WWho knew that democracy’s arduous process of simply voting over and over again could be so exciting and fun? Edward Berger’s drama was adapted with masterful flair by screenwriter Peter Straughan from Robert Harris’s page-turner; Ralph Fiennes is in brilliant form as the deeply troubled Cardinal Lawrence at the center of a sinister conspiracy in the Vatican. The result is a high-camp gripper, like the world’s most serious carry-on film.

Fiennes’s character is Italian in Harris’s book, but Straughan makes him English: a troubled soul who is theoretically on the verge of becoming the first English pope since Adrian IV, although no one is so vulgar or nationalistic as to point that out . While the ailing Pope is in extremis, Cardinal Lawrence arrives at His Holiness’s deathbed and meets other ambitious cardinals, all of whom have cultivated an obscure, illegible kind of warm and respectful friendship with one another and are now seeking to be considered as successors in the upcoming conclave to be drawn. or choice. In this top-notch supporting cast, Stanley Tucci plays Bellini, the liberal; Sergio Castellitto is the combative, reactionary Tedesco, a racist fanatic; John Lithgow is Tremblay, whose mild-mannered manner is misleading; Lucian Msamati is the bullish Adeyemi; and Carlos Diehz is Benitez, an unknown figure who, to everyone’s polite consternation, was appointed Cardinal Archbishop of Kabul without anyone noticing. But all of these men are overshadowed by the late Pope’s confidante, Sister Agnes, skillfully played by Isabella Rossellini.

Lawrence is deeply burdened by his own crisis of faith and suspicion that dark forces are at work: the eternal sadness in Fiennes’ eyes becomes an unfathomable double ocean of suppressed tears. The Pope dies without granting Lawrence his wish to resign as Dean of the College of Cardinals, and also without being able to reveal what he knew about dark secrets about one or more of these candidates; This means that a corrupt person may be on the verge of becoming Pope. Poor, reticent Lawrence finds himself the progressive Bellini’s unofficial cheerleader during the voting rounds, but finds, to his dismay, that his own vote count increases each time. Should he have the humility to accept this mysterious fate? But if the burden of authority makes it impossible for him to uncover this corrupt conspiracy, might not the Prince of Darkness present him with a terrible temptation?

Berger orchestrates wonderfully tense, explosively dramatic scenes and, together with cinematographer Stéphane Fontaine and production designer Suzie Davies, creates some spectacularly strange and dreamlike tableaux. I can never quite get over the feeling that there is something bizarrely sacrilegious about the actual depiction of this voting process (much like Nanni Moretti’s 2011 film We Have a Pope). As for Fiennes, his performance brings great joy; I myself have always dismissed his supposed resemblance to a certain 1970s TV comedy actor, and yet I saw it in the extraordinary scene where he learns something amazing about one of the cardinals and sits down with his mouth slightly agape must.

And so the conclave becomes an exciting horse race with a photo finish; The esteemed novelist with whom I saw this film told me as I was leaving that the story was taken entirely from National Velvet. That may be so; but what a performance from Fiennes.