The scene opens on a park bench, condom advertisement behind the two main characters as we get a sense of their personalities.
Sister Thatcher is dark femme coded. She strikes us as distrusting and aware of the situation around her. She’s sharp, edgy. She’s persuasive, having convinced 9 people to convert already.
Her partner in crime, Sister Baxton appears lightheaded and charismatic, open to exploring ideas just because, finding religion everywhere, even while watching pornography. Despite her friendliness, we soon learn that these young ladies are outcasts, and need to be careful, as teenagers see it appropriate to pants Baxton, clueing us in on the murmurs behind closed doors of many a family.
When the women arrive at Mr. Reed’s house to talk to him, were initially charmed by his bumbling nature, but the film has already made clear that things aren’t as they seem.
Initially, Reed pushes some superficial objections to Mormonism, most notably polygamy. With a certain self-assuredness, he attempts to puncture the girl’s faith in religion. At one point, he slams the Book of Mormon on the table, brimming with notes. Reed is a scholar and he’s here to teach us. Thatcher responds explaining how she thinks that Joseph Smith no longer needed to increase the population so rapidly. Reed pushes the issue, insinuating that Smith abused his trust and sought control.
There’s some uncertainty between the girls, do I engage or not? As it becomes apparent that there is no wife or blueberry pie, Mr. Reed delivers a lecture on the unoriginality of religion. Each of the big three religions is an iteration of Monopoly. Many others are derivative, but they all point to a key truth. Thatcher responds by pointing out variations between the religions, and shows her familiarity with the works.
During this argument, the Mormon leader begins his search for the two lovely ladies. The choice comes to whether to go through doors, one of which is demarcated by belief and trust, the other by disbelief. Politely, Baxton suggests going through the disbelief door, to her it’s ok for Mr. Reed to think they’ve persuaded them. Thatcher insists on the belief door, and they venture into a rank cellar, where Reed locks them in.
An interesting looking being ambles in, holding a blueberry pie. Maybe Reed had a demonic wife. Reed clarifies that he’s going to show them a miracle, he can raise the dead. He tells the being to consume the blueberry pie that’s poisoned, and asks the women to verify that she has in fact died.
At this point, the Mormon leader arrives, and there’s hope for the missionaries that they’ll escape. They climb to the top of the stairs and scream, afterwards grabbing a few matches, to maybe use fire to escape. The being is alive and throws up, reciting something about heaven being fake.
Isn’t this proof of a miracle? Bringing his prophet back to life? Baxton thinks that the miracle could be true, while Thatcher doubts. Thatcher expresses disbelief and when Reed suggests they kill themselves to see the other side, Thatcher shares how she’s had her own near death experiment, and it’s fake.
Reed slices Thatcher’s neck in a twist that none of us see coming. Where we previously expected her to be the final girl, our expectations were subverted. Reed then pretends that he can resurrect Thatcher if not for a microchip, Thatcher’s birth control. She’s some apparition, hence not being able to be resurrected.
Reed begins to push on Baxter to kill herself. Why not try it? She expresses skepticism about the microchip being birth control and points out how Reed who knows and can control everything must be improvising, he must be wrong. But, what? Could Reed have switched out bodies of prophets? Who has bodies lying around? Baxter looks around until she finds a trap door under the table.
We’re not all the way down the rabbit hole yet. As she descends another layer, she finds the body of the first prophet and explores a creepy environment until she’s at the end. Reed greets her there and culminates in his thesis. Religion is about control. It’s about domination. Every step on the way there was meticulously controlled by this man. Reed begins a self-congratulatory note on how this was always to happen because Baxter is a sheep, unwilling to think for herself. Baxter stabs Reed and runs away, searching for a way out, but cannot find one. Exploring both the belief and disbelief doors, trying to find an exit.
She returns to her friend’s corpse, maybe to grieve, maybe for clarity when she’s stabbed by Reed. She begins to pray, after acknowledging it doesn’t work. Reed advances upon her, ready to slit her neck when Thatcher in a dying heroine manner whacks him with a post, leaving him dead.
Baxter continues to explore, despite nursing a wound, until she finds a way out a window. It’s so bright in the snow, and the movie ends.
Most clever movies aren’t especially philosophical. Rarer still are those that manage to be subversive without respecting ideas in general. Probably the biggest reason I enjoyed this is that it’s a masterclass in providing an extended argument. Each layer down represents the foundation or logical extension of what happens next. Part of Reed’s professorial nature allows him to hide his monstrosity, but left us with the nagging feeling of “ok he’s teaching us, but why is he keeping us there”. Foreshadowing is strong but not overwhelming, particularly the butterfly trying to escape. This movie rewards those paying attention to the details, while still managing to surprise.
Plus, the movie tackles a topic that is often avoided forcefully. Even more than politics, one should be careful around religion. Having a full-throated perspective by the antagonist, fleshed out and not obviously wrong was an interesting choice. Taking ideas seriously was important, and throughout the movie, I went back and forth the extent to which I agreed with various perspectives.
A second thing that I liked about the movie is it didn’t resort to the tired trope of treating missionaries like idiots. Both of the young women were bright and observant, particularly Baxter noticing the bodies were switched. Both were capable and competent, and both actively downplayed the strength of their arguments because a dangerous man was in front of them. One got the sense that neither felt comfortable articulating their broader vision. I wish I could see more of their discussions, and enjoyed that there wasn’t anyone to save them.
A final aspect of the movie I enjoyed was the camerawork on faces and around corners. The setting was dank, dark, and dreary inside. Each corner had new mysteries. Each inch of the room consciously chosen. The model building that Reed had spoke to his attention to detail and his desire for control. The feeling of finality as Baxter escapes, maybe to live another day, maybe to not left me feeling contemplative. Did her vision of spirituality win out?