Amanda Seyfried is mother—quite literally—in The Testament of Ann Lee, Mona Fastvold’s stirring new biopic about the founder of the Shaker movement. With Seyfried at the center, the film unfolds as an intimate character study, accompanied by unconventional musical and dance sequences that transcend the screen.
Seyfried anchors the film with a performance that is both commanding and vulnerable, embodying Ann Lee as more than just a historical figure. She crafts such care in the progression of Ann Lee from girl to young woman to Saviour. It is, in many ways, a coming-of-age story of biblical proportions. You feel the warmth radiate off of her in the same way Lee’s followers must have, and you, too, fall under her spell.
The ensemble surrounding Seyfried only strengthens this spell. Thomasin McKenzie, Christopher Abbott, Tim Blake Nelson, David Cale, and, most memorably, Lewis Pullman, bring depth to the world Fastvold builds.
Pullman, playing Ann’s brother William, proves to be the film’s quiet centerpiece. His chemistry with Seyfried is a pleasure to watch, adding greater depth to a character that could be seen as faultless. Through their relationship, and those around Ann, we come to know her beyond the Mother she is, but the human at the heart of the tale. It is precisely through these relationships that we see how she could inspire such a devoted following—one rooted in love and acceptance, birthed from heartbreak and struggle.
The film is not without its faults. In moments between its ecstatic musical sequences—the majority of its runtime—it often retreats into familiar biopic territory. It’s a simple plot that follows one person through the course of their life, and, no matter how fascinating the subject, it can feel tiresome. We’ve seen this framework time and again, and even with Lee’s complexity, the formula drags.
Seyfried’s wide eyes give you a peek at heaven itself as she blesses us with her gifted voice. You are filled with spiritual ecstasy that leaves you wanting more. When the film pulls you back to earth, back into its traditional biopic, the deflation feels almost intentional, as if what it must have been like to participate in the Shaker movement, slipping between transcendence and reality.
Nonetheless, the sheer conviction of Fastvold and her team is undeniable. When they let loose, many of the faults can be forgiven. The reverence for Ann Lee radiates through every frame, making it difficult not to be swept up in the devotion and struggle of this extraordinary figure. Ann Lee’s story is so cinematic through the role that music and movement played in her life, and is well-crafted in Fastvold’s hands. Fastvold directs with boldness, unapologetic in her technique, which, paired with Daniel Blumberg’s musical accompaniment, has you levitating out of your seat.
What ultimately carries The Testament of Ann Lee is its palpable reverence for its subject, a devotion that radiates through every element of the production. There is no malice or judgment passed onto these characters. The film insists that Ann Lee’s vision—which may have seemed strange but was rooted in radical love—deserves to be remembered. It is a story about those who did not fit into their time period, but nonetheless lived unapologetically.
Even if the film falters, that conviction alone makes it worthwhile and is what makes the film so profound. Movies, at their best, bring to light stories forgotten or overlooked. Fastvold and Seyfried finally give Ann Lee the recognition she deserves as they weave this revolutionary figure into the tapestry of history.
The Testament of Ann Lee may stumble in structure, but its daring vision and Seyfried’s luminous performance make it a biopic that lingers long after the credits roll and demands to be seen more than once. I had struggled to put into words my thoughts on this film and can feel them swaying along as time moves on, but I am nonetheless thinking of it, chewing on it, desiring to dive back into it, which all good movies should do.
Review Courtesy of Kam Ryan
Feature Image Courtesy of TIFF