"Conclave" Review: A Tight, Slow-Burning Political Thriller

Edward Berger's dissection of papal politics is a worthy, topical political flick.

February 25, 2025

As of the writing of this article, Pope Francis is in critical condition at Agostino Gemelli Polyclinic in Rome. Although reports are generally optimistic, any man aged 88 in dire health is likely not long for the world. Should he pass, a papal conclave will be convened, and a new pope will be elected.

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It makes Conclave eerily topical as it heads for the 97th Academy Awards ceremony on Sunday, where it's up for eight awards, including Best Picture. The film follows the dean of Cardinals, Thomas Lawrence, as he leads a papal conclave following the unexpected death of the pope. As he investigates the various secrets of the candidates, damaging scandals derail the conclave, and the bitter feud between traditionalists and modernists takes center stage.

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If that sounds significantly less interesting than you’d hope a movie to be, then you’ve assessed correctly. Catholics may find it compelling, but the generality of scandal and political intrigue doesn’t translate well to the Vatican. We’ve seen films take the Church’s depraved indifference and turn it into cinematic gold, but the actual goings-on within the Vatican as it seeks to steer itself is not nearly as compelling an idea.

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As such, Conclave initially struggles to feel purposeful or gripping. It’s paced so deliberately that it makes us ask where it's going and what point it seeks to make too deep into the movie. It may have avoided these issues if it’d cared more for the thematic than the technical; there’s no shortage of gorgeous, artsy shots in Edward Berger’s political thriller, and while many of them are admirable to behold, none do anything to affect the overall mood or course of the film. It is the ultimate exercise in style over substance.

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Although their impact on the movie does not end there, the list of criticisms does. As the film gradually picks up, primarily through the strength of Ralph Fiennes' central performance, it proves itself not a promising protégé of a tried and true filmmaking mainstay: the slow burn.

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The reality of Conclave is that the institution it depicts is definitively antiquated, thus the disputes that dominate the film feel unworthy of our attention. No matter how progressive it becomes, the Catholic Church will always be leagues behind the times; the discussion of whether the next pope will surge them deeper into liberalism or yank them back into conservatism is not engaging. It’s essentially a debate of whether one will be marginally better or substantially worse.

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Yet, Peter Straughan’s screenplay ropes us in despite the story’s inherent limitations. When Cardinal Odeyemi, who fathered an illegitimate son decades before, has his misdeeds physically brought into the fold when the child’s mother is transferred to the Vatican, there’s a feeling of indifference at the implications. While we understand the conservatism of any religion, the idea that a child born out of wedlock would prove so directly contradictory to the Church’s teachings that everything else about someone is rendered moot feels silly. Amazingly, it proves (mostly) irrelevant. The performances are so insistent, and the screenplay so matter-of-fact, that we buy in. We know we don’t feel as strongly and that it’s an entirely different world, but a seemingly insurmountable gap gets bridged effectively by relying on the two pillars that hold up any film: writing and acting.

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It makes Conclave hard to review because there isn’t much to say aside from admiring those two factors for doing so much. Yes, there’s plenty of fodder for the cinematography lovers, the editing geeks, and the music nerds. You could create an entire art exhibit with the beautiful shots in Conclave. The bombing scene and the showdown between Cardinal Tremblay, Lawrence, and Sister Agnes is a masterclass in subtle editing. Volker Bertelmann recreates the throbbing pound of a pulse and underlies scenes with a deep sense of dread with his music. Alas, it all feels like window dressing compared to the substance created by a strong screenplay and brilliant performances.

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So, where does one go? What does one say? Well, for a film that may win the industry’s top honor in one of Hollywood’s weakest years in quite some time, it offers a glimmer of genius in a sea of general disappointment. It’s not as entertaining, contemplative, or gutsy as it could have been, but it’s as much those things as it needed to be.

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It could certainly do with a deeper exploration of the political divide that threatens the papacy and how each side pushes and concedes to navigate that chasm to fulfill a greater good. It could be sharper, less leisurely in ramping up its intrigue, and treat its narrative as a suffocation instead of chapters where each potential candidate gets exposed and dismissed. If it’d done all these things, its deliberateness would seem more genius than it ultimately proves to be, and it’d be an all-time film.

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Alas, it’s not, but at its peak, Conclave is immensely entertaining in the quietest but most satisfying way, where it finds incredible intrigue without compromising its environment and uses its ingredients to outstanding effect. The cast is impeccable, Volker Bertelmann’s score, though typically over-intrusive, sets moods within various recurrences, and the sound work magnifies the underlying tension.

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It’s the film version of every sports debate on the Internet: is it more important to have a great peak or incomparable longevity? It’s primarily a generational dispute, where the young value peak because they lack longevity and the old value longevity because they’ve long since peaked. As someone still young but having exited their physical prime, it’s easy to value Conclave as a film that finds a way to offer both, even if it doesn’t quite master them. When it finds its stride, it’s a fantastic movie that completely arrests the viewer and holds them until its final moment (despite that final moment bringing about a twist ending that feels unearned and disingenuous). In reflection, it leaves a lasting impression by keeping us suspended in that intrigue for longer than most films like it.

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Is that good enough when that reflection invariably includes that rushed conclusion, where a syrupy speech undoes days of intrigue to exalt a relative unknown? If one credits Straughan for subtle commentary on the foolishness of institutional traditionalism, yes. If one demands that a film earn that commendation instead of finding it to celebrate something for things it may not have achieved, no. But most movies split the difference in all ways, and sometimes good enough can satisfy in the face of the reality that not every movie will be an A+, five-star, undisputed masterpiece. Conclave is good at the exact moment the world needed it to be, and that’s good enough for this reviewer.