A24’s Hit New Horror Movie Has the Mormon Church Upset. I Can See Why. (2024)

In the new thriller Heretic, from A Quiet Place directors Bryan Woods and Scott Beck, Hugh Grant plays the conniving Mr. Reed, a man who poses as a religious seeker eager to learn more about the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints (LDS church, or Mormon church, colloquially) in order to lure two young women into his house. There he entraps the “sister missionaries” (the more commonplace male missionaries are called “elders”) in a terrifying game of gotcha about the history of religion and faith’s place in it. The tension of the film builds around a series of lectures about belief Reed delivers to the young women as he forces them further and further into his house of horrors.

Heretic’s chief contribution to the thriller genre is this use of mansplaining as horror. For the first hour of the film, its main creep factor comes from a building feeling many women, both religious and not, will recognize. The women find themselves on the receiving end of an intellectual monologue from a man they do not know, and through their intentional glances to one another and ever-tightening smiles, we see them struggle to decide how to extricate themselves safely. The film interrogates the too-familiar tendency of women to remain courteous even in the face of red flags, one that has prompted legions of true-crime fans to argue women must “fuck politeness” for their own safety.

But the movie’s horror also turns on the unique history of Mormonism and the cultural position of its young, bright-eyed, and faithful devotees, one that hits close to home for Mormons who have served missions or may someday send their sons and daughters off on them. The film makes it clear that our sister-missionary heroines are vulnerable long before they enter Mr. Reed’s house, raising hard questions about the religion that has put them in harm’s way.

Sister Paxton, played by Chloe East, is the greener of the two missionaries and laments in the opening scene that she has not yet converted anyone on her mission. Her more experienced mission companion, Sister Barnes, played by Yellowjackets’ Sophie Thatcher, is a later-in-life convert to the church who is originally from Philadelphia. She promises they’ll get a baptism.

As they move about the cold Colorado town they are posted in before they make their way to Mr. Reed’s house by bicycle, they spot a group of teenage girls. When the teens clock the missionaries, they ask for a photo. As they pose for a selfie, the teens suddenly “pants” Sister Paxton, pulling down her skirt and exposing her LDS temple garments in the middle of town. They mock her “magical underwear” as they run away laughing.

Barnes and Paxton hardly acknowledge this humiliation before continuing their journey to meet the evening’s target “investigator,” a term Mormons use to describe people interested in converting to the church. With a determination not to think too hard about the incident, Sister Barnes and Sister Paxton knock on Reed’s door. They introduce themselves and he invites them into the house to talk about their religion. They hesitate, explaining that they cannot come into the house unless there is a woman present. He assures them his wife is inside and has just put a blueberry pie in the oven that he’d love to share with them.

That’s how the women find themselves in Reed’s living room, against their better judgment. Before long, Reed asks if he can raise a delicate, uncomfortable subject. Nervously, the sister missionaries tell him they won’t know until he asks. He asks them their personal views about the historic Mormon practice of polygamy. They answer his question: Paxton finds the idea of sharing a husband repulsive. Barnes has a more nuanced take, a standard apologist’s view that the practice was once necessary to the growth of the church but is no longer part of the Heavenly Father’s Plan. Then Reed shares his thoughts about polygamy—a view common among critics of the church that it was contrived by the church’s founder, Joseph Smith, to legitimize his adultery after he was caught by his wife Emma Smith in an affair with a teenager. Barnes and Paxton nod and smile awkwardly as they realize Reed knows far more about their religion than he let on, and note his supposed wife’s continuing absence.

To their credit, it does not take long for them to drop the politeness. When Reed leaves the room, they agree to leave. They plan to go without saying goodbye or even collecting their coats. But Reed has already secretly ensured that the door they came through will not open again. They confront him about his lies, but soon realize they have no choice but to stay and entertain his monologues while looking for some way to escape.

The LDS church has objected to Heretic’s portrayal of its missionaries. Director of media relations Doug Andersen told Utah’s ABC affiliate that Heretic “portrays the graphically violent treatment of women” and “runs counter to the safety and well-being of our communities.” On Nov. 4, days ahead of the film’s release, the LDS church also issued a news release called “How the Church of Jesus Christ Keeps Missionaries Safe.” They link out to a missionary handbook that advises missionaries to “Leave immediatelyif you or your companion feels uncomfortable about a location, person, or situation (including a teaching situation). Listen to spiritual promptings.”

Despite instructing missionaries in sound safety principles like situational awareness (and less sound ones like “obedience”), none of the specific rules the church details in the release or handbook would have saved the movie’s heroines from Mr. Reed’s at first friendly overtures. It is this reality, Heretic’s close attention to the church’s actual protocol, that raises tender questions for Latter-day Saints about the risks and rewards of proselytizing missionaries, particularly in a society less and less enthusiastic about religion.

Proselytizing missions have been part of the LDS church since its earliest days, with its first official mission established in England in the late 1830s. Early missionaries tended to be older men, often middle-aged and already married (sometimes to more than one wife), with powerful positions in the church. The modern, just-out-of-high-school LDS missionaries of today didn’t emerge until after World War II. In 1950, the church recommended men go on a mission at age 20, “after two years of college or military service,” the idea being that though they were young, they should have some real-world experience outside their family homes to prepare them for what they might encounter. By the 1970s the minimum age for men was 19, and for women 21.

While the church stresses that all missionary service is voluntary, it has always treated missions as more voluntary for women. In 2012 the then-president of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, Thomas S. Monson, announced at the church’s semi-annual General Conference in Salt Lake City that the minimum age for young men would be lowered from 19 years old to 18 years old, and for young women, from 21 years old to 19 years old.

In the initial weeks after the 2012 announcement, applications for missions surged, according to church offices, from an average of 700 to 4,000 per week. Many young women who had not previously considered missions began to do so. By 2013, the church says, the number of female full-time missionaries had risen from 15 percent of the church’s active missionaries to 24 percent, and they may now be between one-third and one-half of total missionaries.

Church rules and policies around missions have also changed. In recent years, the church has drastically loosened restrictions on their dress requirements, allowing sister missionaries to wear pants in certain cases, and on missionaries’ use of technology to communicate.
Missionaries can use social media to contact potential investigators and to keep in touch with their friends and family back home. When my own peers were going on missions in the early 2000s, they were only allowed to call home twice a year, on Mother’s Day and Christmas. Now, staying in frequent contact with family is listed as one of the church’s recommendations to missionaries for staying safe.

I asked a former sister missionary, Sarah Allred (my cousin’s wife), if she ever felt unsafe on her mission in Ontario from 2013 to 2014. “I definitely had some uncomfortable situations, but I don’t think I’d say unsafe in an extreme sense,” she said. “Sister missionaries aren’t allowed to be in a house alone with a man, so that rule helped.” I told her that in Heretic, the missionaries reiterate this rule, but Mr. Reed hoodwinks them into believing his wife is inside the house and will be joining them shortly.

“Ah,” she said. “I can see that working well, actually.” Allred, who has since resigned from the LDS church, said the pressures to teach and convert could have made her ignore the rule in a moment like that. “Putting your own welfare/safety second to a righteous pursuit is a common theme throughout Mormonism. It’s hard to put your safety at the forefront while on your mission. We had to report our number of lessons and baptismal rates to our district leader and would get chastised if we didn’t have enough.”

According to the church’s missionaries past and present, threats they encounter in various parts of the world can vary wildly based on geography, political context, and chance, but missions can be both terrifying and truly dangerous, from extreme weather conditions to armed robberies, sexual harassment, and assault. Some consider facing these dangers to be character-building and even faith-building experiences.

Others have sought reform. Amy Stark told the Salt Lake City ABC affiliate she was sexually assaulted on her mission in Italy, and says that when she reported it, mission leaders blamed her for not obeying their rules. When she returned from her mission to attend Brigham Young University, she launched an informal survey to gauge how common sexual assault and harassment are for missionaries. Of about 300 respondents, Stark found the majority had been harassed or assaulted on their missions or knew someone who was. She has shared her findings with church officials.

Near the end of Heretic, Mr. Reed boasts that his elaborate plan to trap the women worked because he could predict their every move before they came in the house. He could do that, he claims, because their behavior has been dictated by the organized religion they belong to. In the end, the violence, anti-religious rhetoric, and R rating will mean most active followers of the LDS church are unlikely to see Heretic for themselves. But it is important for those who won’t see it to know that the film does not endorse Reed’s worldview. He is, indisputably, the movie’s villain.

Heretic’s sympathies lie instead with the sister missionaries, the young people walking around our cities with an earnest interest in conversation and connection that may not be matched by those they encounter. Fortunately, LDS missionaries are unlikely to encounter many Mr. Reeds in the world. But other threats are real and numerous. Perhaps the worst danger these missionaries face is a refusal to acknowledge the danger at all.