Agnes
Mickey Reece’s “Agnes” starts off as one thing, but becomes something different. When that turn happens, it’d be understandable if you’re confused, even questioning why it happens, but Reece has a purpose for what his film is doing, and it’s infinitely more compelling than what we initially expect from the movie. At the center of it is questions of faith and life that a single path in life is not able to answer; to try and do so is why a lot of movies on the subject just fail to resonate with me.
When this film’s screener entered my inbox, my wife and I were binge-watching “Castle,” where Molly C. Quinn played Nathan Fillion’s daughter. One of the great things about her on that show was that sometimes she was very much a teenager growing into adulthood, and other times she was more mature than her father. Regardless of what mode Alexis was in, Quinn made us believe it. As Mary, we see a similar ability; she starts out among many at the convent, later established as a friend of the titular character, and finally, away from the life we were introduced to her in. It’s a compelling character piece, which one wouldn’t expect from what seems to start as a possession thriller.
At the start of the film, the nuns of Saint Teresa convent are having dinner, when one of the younger ones, Agnes (Hayley McFarland), has an unexpected, violent outburst. The nuns in charge have her isolated and tied down, concerned that she is possessed by evil. They call the diocese, whom send an older priest (Ben Hall) and an in-training priest (Jake Horowitz) to the convent to investigate. As the film progresses, we focus in on Mary (Quinn), a friend of Agnes’s. Tragedy drove her to the convent, and another one will drive her out of it. Will she be taking anything else with her?
Father Donaghue (Hall) is not a saintly old man like Father Merrick in “The Exorcist,” or a straight-laced believer like the Warrens in “The Conjuring,” which is part of what makes the first half of “Agnes” feel apart from the possession genre. He isn’t completely irreverent, but he certainly toes the line. It makes everyone off guard, and that includes Agnes. This is actually a fairly refreshing take on this story- Donaghue is a realist, and he’s someone who knows he doesn’t have much time left in his current position. Reece and John Selvidge’s screenplay taking an unconventional approach to well-worn territory is one of the most pleasant surprises in the film, and the directorial approach- a visual style that does include flashbacks and quick cuts for shock effect, but also allows scenes to play out in a manner that draws us in- accentuates that. We aren’t watching archetypes and cliches play out, but a narrative that only gets deeper when it makes an abrupt turn towards the real world.
Anyone who looks at the poster, and wants what it seems to promise, will be sorely disappointed before (hopefully) being rewarded with what is a rich look at picking up the pieces after tragedy in Mary. Quinn is fully engaged with showing us the struggle of Mary, while Reece doesn’t look to exploit her. This is about a young woman struggling to find her way in life, and every moment feels as though it takes her further and further away from God. It’s only when she meets a comedian (played by Sean Gunn) that Agnes knew where seems to find some solace, but that inevitably feels short lived. What she knows by the end is that her old life is not able to give her contentment; she’s going to have to figure that out for herself. Whether that includes something supernatural is a bit vague, but it doesn’t make “Agnes” any less compelling.
