[Review] Midnight Mass

Hamish Linklater and Samantha Sloyan as Father Paul and Bev Keane

In 2014, I remember going to the theatres to watch Oculus with a group of friends. I’ve seen hundreds of movies with different people. So many that I’ve often forgotten most of them. While they were nothing outright special about my outing to Oculus, it’s a moment I remember clearly and dearly. It’s almost as if I was an observer to the moment. I don’t remember it as myself watching the screen, but the screen watching me discover someone so important. On my first watch of the film, I thought it was fun and creepy; it made me jump a handful of times, but I didn’t realize its brilliance, not then. Frankly, with every watch, I love the film more and more. As for every project that Mike Flanagan releases, I find them to be better than the perfect project he put out prior. How does one top both Hill House and Bly Manor while in between delivering us the sheer masterpiece that is Doctor Sleep? How does one follow-up projects that most consider perfect, by dropping both a project that’s been teased since 2016, and delivering once again, a perfect show? Or at least, perfect for me.

In 2016, Flanagan released Hush on Netflix. A film that took everyone by surprise and grabbed them by the throat. He co-wrote it with his wife, a Flanagan cast staple Kate Siegel. Siegal plays Maddie Young, a deaf horror author. In the film, Maddie is working on a novel named Midnight Mass. Moving ahead to 2017, Flanagan released Gerald’s Game on Netflix. In it, we get a glimpse of Maddie’s novel. The progression was there; we had to wait for Flanagan to be ready to tackle this series, but as I can imagine, it would have taken him a lot to prepare himself emotionally and mentally to make this show. I wish I had been more prepared for this show.

Midnight Mass follows Riley Flynn (Zach Gilford), who returns to his hometown of Crockett Island, a tiny island with a smaller community. Soon, Father Paul (Hamish Linklater), a new priest, arrives on the ferry. It doesn’t take long for Flanagan to roll up his sleeves and deliver something like we haven’t seen before. Or we have, in a way, if you’ve been paying attention to his filmography. There are elements of everything he’s ever made, with the family he’s made along the way. We are given a compelling, horrifying, and heart-breaking story of redemption and rebirth between themes of legacy, family, trauma, religion and addiction. Nobody makes films or tells stories as Mike Flanagan does or at the scale of which he does. Stories of authentic, fully developed characters speaking from their broken hearts about life, death, and the miracles found in between the two. Yes, his films and shows are classified as horror, but it’s so much more than that.

It’s the first of Flanagan’s projects (outside of his 2006 short Oculus: Chapter 3) in which Flanagan makes a cameo appearance. It’s because of his attachment to the material, and it’s personal to him. In a letter that was released in the lead-up to the release, he states how he’s been three years sober. Very close to the four years that Riley has at the start of the series. Again, it’s a project that Flanagan has been teasing us and warning us for years, but he wasn’t quite ready to combat it himself, let alone with a cast and crew to be shown, and viewed from all over the world. Flanagan has an understanding and hold of trauma that speaks to me. There are recurring images of things that haunt us, which hold us back from being who we can be. We’re constantly chasing this image of us, far off in the distance, a rising sun to tell us that a new day is upon us and all will be okay. But when we go to bed and are haunted by our demons, it’s tough to make it to the next day.

While both Haunting shows have given us an ensemble piece, I don’t think they feel so fully fleshed out as much as Midnight Mass. That’s not an attack on Hill House or Bly Manor, but a statement for those to realize that something may not fully prepare you for a broad range of emotions you might feel based on everyone’s unique POV and history. There is beauty in everyone’s story, in their pain, in their love. These characters are alive. They are jumping off the page, out of the screen and can be found standing and breathing in front of us. Everybody gets their moment to shine, and while I’ll get to as many as I can, I need to begin with Hamish Linklater.

Kate Siegel as Erin Greene

It doesn’t take long for Hamish to be someone to pay attention to every time he’s on the screen. He walks on the frame as a newcomer to the island where everyone knows everyone, as he replaces Monsignor Pruitt. Linklater walks in and owns the screen regardless of who else is on it with him. He delivers these passionate sermons that make me remember and understand why I used to go to church and enjoy it. Linklater delivers monologue after monologue, and every time he does, I lean in closer and appreciate everything he does. As for the rest of the cast, Gilford as Riley Flynn gives us an incredible performance of a man struggling to not drown in guilt as he deals with addiction. Kate Siegel as Erin Greene is amazing, as she always is. Rahul Kohli, as Sheriff Hassan, is heartbreakingly good at depicting someone who also has suffered too much. This is the theme that connects all these characters on the island. They are all in pain, they are suffering, but they turn to religion to help. 

I grew up going to church every Sunday. I went to a catholic elementary school. A family who swears by the bible surrounded me. They accept it as fact, “so sayeth He, it shall be.” You know the type. My family are mostly great people. We all have flaws, but they mean well. It’s tough to isolate the religion from who they are, though. It’s intertwined with people that I find hard to be around when religion and God come up. They want me to believe, as they do, but I don’t, and I can’t. The discussions found in Midnight Mass are what I wish I knew how to say growing up, or even now. I hope it was as simple as believing in something that will make everything okay, but I can’t when the evidence was staggering on the other side. I know what having faith and believing in God and Jesus is supposed to do, and how it’s supposed to help everyone, but it doesn’t. It’s another tool to isolate anyone who doesn’t fit in with those who do. 

All my best friends are ones who might not fit in, so how can I accept it? These are the thoughts that I have had throughout the entire season. In between being terrified of what’s lurking in the shadows, we are given these fantastic poetic monologues that go on for minutes about what religion means in our fucked-up society. They are things I wish I could say or write, but of course, it’s Mike Flanagan who is providing us with what might be the best thing he’s made so far. There’s a thin line between those who believe in religion and those who are part of a cult. I’m not stating it a simple statement, and neither is Flanagan.

Rahul Kohli as Sheriff Hassan

It comes as no surprise that the cinematography is spectacular. Every episode is stunning. The editing is precise, the attention to detail is incredible. Flanagan has said himself that this is his favourite project he’s done and I understand why. All these hints and clues to this project in past films for him to tell people it’s the “best thing I never made.” But now he’s made it, and the project will also be out for the world to realize it’s the best thing he’s ever made. So far. Whatever he has up his sleeve is next will also blow our high expectations out of the water. It’s what he does best. He keeps us on our toes, terrified of the monsters in his work, to be terrified and fall in love with the humans he introduces us to. 

It’s been a few days since I’ve finished watching the show, and some elements and moments are stuck playing on a constant loop in my head. Moments that want to bring me to my knees, lines that I want to get tattooed on my skin because the words and the meaning that come with them are beautiful. Midnight Mass is a perfect piece of film, television, art, whatever term you want to give it. It’s a rich story with hundreds of layers, and within the pages is suffering and pain and love and understanding. A show that will scare you for many reasons and then bring you back to life because of the support and the family of the people of Crockett Island on multiple occasions. They’ll pray for us, and we’ll listen. They’ll sing for us, and we’ll listen.