emotionally by an abusive convent, “Small Things …” is a slow, lightly dialogued film, relentlessly focused on the brutality of poverty. It too trades in secrets – how power in Catholicism is used to cover up scandal and hinting at the repeated abuse of highly vulnerable women. Both are adaptations of books, both feature one prominent male star and more of a cameo from the female lead. Both also feature large numbers of nuns, most of whom have no role to play at all in the drama except as silent workers in the background, and whose interior lives are not explored in either film. While writing this review I wondered why this was.
Still, at right on the 2-hour mark, “Conclave” works just as well for lovers of mystery, subtly dropped hints and clues, paranoia, the historical novel, politics, suspense, just-so delicious detail, the twists and turns thriller, escapism within the hallways and corridors of privilege and power, or just the open minded. No prior knowledge of any sort of religious faith, rubric or ritual is required to jump right in. I left the Playhouse wanting to learn more.
Just don’t forget to watch out for smoke coming out of the supermarket the next time you pass. How else will you know that a new store manager has been told, “You’ve been hired!”
Adam Poole
28 December 2024
