If you think the American presidential election has been unpredictable, wait’ll you see how capricious things get at the Vatican when the cardinals assemble to choose a new pope in “Conclave.” Adapted from the Robert Harris novel by Edward Berger, who assumes a very different challenge after “All Quiet on the Western Front,” this thinking man’s thriller unfolds like a murder mystery behind the locked doors of the Domus Sanctae Marthae, where the College of Cardinals is cloistered, except no one suspects foul play in the previous pontiff’s death.
Still, intrigues abound as the papabili — those considered next in line for the job, played by such formidable actors as Ralph Fiennes, Stanley Tucci and John Lithgow — pull whatever levers they can to be elected. But “Conclave” obviously concurs with Plato’s adage, “Only those who do not seek power are qualified to hold it,” featuring a host of candidates who seem positively British in their self-effacing humility, side by side with others ambitious enough to sabotage their rivals.
Just when you think you’ve got it figured out, “Conclave” lobs one of the most satisfying twists in years, a Hail Mary that both surprises and restores one’s faith (maybe not everyone’s, but certainly that of the disillusioned). As a rule, movies about living popes — like those made by Gianfranco Rosi, Wim Wenders and Evgeny Afineevsky about Pope Francis in recent years — are intended for devout believers, while movies about the papacy’s transition of power appeal far more broadly, especially to those looking to see their suspicions reinforced about the pettiness and corruption of the curia.
The Catholic Church has a spotty past when it comes to picking pontiffs, so it isn’t such a stretch to find venal, licentious and racist men among the contenders here. They’re all men, of course, since the church remains stubbornly sexist, even as other religions have embraced female leaders — a point that’s definitely not lost on Harris, Berger or screenwriter Peter Straughan (the same brain who adapted “Tinker Tailor Soldier Spy”). “Conclave” addresses that imbalance by casting Isabella Rossellini as the all-seeing Sister Agnes, who bites her tongue for almost two hours, but also knows when to open her mouth.
The unenviable task of trying to corral these strong-willed men for the all-important vote falls to Fiennes’ character, Cardinal Lawrence, who reluctantly serves as dean of the process, relieved to know he will soon be reassigned far from the Holy See. It’s a quietly conflicted performance for Fiennes, who appears ravaged by Lawrence’s internal struggle between devotion and doubt. In private conversations with Cardinal Bellini (Tucci) — the papabile for whom he repeatedly casts his ballot — he admits to the crisis in his own faith. He’s surprised to learn that the late pope had doubts as well; his were with the future of the church, however.
Though “Conclave” plays like a thriller, with disorienting jump cuts and a tense string score to match, what makes it so compelling are its insights into the embattled institution, whose past leaders have included a former member of the Hitler Youth (Pope Benedict XVI) and those who covered up sex abuse cases (Pope John Paul II). Straughan’s script acknowledges as much, and while it’s not as philosophically satisfying as the imagined conversation of “The Two Popes” a few years back, it does articulate — in no fewer than four languages, including Latin — how the church must evolve in order to remain relevant to a fast-evolving world, allowing Benitez (Carlos Diehz), a soft-spoken cardinal from Kabul, of all places, to enlighten the others.
“Conclave” is one of those rare films that respects the audience’s attention, even as it sneaks a few tricks behind their backs, like the way one candidate climbs with each passing vote. But where does that character’s support come from? In any case, we’re more focused on the war of words between the liberal and conservative factions of the church, during which Lawrence wrestles with his conscience. A few of his peers cast their votes for Lawrence, who insists he’s unworthy. Still, he encourages the cardinals to select someone “who sins and asks for forgiveness,” over the charlatan who claims to be pure.
Berger is clearly fascinated by the pomp and protocol of the actual vote-taking, which occurs in the Sistine Chapel (or a convincing replica thereof, built on the stages of Cinecittà). The helmer meticulously depicts how ballots are filled out, folded and ceremoniously deposited into a large silver urn, then counted, bound and burned. The public (never seen) gather beyond the walls, studying the chimney above the Sistine Chapel. Black smoke means the cardinals have not reached a majority. When the smoke turns white, however, the new pontiff has been chosen.
During this fictional conclave, the cardinals find themselves staring out the Vatican windows and seeing smoke in the city around them — an alarming twist on the solemn process. Terrorists are setting car bombs in the piazza outside, which underscores the stakes of the cardinals’ choice. Berger may be German, but he almost certainly considered what “Conclave” has to say about American politics in this moment. Here, the cardinals are surrounded by division, and they can reach for unity or respond with hate. Despondent as Fiennes’ character can be at times, the unexpected way things play out feels almost perfect, like an answered prayer.
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