Immaculate

Sydney Sweeney is currently pulling off a feat that most industry analysts thought was extinct: she is becoming a genuine, old-school movie star by sheer force of will. In an era where most actors are merely secondary to the IP they inhabit, Sweeney is out here treating her career like a 1990s mogul. She followed up a massive rom-com hit with Anyone But You by pivoting immediately into a self-produced, grimy Italian horror flick that feels like it was unearthed from a 1970s time capsule. I watched Immaculate on a Tuesday night while my cat was relentlessly trying to eat my shoelaces, and even that distraction couldn't pull me away from the sheer, unadulterated madness of the film’s final fifteen minutes.

The Gospel According to Sydney

The history of this film is almost as interesting as the plot itself. Sydney Sweeney actually auditioned for this project back in 2014 when she was a teenager. When the movie fell apart in development hell, she didn’t just move on; she eventually bought the script, hired director Michael Mohan (who she worked with on The Voyeurs), and got it made through her own production company, Fifty-Fifty Films. That context matters because Immaculate feels personal. It doesn’t have the sanded-down edges of a studio-mandated horror release. It’s a lean, mean, 89-minute exercise in religious dread that knows exactly when to stop being a "elevated horror" and start being a bloodbath.

Sweeney plays Sister Cecilia, a young American woman who joins a remote Italian convent after a near-death experience left her convinced that God has a specific plan for her. The convent is beautiful in that "everything here is definitely haunted" sort of way, draped in shadows and populated by elderly nuns who look like they’ve seen things that would make a gargoyle flinch. Shortly after arriving, Cecilia discovers she is pregnant. Since she’s a virgin, the convent—led by Álvaro Morte’s Father Tedeschi and Dora Romano’s Mother Superior—declares it a miracle. But as anyone who has ever seen a movie knows, miracles in horror movies are just tragedies with better PR.

Atmosphere, Blood, and Italian Shadows

What I appreciated most about the first two acts is the atmosphere. Michael Mohan and cinematographer Elisha Christian lean heavily into the "Nunsploitation" aesthetic of the 70s without making it feel like a cheap parody. The lighting is gorgeous—lots of flickering candlelight and deep, oppressive reds that suggest the blood is already soaking into the floorboards before it’s even been spilled. It’s a slow burn, focusing on the gaslighting of Cecilia as her body is effectively turned into property of the Church.

The supporting cast is excellent at being deeply unsettling. Álvaro Morte, famous for Money Heist, brings a frantic, intellectual energy to Father Tedeschi that makes him far more frightening than a standard "evil priest" caricature. He’s a man of science as much as faith, which makes the eventual reveal of the "sinister secret" much more grounded and disturbing. Then there’s Simona Tabasco (who many will recognize from The White Lotus) as Sister Mary, providing the only bit of rebellious oxygen in a room full of incense and dogma.

However, the film does rely a bit too heavily on the "jump scare followed by a dream sequence" trope in its mid-section. It’s a common flaw in modern horror—a lack of trust that the audience will stay engaged without a loud bang every ten minutes. Fortunately, the practical effects work is top-tier. When the film decides to get violent, it doesn’t shy away. There are moments involving a tongue and a pair of industrial shears that made me physically recoil, and the gore feels earned rather than gratuitous.

A Final Act for the History Books

We need to talk about that ending. Without giving away the "what," I have to discuss the "how." The final shot of Immaculate is a single, unbroken take of Sydney Sweeney's face that lasts for several minutes. It is a masterclass in primal, raw performance. In an age of CGI-heavy climaxes and "multiverse" teases, seeing a movie end on nothing but a human scream and a wet, crunching sound is incredibly refreshing. It’s bold, it’s ugly, and it’s arguably the most metal thing a mainstream actress has done in a decade.

Released in the same window as The First Omen, another "evil pregnancy" nun movie, Immaculate stands out because it feels more like a singular vision. It’s not trying to set up a franchise or explain the lore of a 50-year-old IP. It’s a story about a woman reclaiming her bodily autonomy from a group of men who think they own it, told through the lens of a midnight movie. It’s the kind of film that confirms the theatrical experience still has teeth, especially when those teeth are covered in stage blood.

Immaculate isn't a perfect film—it occasionally trips over horror clichés and the "mystery" reveal might be a bit silly for some—but its commitment to the bit is undeniable. It is a stylish, mean-spirited, and ultimately triumphant showcase for a star who clearly knows how to pick her battles. If you have a stomach for some "holy" body horror and one of the best endings of the year, it’s absolutely worth the trip to the convent. Just maybe skip the Italian food right before you watch it.