Imagine one of Alan Bennet's Talking Heads characters turned up to 11 and given a horror twist. Maud is a twenty-something trained nurse in Scarborough, and has recently moved into providing care for the elderly with a private agency. This follows a bad incident at a hospital that haunts her - the film opens with her cowering in a corner of a tiled room, her hands bloody, looking up at an insect crawling on the ceiling. Imagine following this superficially ordinary woman through a very convincingly acted breakdown as she becomes fixated on saving the soul of a former dancer/choreographer she is sent to care for. Imagine what we call insanity as something profound, complex, terrifying, even beautiful.
Saint Maud is one of those horror films that is also a powerful character drama with a strong thriller element. Alan Bennet and Ruth Rendell put in a blender, perhaps, with a dash of Stephen King. Maud is superbly acted by Morfydd Clark as an isolated, confused, but often religious ecstatic young woman who we know quite early on could be dangerous. She is, after all, in a job where caring for the vulnerable is her job and she routinely injects drugs.
The other person in what quickly becomes a disturbingly intense relationship is Amanda, played in decadent diva mode by Jennifer Ehle. Maud is almost contemptuous of Amanda, informing God that creative types are often 'self-obsessed'. Yes, Maud talks to God on a regular basis, not merely praying but actually badgering the Almighty to give her a sign. Since her recent conversion, you see, she has been waiting - none too patiently - for Him to reveal the higher purpose He has in mind for her. She talks to God like a slightly stroppy employee talking to her line manager, or like a needy girlfriend. God, so far as Maud is concerned, needs to hold up his end of a bargain.
This cannot end well, and it doesn't. I was surprised that, about halfway through the film, Maud's instability leads to her being fired. I had expected more of a slow burn toward the conclusion, especially since we have been prepared for a Gothic/haunted house setup. Lights flicker, Maud experiences moments of emotional intensity that have a clear sexual component, and she becomes obsessed with saving Amanda's soul. Maud is cast out, and tries to make sense of her situation.
Maud's belief in the paranormal (i.e. the miraculous) leads to a scene in which she levitates. Or believes she does after a night out in Scaroborough. She mortifies her flesh, ever more viciously, and nobody notices. Why should they? She is utterly commonplace as she walks among folk on the seafront, with tacks in her feet. She talks to God and finally, he replies - in her native tongue. That might be funny in other circumstances, but here it is both moving and deeply disturbing.
All the way through it is impossible not to identify with Maud, her loneliness, her suffering, her need for some kind of purpose. She is dangerous and the fact that we know this while the characters talk to her as if she were just a mousey nonentity is a superb tension generator. Her final crisis is shocking despite being essentially predictable. There are not one but two deeply harrowing scenes in the last few minutes of the movie. Be warned, this is not 'gore porn' but something altogether more realistic precisely because we see things from Maud's possibly/probably deluded point of view.
Writer/director Rose Glass assembled a brilliant team on both sides of the camera. The sound design, editing, and cinematography are world-class, and the performances note-perfect. If I could think of a flaw with this film I would mention it. But the only major flaw it reveals is in us and our world. People like Maud are ignored, neglected, sometimes exploited, and driven to extremes, even as they seem to plod - devoid of obvious emotion - through lives thought commonplace, performing tasks our 'culture' only pretends to value.
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