In THE TESTAMENT OF ANN LEE, the team from THE BRUTALIST turn their lens from the fictional to a “real legend”. In a mostly secular Hollywood, where every musician represents a Messiah whose tale has to be told, comes an older tale of song and faith. The star: the Prophetess of the Shakers, presenting a refreshingly unwieldy challenge to portray such all-encompassing Christian fervour with honesty and earnestness. The result is transfixing, thrilling and — both visually and musically — absolutely stunning.
Growing up in Manchester, Ann Lee (Amanda Seyfried) and brother William (Lewis Pullman) have been working since childhood. Their start in the cotton mills is gruelling, unforgiving, and a startling reminder of the dangers of historical child labour, as they wear makeshift masks to avoid inhaling the dust. In adulthood, the suffering of everyday life persists, without the reprieve of a higher purpose. Attending a Shakers meeting with her brother and her niece, Ann finds her people, and the solace that comes with their unusual faith.
Shrieking and flailing to release their inner demons, individual Shakers share their worst sins and dispel evil through the help of their community. Both disturbing and transfixing, the vision is akin to MIDSOMMAR, when Florence Pugh’s Dani screams and heaves in synchrony with members of the commune. As hymns come into play, Daniel Blumberg’s score is transcendental and the choreography is glorious, with every Shaker looking like someone in a Renaissance painting come to life, dancing in circles or all beating their chests, or lost in their own world and with their own movements. For those who enjoyed the interpretive dance elements of CYRANO to express yearning, THE TESTAMENT OF ANN LEE takes that physicality of expression to a whole other level.
“It is an uncompromising portrayal of a woman who is clearly grieving and hallucinating, while still enabling viewers to align with the ecstasy in her delirium.”
As Ann marries, she suffers at the hands of her husband and mourns the death of four infants. Her pain is immense, and in a radical move, she preaches a vision that tells her celibacy will end the suffering and sin of her people. Christened “Mother Ann” by her siblings in faith, she goes to prison for her preaching, but instead of breaking her resolve, she fasts and finds new ways of connecting to God. It is an uncompromising portrayal of a woman who is clearly grieving and hallucinating, while still enabling viewers to align with the ecstasy in her delirium. As the camera moves in close to Ann, her beautiful voice and the rapture in her eyes transforms madness into exultation as she sings “I hunger and thirst”. Musicals always require an additional willingness to embrace artifice, and Seyfried has the credits, from MAMMA MIA! to LES MISÉRABLES, to lead the film in terms of talent, but she also rises to the emotional complexity of embodying a convincing spiritual leader.
“As is mentioned in Ann’s first ever meeting, the notion of a female preacher is revolutionary. This quality is true of the time and even now.”
The Mancunian accents leave a little to be desired, breaking the otherwise believable 18th century landscape in the film, but the supporting performances from Pullman and Thomasin Mackenzie (who plays Ann’s devotee and friend Mary Partington) are strong. As they spread the gospel of Mother Ann in America, the flocking of suffering poor folk to the new church is believable. This radical faith asks a lot of its followers: celibacy, fighting sexual gratification and maternal urges, enforced revelation of dark secrets in a repressed society, pacifism during both religious persecution and the war of Independence. The film doesn’t hide the challenges those demands cause. But there’s beauty in this community too, in sharing and dispelling pain, in equality between genders and races, and in building a home together.
As is mentioned in Ann’s first ever meeting, the notion of a female preacher is revolutionary. This quality is true of the time and even now. Perhaps the film doesn’t question fanaticism enough, but to see so many people led by a woman is a thing of beauty, even with the difficult realities. To have such a feminist epic, directed by a woman, with a unique vision and power, should serve as a cinematic testament, not a solitary miracle.