Directed By Mona Fastvold

Starring – Amanda Seyfried, Lewis Pullman, Thomasin McKenzie

The Plot – Ann Lee (Seyfried), the founding leader of the Shaker Movement, proclaimed as the female Christ by her followers. Depicts her establishment of a utopian society and the Shakers’ worship through song and dance, based on real events.

Rated R for sexual content, graphic nudity, violence and bloody images

THE TESTAMENT OF ANN LEE | Official Trailer | Searchlight Pictures

POSITIVES

In terms of musical biopics, “The Testament of Ann Lee” is unlike anything that I’ve ever seen, establishing itself as quickly as the opening shot as this esoterically enriched engagement that spends a majority of its time immersing audiences in the atmosphere of shakers, rather than following a beat-for-beat checklist in the life of its titular protagonist. That’s not to say that the movie isn’t an educationally enlightening experience towards this revolutionary of religion, but rather that Fastvold enlists her talents towards conveying the infectiously whimsical and persisting side of inspiration, where faith is dissected with the same kind of complexity that is typically reserved for characters rather than thematic impulses, conjuring with it an equally responsible depiction of religious fanatics being every bit resiliently unwavering as they are dangerously ignorant. This is especially the case for Ann, who not only gives her entire life towards carrying out God’s mission, right down to sacrificing any semblance of a marriage or life outside of the convent, but also uplifts her patrons spiritually and emotionally in ways that speaks volumes towards their commitment to her, an aspect that is effortlessly interpretable, even to an atheist like me. On top of this, Fastvold’s direction also lends itself invigoratingly with an overall presentation that takes some unique strides towards articulating an environment, with meaningful choices in front of and behind the lens that kept me continuously captivated, even when the storytelling doesn’t always find its stride. For a minimal budget of ten million dollars, it’s downright remarkable what Fastvold brings to the tantalizing table, brandishing 70mm photography with a 2.39:1 aspect ratio, similar to the choice of her co-writer and life partner, Brady Corbet, on last year’s “The Brutalist”, in the impulse to make such an intimate group feel monumentally epic in the scope and scale of its extensive outlining. In addition to this, Fastvold utilizes natural lighting to give the imagery a hauntedly foreboding appeal that legitimately feels like it could play in a horror movie, as well as some highly immersive long take edits during musical sequences, that really allows audiences to lose themselves in the rhythmic pulses of a group who evidently beat together as one cohesive entity. If this isn’t enough, the production lends itself to the authenticity of the depicted period piece with unanimous flying colors, with everything from wardrobe to set designs attaining immaculate detail to the movie’s benefit, allowing not a single second of the 132-minute investment to be stalled by speculative legitimacy that squanders our undivided connection to the film. In particular on the appearances of the costumes and decor, the production pursues validity without the uncanny polishing that sometimes unintentionally comes with some film productions attempting to recreate a distinguished setting, without that lived-in feel of grit to convey the magnitude of its history, and considering that unappealing texture continuously works in this movie’s favor, there isn’t a single frame that feels wasted in the foray of this epic narrative, pulling off the kind of creative consistency that transcends her minimal time in the director’s chair, with this being the third feature length offering of her career. But the real scene-stealer in this movie comes from the combination of Shaker hymns and physical-heavy dance choreography (From “Sinners” Celia Rowlson-Hall) that enchant mesmerizing energy to sequences that feel so spontaneously enacted, despite the magnitude of what those involved muster. The on-site decision of actors singing appraises an unpolished appeal that never feels over-produced in post-production polishing, and the magnitude of the choreography, while too elaborately detailed to fully capture in one single sitting, does articulate this combustible engine of sorts in dynamic that thrives effortlessly within this group, an aspect in energy that intentionally withers once the group receives the eye-opening realities of America during such a segregated time. The commitment to performances also go a long way in bringing the infectious energy of this group to life before our very eyes, particularly Amanda Seyfried and Lewis Pullman, who each are brilliant in their respective turns. While this is obviously a virtual showcase for Seyfried, Pullman more than holds his own in the supporting role as Ann’s brother, commanding an innocence and radiance about the character that makes him a breath of fresh air whenever the narrative decides to even temporarily invest in him, and in a career where the actor has already tackled a barrage of colorful characters and diverse genres, his softly gentle nature here might be the most endearing work of his already impressive career. As for Seyfried, everything that you’ve heard about her powerhouse performance is true, with her boldly big eyes filling each perspective shot with the kind of wonderment in moments of spiritual rapture, and when you combine this with the physicality and exasperating vocalizing paid to her actual vocals lent to musical sequences, you have a sirenic shine that compliments her character’s resiliency terrifically, finding emotional versatility to so many conflicts that nearly condemn the character.

NEGATIVES

Despite as much going for it as any Oscar contender, “The Testament of Ann Lee” is bogged down by an emotionally uninvesting screenplay that makes some truly compromising decisions to the audience’s interpretation, making it difficult to remain compelled or even cohesively in-tuned to what’s transpiring. This is very much a film that tells so much more than it shows, not only with a maintained narration from McKenzie, that mumbles and meanders these lines of dialogue that unintentionally appraise a pretentiousness to her foreshadowing of the storytelling, but also in the consistency of these story beats that are continuously glossed over with the kind of impatience of a complete picture that evidently included far too much to the movie’s finished product, creating peril within the pacing, which resonated most impactfully during the opening act of the movie. While my interests did increase briefly once the film shifts to America, around its halfway point, the scenes and sequences that follow feel like summarizing montages, without the desire to live in these moments with more time to its nearly two-and-a-half hour runtime, a fact that resonates most apparently towards Ann. Not to say that I have a lot in common with the leader of a religious chapter, especially one as conservatively strict as Ann, but the characterization approaches her with the vagueness and distancing of a stranger attempting to do a book report, and while this might feel synthetic in the captivity of these events transpiring from McKenzie’s perspective, an aspect that makes even less sense when you consider she recounts moments where her character wasn’t even present in, it never got me any closer towards engaging or investing in Ann as this compelling source of spiritual or psychological insight, leaving the exploration feeling a bit disconnected from where the majority of its focus and creativity should reside. It certainly doesn’t help that this movie feels every inch of its aforementioned runtime and then some, but it’s all the more glaringly evident that the script’s massive scope is ultimately its biggest downfall, in its surface level exploration on child death, rape, or black background characters that come and go with the impact of a speed bump, and though this is ultimately Ann’s movie, I can’t help but think that Fastvolt and Corbet’s story would be better suited for the series route, especially considering this follow-up doesn’t have half of the shocking reveals or tumultuous triumph as its aforementioned predecessor between the two. On top of this, while I previously commended the production’s decision to film in natural lighting, for the authenticity of the environments, there are a couple of noteworthy moments that are underarticulated by the enveloping shadows, wasting away the rare opportunities to engage its audience with the intensity of a physical conflict. While Fastvolt clearly values herself as a more spiritually introspective storyteller, a feat that she fumbles at repeatedly, the movie shouldn’t be above exploiting in the sensitivity of its subject matter, considering it plays to Ann’s deteriorating psyche, and in a movie with a bounty of breathtaking shots, it’s the ones obscured by the authenticity of their environment that are most condemning, appraising the rare occasion where naturalism intrudes on the integrity of an up-and-coming filmmaker looking to stamp her uniqueness to an overcrowded industry.

OVERALL
“The Testament of Ann Lee” is a hauntingly frantic and stimulatingly stylized musical biopic about a religious leader’s confrontations with convictions, led passionately by Amanda Seyfried’s mesmerizingly impulsive performance giving the character wings. While the film sets itself apart from other genre installments by the abundance of risks that it takes with the structure and material, it’s an overlong and overstuffed exploration that is uninspired by its impatient storytelling, resulting in a wasted opportunity to learn or empathize about a resilient woman who teetered on the brink of her own psychological instability.

My Grade: 7.1 or B-