Writer-director Mona Fastvold is interested in how one person’s uncompromising vision ignites devotion in lesser mortals. In The Brutalist, which she co-wrote with her partner and that film’s director Brady Corbet, the case study was a fictional Jewish architect who survived the Holocaust and introduced modernist buildings to America.
This time the case study is the real-life 18th-century female Shaker evangelist Ann Lee. And once again the score for this genre-defying – what to call it – biopic historic musical is by the extraordinary composer Daniel Blumberg, who won an Oscar for The Brutalist and might yet win another for this one.
The film follows Lee’s life in pre-Industrial Manchester and then America as the War of Independence looms. So relentless is the depiction of her suffering and stoicism, the film prompts gratitude to be living in a century of relative peace, plenty and healthcare. No punches are pulled when depicting the physical hardships of Lee’s life, particularly the agonising births and deaths of her four babies. Though her suffering may not have been unusual for the time, her response to it was.
American actress Amanda Seyfried plays the title role with palpable commitment. Her eyes burn with belief as she describes the visions that appeared to her while on hunger strike in a Manchester prison. The images of serpents and of Adam and Eve at the moment of their fall can only mean that she is God’s chosen representative on Earth. More convincingly, and with an incredible pioneering spirit, Lee preaches that because humans were made in the image of God, the messiah can be either a woman or a man, though she ruins it slightly with the edict that sex is a sin, much to the consternation of her husband, a blacksmith like her father.
This unwavering belief propels her and just eight followers to America, travelling on a rickety ship that would have sunk in a storm had a miracle wave not slammed against the hull, pushing a loose plank back into place.
However, what makes this film feel veer refreshingly away from historical drama is the unexpected use of movement and music. Choreographer Celia Rowlson-Hall has taken her lead from the rituals of Shaker prayer in which congregants rhythmically pulsate as they intone hymns and prayers. The synchronised result is as well-drilled as any chorus line but has the eery air of being possessed.
Blumberg, meanwhile, was inspired by a dozen traditional melodies and has come up with a haunting score that drifts into sweet folk music. That the songs feel out of time is exactly right for a film that is not really interested in historical fact. More important is art inspired by a singular vision.
The Testament of Ann Lee
Cert 15
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