Immaculate Review: Sydney Sweeney Is Electric in a Film Looking to Get Under Your Skin

The chemistry required to make a film so cohesive cannot be overstated. Immaculate's director, Michael Mohan, reunites with Christian, Reamer, and Sweeney, having previously worked together on The Voyeurs.

The benefit of holding off on making a film until the timing - and the team - is right is demonstrated by what the crew behind Immaculate has accomplished.

Sweeney read the script over a decade ago, and through the connections she has built during her time in the industry, she assembled a team to bring Andrew Lobel's debut feature screenplay to life.

Immaculate feels both voyeuristic and incredibly personal, using grand swooping shots that twist into claustrophobic close-ups, giving us both the perspective of the omniscient higher power and Sweeney's Cecilia.

We are the watcher and the watched as we walk through the carefully crafted frames of the film, descending further into madness.

Despite its aesthetic cohesion, one thing isn't working: the film's riotous finale threw off a carefully curated tonal balance.

Immaculate takes itself seriously but lightly peppers in sardonic humor early, which feels somewhat like a device to warrant the hysterics of the final act.

But it doesn't pay off.

It doesn't feel like a script issue, more so a directorial one, but Sweeney does enough to keep it captivating and inquisitive, not cheapening the foundation built at the beginning.

Sweeney, as Cecilia, is the anchor.

She is electric and hasn't been better on screen to date. Some moments are so sick and twisted yet so gratifying because she has carried us on her shoulders. We have watched every inch of her struggle, so her - quite frankly - repulsive final moments do not feel grotesquely unwarranted.

Immaculate feels like the kind of film that wants to get under the skin but doesn't judge you for not being on board. Many films with this tone feel self-serving and smug, cruelly pointing the finger at the audience members who disengage and shut down when faced with brutality.

Sometimes, films that want to subtly discuss the female body and autonomy without a glaring signpost miss the mark massively and do the exact opposite of what they set out to achieve. Immaculate does the opposite.

Does it always pay off? Perhaps not. However, the goosebumps and spine-chilling moments will force you to lean in and engage with what it's offering, and that, in itself, is enough of an accomplishment.