Benedetta
IFCEclectic genre filmmaker and known provocateur Paul Verhoeven returns to the big screen with his most scathing production yet – yes, even more provocative than Showgirls – with Benedetta. Based on the book Immodest Acts: The Life of a Lesbian Nun in Renaissance Italy by Judith C. Brown, the film chronicles the story of Benedetta Carlini (Virginie Efira), a nun who, in 17th century Italy, receives strange visions from Jesus, which leads her to being marked by the stigmata. With this mark, she then becomes the Abbess of her convent in Pescia, to the disdain of her predecessor, Felicita, (Charlotte Rampling) and daughter (Louise Chevillotte), with the latter thinking Benedetta self-inflicted the wounds. And as the plague ravages Italy, Benedetta believes her connection with Jesus will make the town of Pescia invincible from the disease, until an infected Nuncio (Lambert Wilson) arrives to the town to accuse the Reverend Mother of blasphemy and bestiality, by having developed a forbidden love affair with Sister Bartolomea (Daphné Patakia).
Viewers should always approache a Paul Verhoeven film with caution and some may find Benedetta shamelessly exploitative. There have been Christians protesting the feature, thinking it “insults the sanctity of Catholic nuns” and that holy things must be kept “holy” – whatever that means – while others will find Verhoeven’s usual brand of provocation insanely fun. Verhoeven isn’t afraid of deconstructing the purity of Catholic nuns through shamelessly exploitative sex and action scenes, while also desacralising known Christian figures. And if keeping holy things holy meant not transforming a pocket statue of the Virgin Mary into a dildo, well . . .
Describing more of Benedetta’s plot and offensive sequences would mean spoiling the fun that the trailers have so very well hidden – they only give a glimpse of the movie’s pure insanity. The film is already being qualified by some critics as ‘nunsploitation’, but that’s complete nonsense. ‘Nunsploitation’ movies, such as Joseph Guzman’s aptly titled Nude Nuns with Big Guns, puts sex and violence at the front of their production, because it titillates the viewer and provides them a form of cathartic release with a script that is usually poorly written, since the story needs to revolve around exploitative sex and violence.
Verhoeven and David Birke’s script does not emphasise “sex” and Virgin Mary dildos, but utilise it as an integral part of Benedetta Carlini’s journey from devout servant of Jesus to Abbess and ultimate savior of Pescia. Verhoeven’s sole goal isn’t also to arouse the viewer even if some of his sequences feel more erotic than in Céline Sciamma’s Portrait of a Lady on Fire. He rather uses sex and the occasional practical violence to represent Benedetta’s torment. Her sexual impulses for Jesus are too strong to contain. None of the sex sequneces show true love between Benedetta and Bartolomea and the Reverend Mother uses sex regularly to suppress her desire for Jesus with Bartolomea. All she thinks about is serving the Virign Mary and her son, and every act she makes is born out of Christ’s love.
In a perfect world, Virginie Efira would be the frontrunner for the Best Actress Oscar, alongside Agathe Rousselle for Titane. But they’re likely going to be ignored by inferior performances in American films, as is such the case with Awards Season each year. Efira literally throws herself on the screen from the first frame to the last, juggling a plethora of strong emotion with confidence and grace.
The viewer can feel the devotion she has for the son of God when He feels “close” to her in dream sequences. Efira doesn’t need to say much. Her eyes automatically widen, and one breathless pronunciation of the word “Jésus!” gives us the right idea of how much she loves Him. Then there are the scenes where she’s possessed by Jesus’ spirit. At first it’s hard not to laugh at how sudden and ridiculous the emotional shift is, but then doubt permeates the mind into a constant state of panic. Is Benedetta truly possessed, or is she faking it? Nobody knows, and nobody will know, but her willingness to serve Jesus is frightening, no matter if it’s made up or not. Efira plays Benedetta with such emotional fervor, she literally sinks into the role and becomes the Reverend Mother herself.
The same can be said for every other actor, including newcomer Daphné Patakia who has terrific chemistry with Efira. Audiences may groan at the fact that their lust starts to blossom when they collectively take a dump, but it literally – and figuratively – acts as a fuel for their forthcoming relationship. Benedetta dumps Jesus’ love into Bartolomea, without shame or thinking she is committing a sin.
But the real star of Benedetta’s supporting cast is Lambert Wilson, showing up at the exact time the movie needs to amplify its dramatic tension. Rampling is great too, and her French is impeccable, but Wilson adds the missing piece Benedetta needed from the very beginning to elevate the film from “great” to “amazing”. He’s as despicable as any other Vatican figure who abuses his misogynistic power, under the guise that “God” wants him to burn all sinners to the stake. The screen time he shares with Efira is electric. The audience are consistently on their toes at the sight of the Nuncio, who never shares his emotions publicly and keeps his darkest thoughts at bay. Both actors are giving their very best performances, which is quite telling especially when Wilson just gave an all-time portrayal of Charles De Gaulle last year, even if the movie itself wasn’t close to a masterpiece.
Aesthetically, Benedetta is Verhoeven’s best looking film since Basic Instinct. Jeanne Lapoirie’s cinematography is razor-sharp and never misses a beat to make every scene as erotic as possible, and not just through sex. It’s hard for digital photography to have a bigger impact than film. The best digital-shot film of the year so far is Titane, because it features vivid colors. Benedetta has almost no color, since its setting is quite bleak.
But everytime the main character dreams of Jesus, Lapoirie tries to fill the frame with as much hope as possible. The sunlight beaming in the background as Jesus is crucified is one example of many, but it makes our eyes bubble up with the possibility that hope can happen if we believe in Him. And as the script constantly focuses on the titular character, so does the camera, following her every move and consistently blurring the lines between reality and fiction to the point where the audience may ask themselves if everything they’re watching is a pure fantasy. We’re watching everything through Benedetta’s eyes, and as the characters deem her untrustworthy, her entire testimony may be completely fabricated.
Without Lapoirie’s cinematography, Benedetta wouldn’t be as layered as it is. It needs a strong and confident lens to pull the audience in, and incredible performance to keep them consistently engaged from beginning to end. As soon as Benedetta has an intervention with a Virgin Mary statue, the movie shifts from great spiritual drama to an intense, pulsating experience that can’t properly be described into words. Simply put, it’s a film that must be experienced on the largest screen imaginable to be believed. There are so many inconceivably insane sequences in this it almost gives Titane a run for its money, but Julia Ducournau’s film had a tighter relationship between Alexia/Adrien and Vincent. Benedetta is more interested in making the audience feel the presence of a higher power through extreme provocation, than a heartwarming film on a steroid-addicted father who just wants to love someone.
Verhoeven has always been one to push the boundaries of sexual content and graphic violence in his movies, and it’s no different in Benedetta. It’s his best work since Basic Instinct, and his most maddening effort since Showgirls. An incredible performance from Virginie Efira keeps the movie constantly moving to new and exciting directions, and Lambert Wilson’s presence seals the deal and raises – no pun intended – the drama to one of the most maddening pictures of the year. Nobody could’ve conceived quite a film like Benedetta other than Paul Verhoeven and make it work. But that’s also because nobody makes, and will ever make, movies like Paul Verhoeven.