The best reason to see writer-directors Scott Beck and Bryan Woods’ thriller is Hugh Grant’s smiling menace as the reclusive Mr. Reed. It’s the same slight, self-deprecating upward tug at the corners of the mouth that made him a charming rom-com lead back in the day, but give him a few more facial creases, some grandpa gravel in the vocal cords, and a genuine bone to pick with The Big Three monotheisms, and you’ve got a cheerfully creepy delight to accompany you on your way to the dark truth that he says lies behind (or maybe below) all religion. (His speech about iterations, as evidenced by The Hollies, Radiohead, and Lana Del Rey, is a corker.) His conversational opponents here are a couple of Mormon missionaries — one a lifetime true believer, the other a clever convert — so it’s probably not surprising that he doesn’t spend much time on Buddhism, Hinduism, paganism, etc. The mood-setting is masterful, and the tension over Reed’s true intentions rises nicely right up to the point where he writes “Belief” and “Disbelief” on a couple of doors and tells the girls that it makes a difference which one they choose. After that, things get murky, both on his part and the film’s. Beck and Woods want to present Reed as a diabolical genius, but he winds up proving careless, reliant on coincidence, and utterly unconvincing in his moment of triumph. And for a movie that seems to want to be about faith, it relies pretty heavily on works (and the miraculous transformation of a frightened teen into a tough-minded detective), right up until its big deus ex machina. (2024) — Matthew Lickona
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