A Wolf In Pastor's Clothing Brings Horror to Crockett Island in 'Midnight Mass'
Midnight Mass, as explained in Collider's review, is a tricky one to explain, but here goes, sans spoilers as much as possible (a much better experience going in without them). Four years after being imprisoned for a drunk driving accident that took the life of a young woman, Riley Flynn (Zach Gilford) returns home to Crockett Island, a small, isolated town accessible only by boat. On the same ferry is Father Paul Hill (Hamish Linklater), who has been sent by the diocese in place of the town's beloved Monsignor Pruitt, who has taken ill after a pilgrimage to the Holy Land.
The two receive highly disparate receptions from the townspeople. Riley is welcomed warmly by his parents, his brother, and his high school sweetheart, Erin (Kate Siegel), but few others, who regard him suspiciously and with judgment, particularly due to his denouncing of faith, which doesn't sit well with the deeply religious community. Father Paul, on the other hand, quickly endears himself to the townspeople with his fiery sermons and calls to action for the glory of God. That includes Bev Keane (Samantha Sloyan), the Bible-quoting, pious zealot who commands the town and its people.
Only Father Paul is hiding something from his parishioners. He's a wolf in pastor's clothing who brings about miracles, like healing the once-paralyzed Leeza (Annarah Cymone) and reversing the dementia-riddled aging of Mildred Gunning (Alex Essoe), after mixing the communion wine with something. The miracles work the town into a religious fervor, with Bev stoking the fire, and when the truth is revealed, the townspeople make an irreversible choice that releases hell upon the island.
There's horror on literally every level you can think of in Midnight Mass. There's enough gore to satisfy those whose tastes are for the visibly visceral, particularly in the climactic Easter Mass scene, a must-see. There's the psychological horror of things unknowingly being inflicted upon you. The horror of fanaticism taken to Jim Jones-like extremes, and the horror of utter heartbreak (watching the Muslim sheriff's pain at seeing his son fall prey to the mass hysteria is one of the most heart-wrenching scenes you'll ever see).
Yet it bucks the tropes of the genre in unexpected ways. The protagonist isn't who you think it is. The antagonist's intentions are pure and merciful, albeit skewed, changing our view of them from being fully malicious to a sympathetic character, while the true antagonist is as evil, but ultimately as cowardly, as they come. Midnight Mass is also devoid of the genre's stock characters, your promiscuous teen or comic relief. Every character is allowed time to breathe, to come across as fully developed, as flawed and as real as any person. Midnight Mass also goes far, far deeper than most horror fare. It explores themes of addiction, religion, and redemption. It explores the dangers of blind faith and fanaticism without falling into the trap of being anti-Christian, instead utilizing what it means to be a true Christian through self-sacrifice and staying true to who you are and what you believe. Deeply philosophical explorations of death and life. And it does all this and more without missing a beat, with even the most wordy of philosophical conversations proving as engaging as the more conventional horror aspects.
And it works thanks to a cast that is lights-out remarkable. Linklater is captivating, demanding attention in the moments where he's delivering impassioned homilies and in the quieter moments where he subtly seduces the townspeople with his charm. Sloyan, so excellent as Carrie's mother Margaret in Flanagan's most recent series, is excellent here as well, in full command of Bev's twisted use of scripture to suit her own narrative, fanning the flames but too cowardly to face the consequences. Rahul Kohli is perfect as Sheriff Hassan, a man who buries his anger over past injustices under the veil of a level-headed lawman and voice of reason. Everyone contributes here, crafting a world with characters so real, in an environment that feels real, that the tragedy that befalls them hits harder than it probably should. And it's that deeply tragic element that makes Midnight Mass Flanagan's best horror series — to date, that is.