The Righteous (2021) Neo-Gothic Religious Chamber Horror Inside (Review)

It’s always a curious proposition when a known actor steps behind the camera: what is it about “this project”, in particular, that made them want to make the leap? Some see it as the next step in the evolution of their career, while others have passion projects up their sleeve, and the rest? They are a mystery known only to themselves. Mark O’Brien, who is probably best known for his turns in Ready or Not & Arrival, is more integrated as an actor/director, with shorts and TV episodes dating back to 2005. Now, with the Righteous, he has made his directorial feature debut.

With The Righteous making its UK debut on Arrow Player (June 10th), there’s a kind of inbuilt expectation that it will play into the cult horror domain that the label command, and while true by the slimmest of technicalities, it is also far wide of what the film is. And that is something much closer to the psychological stories told by Ingmar Bergman or Carl Th. Dreyer, albeit with modern sensibilities. Frederic (Henry Czerny) is struggling with his faith after the passing of his adoptive daughter. One night, an injured man, Aaron (Mark O’Brien on double duties), turns up on his doorstep asking for help. Frederic and his wife (Mimi Kuzyk) appreciate his presence and the timing and ask him to stay for a spell. As time passes, Aaron becomes more enigmatic than he first appeared. With conversations shared through the medium of dreams, and more pressingly, asking him for an unthinkable favour – one which tests Frederic’s faith and limits. And while it gets a tad convoluted, it ratchets up the psychological and emotional intensity to a fevered and symbolic climax. One heightened by being shot in a gloomy black & white by Scott McClellan and a perfectly judged chamber composition by Andrew Staniland.

Shot in and around one isolated house, with a few theological debates at a nearby church, this is the quintessence of micro indie film – albeit one heightened to the Nth degree by its gorgeous neo-gothic aesthetics. To reword that sentence: this is a long-winded way of saying – it’s a morality play shot in one building. That statement alone will define how much you’ll get from this latest indie acquisition by Arrow Video. I previously used the touchstones of Bergman and Dreyer because if you like those titans of mid-20th-century European cinema, there is something for you here. Or, if you’ve yet to experience anything by those names: The Righteous is one for the more patient viewer, one who is more comfortable with the “cinema as subtext” style than the more immediate style commonly associated with Arrow.

Typically, small contained dramas, whether they skew closer to traditional dramatic pieces, horror or somewhere in between – are hotbeds for actors to express themselves with little distraction. Outside two effects shot, this is very much an “actors film,” which is fitting, given that the director is also an actor. Neither Czerny nor O’Brien disappoint – the prior full of pious indignation & frustration and the latter, well, I don’t want to spoil how that character evolves – however, his performance sways between wild-eyed mania and affable grief surrogate. Filling out the cast, Kate Corbett also impresses as a heartbroken neighbour who drops by from time to time, and Mimi Kuzyk isn’t bad; it is more that she has very little to do. A distinction worth making.

In front of the camera, O’Brien’s character is the vehicle for theological debate on the guilt inherent within the grieving process and the responsibility someone has for their past mistakes – especially someone who has embraced god into their heart. His character is subtext as text, and typically that is a surefire way to alienate me from any film. You know the sort of film I am talking about, where the ghost or zombie represents consumerism, infidelity or grief or delete as applicable. Whether the Righteous gets that pass is an entirely ambiguous affair, this is the sort of film that will divide audiences, and that’s perfectly fine. I think the movie becomes more than just the latest chamber piece thanks to the atmosphere its debuting director cultivates. Through that neo-gothic texture, inspired use of black and white which elevates everything to the feel of a fable, and that abrasive classical score, everything feels more fatalistic. On that score, it complements the material as it did with Emma Seligman’s savage comedy of errors, Shiva Baby, but like that, mileage will massively vary.

Rob on The Righteous (2021)