Benedetta Review

When I was first made aware of Benedetta, Paul Verhoeven’s latest film, earlier this year, it was pitched to me as a psychosexual story about two nuns in the 17^th century. And while sure, that’s definitely an element of the story – there is absolutely a lesbian love story (and yes, it is a love story and not simply an excuse for furthering of the male gaze in film making, which is a breath of fresh air) that is layered with power shifts throughout the film – this film is about so much more.

We first meet Benedetta (played once she becomes an adult by a sensational Virginie Efira), an adolescent with a deep connection to the Virgin Mary and her faith, as she is about to be sold – via a marriage dowry – to a convent in Tuscany.* The Abbess (a great Charlotte Rampling, who manages to take what could be a one-note “villain” and crafts her into a complex role) drives a hard bargain, and it’s clear her no-nonsense nature will factor into Benedetta’s future. We jump forward in time to see a new postulant, Bartolomea (Daphne Patakia, yet another great performance, who is so good at playing a woman who thinks she’s in control only to realize far too late that she’s in over her head), join the convent and provide a complex temptation for Benedetta.

*It might be hard to understand in today’s world, but back in the 17^th century, convents were full and the Church was held as the pinnacle of virtue and power in Europe. Paying a dowry to obtain a spot in a novitiate class wouldn’t have been out of place, so while the Abbess drives a hard bargain, it isn’t odd of her to request it.

But the crux of the film isn’t about the relationship between Bartolomea and Benedetta – no, that’s only one facet of it. The film is a deep dive into the structure of power – religious fealty, the role of men in subjugating women, how women scuffle with each other to gain whatever scraps of power and position they are allowed, and how playing politics doesn’t necessarily mean giving people what they want but offering them what they think they need. And all of that – and it’s certainly a lot – is wrapped up in the character of Benedetta.

Verhoeven and his co-screenwriter David Birke walk a tightrope within the script, offering us various teases as to just what is happening with Benedetta as she amasses clout throughout her adult life. Is she receiving divine messages from Christ wherein he offers to protect the town from the plague that rages around it in exchange for their following Benedetta? Are the messages – which only we and Benedetta see – actually missives from a demonic source? Or is Benedetta far more shrewd than devout and her actions are hers alone – a woman seeing her lot in life, recognizing a means to change it, and taking what she wants through careful action and emotional manipulation? It’s a fascinating character study and one that the film doesn’t offer a finite answer on. That character study also allows Efira the opportunity to really push the boundaries with a role that could easily have been one-note – the femme fatale who manipulates those around her.

This film absolutely doesn’t work without its star turn from Efira, who never tips her hand – even when evidence seems to stack up against Benedetta. She’s balanced, allowing the audience to take this journey alongside her, but still fully human throughout the film. This isn’t an easy character to portray – we need to be on her side but also skeptical as to what her intentions are – and never once did Efira stumble. You cannot help but be on her side – but you also can’t help but question her motives, especially when it comes to her relationship with Bartolomea.

Though it is clear the women genuinely care for each other (this isn’t a case of a lesbian love story told for either tragic or prurient impact, but one with emotional resonance on both sides), it’s also clear that both have an agenda in beginning the relationship. It’s just that Benedetta’s is far more opaque in nature. Which means that Patakia has, arguably, the easier job, as we can more easily see Bartolomea’s wants and needs. But again, it isn’t so simple, as Patakia must also take on the role of audience surrogate at times, allowing us to see Bartolomea’s wavering faith in her lover at the same time we are required to feel the same. But she can never fully become a skeptic, lest the film lose their audience along with her. It’s a deceptively complex role and a complex performance to go along with it. While Efira is rightfully receiving a great amount of praise for her work in the film, Patakia is just as impressive.

This is a film that sets you up to think it will be one thing – a simple, sex-forward tale of two nuns in love – and turns out to be quite the opposite – a complex look at power structures in male-dominated societies and how women can work both within and outside of their confines to achieve power and influence, coupled with a moving love story. Smart, interesting, and begging its audience to look beyond the simple to the sublime, Benedetta is a real feat of filmmaking.

Benedetta is currently playing at select theatres.