Conclave is a screenplay-driven film that, while smart, disappears into an unfortunate valley between realism and zaniness. Cardinals don’t behave like this; no one seriously believes that they do. Yet director Edward Berger and screenwriter Peter Straughan won’t quite relinquish the premise that, yes, actually, they do—so their creation has neither credibility nor artistic flourish. Had they freed themselves of the constraints of accuracy, we might have had something as fun as Yorgos Lanthimos’ The Favourite; had they doubled down on realism, we might have had the majesty that the subject matter demanded—think Kubrick’s Barry Lyndon. But they’ve done neither: they’ve given us The West Wing with popes. Indeed, this movie’s true Holy Spirit may be Aaron Sorkin, whose influence suffuses characters, wondrously, miraculously, with liberalist speeches so rhetorically sound as to ensure, even for an otherwise unremarkable tale, access to the kingdom of award season success.
–Jim Andersen