CIFF 2022 | ‘The Great Silence’ review: A great snoozefest
Katrine Brocks’s debut feature about faith and forgiveness starts out strong, but soon falls into staid, illogical shambles.
Kristine Kujath Thorp in “The Great Silence.” Photo courtesy of Monolit Film ApS.
“We’re like God’s secretaries. We convey the message, and the rest is up to him.”
So says novitiate nun Alma (Kristine Kujath Thorp), a troubled woman finally settling into monastic life as she devotes herself to God — and donates the last of her family inheritance to the convent she lives in. But all is soon upturned when her estranged half-brother Erik (Elliott Crosset Hove) storms into her sanctuary, demanding his “share” of the bequest.
Taking advantage of the nuns’ creed to welcome strangers, Erik moves into the convent’s spare bedroom and begins menacing Alma and her sisters; openly ogling the youngest novitiate, littering crumpled cigarette butts on hallowed ground, and sabotaging Alma’s readiness for her final vows in the eyes of the abbess. When it becomes clear that nothing will deter Erik from taking what he believes is his, Alma is forced to reckon with her own dark past as the safety of her new life is threatened.
“The Great Silence” is a cornucopia of eye-catching visual metaphors; there really is no shortage of striking symbolism in Katrine Brocks and co-writer Marianne Lentz’s screenplay. An elderly nun slowly pieces together a jigsaw puzzle of Michelangelo’s “Creation of Adam,” but only its touching hands, isolated and disembodied, are complete. A watercolour painting of the Virgin Mary goes wrong as a stray drop of black paint spreads and obscures one eye. Huge patches of black mould lurk on the ceiling of the convent while the nuns angelically sing their vespers beneath the festering mess. It’s clear from the outset that great care has been taken in assembling the film’s atmosphere, and for the first half of the film, at least, it all comes together perfectly.
The film’s narrative buildup is nothing short of electrifying, and culminates in a tense, feverish final act that will undoubtedly rile viewers in their seats. But neither does it do much to actually resolve the trauma and regret simmering between the siblings. What we get instead is a slow, dull, and illogical denouement after a misleading anticlimax halfway through the film. Somewhere further along, there is even an unwelcome tone shift towards psychological horror that is nothing but jarring, and does too little, too late. Kujath Thorp and Hove’s performances are both powerfully impressive (and may even prove to be the best of this year’s film festival circuit), but they still fall short of redeeming a story that far overstays its welcome, even at a slim runtime of 95 minutes.
Perhaps there is one thing that “The Great Silence” does get right. Compare Alma’s vision of herself as nothing more than a glorified secretary to Erik’s outburst in the face of his sister’s religious platitudes — “You prayed for me? Okay. It was nice of you to have God take care of it since you couldn’t be there.” At the heart of both self-flagellating piety and brazen atheism lies nothing but powerlessness, and “The Great Silence” demonstrates a deep, sympathetic understanding of this. In a world gone wrong, some lie to others, and some lie to themselves. Why, then, is forgiveness so hard to find? Even if you take nothing else away from the rest of the film, you’ll be sure to stay chewing on that question long after the film’s triumphant final shot has faded to black.
“The Great Silence” receives its North American premiere at the 58th Chicago International Film Festival on October 19, 2022.
