Godhead (Fantasia International Film Festival 2026)

I haven’t seen Mark H. Rapaport’s debut feature Hippo, but I’m familiar enough with its story (“an adopted Hungarian teenager who desperately wants a baby from her mentally‑ill stepbrother with a God complex”), to know he gravitates toward difficult, uncomfortable territories. Godhead, which received its world premiere at Fantasia 2026, feels like both a follow‑up and a spiritual successor that again circles theological anxieties, but this time leaning closer to a religious thriller than the psychosexual overtones of his earlier movie. As someone who isn’t religious I approached Godhead from a distance – a feeling that was heightened by the movie’s fixation on spiritual extremity, and a story that sees fanaticism and obligation collide as two groups confront the consequences of their own indoctrination. A priest only known as Father (Al Warren), and his “adoptive” son, Boy (Luke Speakman), are living a pious life – even though Father has manufactured an apocalyptic scenario to keep Boy confined within the church as part of a misguided attempt to preserve his innocence. A brother and sister arrive out of the blue – Firstborn (Sarah Coffey), and Secondborn (Kimball Farley), both of whom are convinced that one of them must die by the priest’s judgement to determine which of them is the Holy Spirit.

Godhead has a lot going on under the hood, especially on the subtextual level, but narratively, the setup is simple – Firstborn and Secondborn are outsiders who arrive with an aggressive insistence that Father honours their endeavour. He knows how absurd their request is, but is eventually cornered into becoming their judge, which isn’t achieved through debate or emotional pressure, but because their piety borders on delusion and the developmentally disabled Secondborn triggers his belief that people like that are closest to God – uncorrupted by vice or the wiles of modern society. Father talks himself into taking on their mission, even with Firstborn’s current status clashing heavily with her salacious past, but their failed attempts to shoot one another as proof of their holy calling raise the question of whether their conviction is genuine or simply performative – one of the many uncertainties the movie asks of its characters’ faith.

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Rapaport, like Eric Pennycoff in The Leech (2022), uses the outsiders to draw focus onto the members of the church, presenting challenges that question whether their devotion is genuine or merely indoctrination. The movie’s conflict lies in the mental gymnastics used to frame their actions as religiously justified because the sins they engage in push Godhead into transgressive territory that runs far deeper and darker than the crisp black‑and‑white cinematography William Babcock presents. The provocative nature of the reveals shows a writer-director confident in his convictions, especially with the way Firstborn is developed towards act three, for which credit has to go to Coffey – she goes to some very dark places whilst always maintaining a sense of piety. Genre cinema is full of religious zealots who are obviously evil, but far fewer are cruel while never betraying their faith – Piper Laurie’s turn as Margaret White in Carrie is the exemplar of this, and Coffey, with her clipped delivery, reaches similar heights.

The movie eventually separates Father, Firstborn, and Secondborn so the priest can interrogate their faith one by one, but Father’s an unreliable narrator, and more importantly the entire concept of the movie rests on unreliable foundations. Father’s heart‑to-heart with Secondborn allows for the idea that children are closest to God, but Farley is well into his twenties so it feels morally awkward – and that’s the point. When Firstborn becomes the target of his interrogation the movie shifts up a gear, growing increasingly intense and dangerous, and earning its place in the Underground section of Fantasia’s programme. This escalation never overwhelms because it’s cross‑cut with Secondborn discovering Boy, and seeing how he reacts to a purely innocent child reveals what Rapaport is striving for. It’s not a celebratory note for the larger Christian faith as he’s suggesting that people of the cloth may be even more susceptible to corruption, and that their indoctrination gives them a rigid idea of what’s right and wrong that lacks the nuance, grace, and social skills to navigate the space between the two. Father’s obsessive “protective” behaviour that led to him effectively kidnap Boy and manufacture an apocalyptic world to keep him compliant exposes just how warped that righteousness can become.

Godhead is dense, thorny, and deliberately confrontational, but at times it can feel like it’s shocking for shocking’s sake. While I can appreciate Rapaport’s craft and conviction, the movie doesn’t hold together as well as it could do given the topic and themes, and the fixation on religious absolutism and its uncompromising world view kept me at a distance. It does fit alongside other titles on Fantasia’s Underground slate as it’s made with a clear intent to provoke and unsettle with its theological intensity, and it will definitely divide the audience (religion has a way of doing just that). It’s a difficult, uneasy experience that does have its flaws, and although I struggled with some of the subtext, that isn’t a failure of the movie so much as my lack of religiosity.

ROB’S ARCHIVE – GODHEAD (2026)