Religion and horror. I mean, where to even begin with this pairing. The two have been cuddled up with each other from the very beginning of the genre, literally. Georges Méliès silent short film The House of the Devil, made in 1896, is considered by many to be the first horror movie (as tame as it may feel to modern sensibilities). There are witches and cauldrons and crucifixes and a bat that turns into the devil. Fast forward to Mary Shelley’s novel Frankenstein and we have a story that’s about challenging God’s authority over creation. In the 60s and 70s, we had the big three; Rosemary’s Baby, The Exorcist and The Omen – and since then we’ve not looked back. Some of the biggies from recent years have been religion based; Heretic (2024), Immaculate (2024), Longlegs (2024), Hereditary (2018), The Witch (2015). And then there’s the Conjuring Universe, the genres most financially successful horror franchise. It’s latest addition, The Conjuring: Last Rites just smashed the opening weekend record for a horror movie in the US. There’s no escaping it. Even in a first world where secularism continues to flourish, our appetite for old school holy horror doesn’t appear to be on the wane. If anything, we just keep wanting more. Which is just as well because a new Italian horror movie called The Holy Boy has just come out!

Sergio (Michele Riondino) is a middle-aged guy (and former Judo champ) struggling to come to terms with a recent personal loss. He’s turned to alcohol to try and dull his pain, a decision which doesn’t feel very compatible with his newly acquired role as a substitute teacher in the seemingly tranquil Italian village of Remis He’s only there for three months though, so he has no plans to put down any roots. The money he earns will simply pay for his anguished existence for a little longer. He soon learns that his new (temporary) hometown has a bit of a tragic past - it was the site of a horrific train crash a few years ago, one that personally affected many of his new neighbours. However, they seem to have recovered from those losses. In fact, everyone in the village seems remarkably well adjusted and content – and there’s a reason. Sergio finds out first-hand what this is shortly after his arrival too. The gorgeous woman (Romana Maggiora Vergano) who runs the local bar sees how much emotional distress he is in and one evening takes him to see Matteo (Giulio Feltri), one of Sergio’s high school students, who is seemingly being held up as some kind of saint by the local. Sergio is told to embrace this unassuming teenager, adorned in a flowing white gown. He does and to his amazement, discovers that his suffering vanishes immediately. But as Sergio soon finds out, a troubled teenage kid with otherworldly powers might be a combustible combination…

It might be a bit reductive to describe The Holy Boy as Carrie meets The Omen…but it’s not entirely inaccurate. Still, that comparison undersells Paolo Strippoli's subtly unsettling horror, which, despite sharing a few narrative beats with those '70s classics, establishes a distinct identity and tone all its own. It’s initially an absorbing pastoral drama; a character study of two very different characters who, despite all the other noise in their life, gradually form an unlikely friendship. One that seemingly starts to partially fill the gaping holes in their lives. One is missing a son and the other has a father that shows him no affection whatsoever. The performances across the board are all decent too, but special praise should be reserved for both Riondino and Feltri, whose chemistry propels the narrative forwards, especially in the second act.

The first half contains very little overt horror. It’s purposefully slow and melancholic, with muted cinematography to match. You might even think that you were watching a scandi style crime drama or something. But even early on there is a very subtle sense that something is a little off. Sergio gradually acclimatises to his new surroundings, but grows a little suspicious of his new neighbours. On the surface, Remis feels like any other traditional rural village, where everyone seems to know everyone and where the church is still revered. Matteo, revered by locals, is treated as something of a modern saint; his embraces have, seemingly, brought peace to the town. Yet there’s a discomforting devotion among the villagers that begins to feel… rather cultish. There's a thin line between piety and fanaticism and we're often unsure where these people sit within that spectrum. For much of the film, the true source of danger remains unclear: is it Matteo himself, or those who revere him? While Matteo’s supernatural gifts appear real, it’s equally clear he is imprisoned by them - trapped in a role he didn’t choose.

Although this is largely slow burn horror, there’s more than enough quiet menace and mystery to keep you fully engaged. It’s like a pot of water, slowly simmering away until the last fifteen minutes or so, when the heat is suddenly cranked up and that slow rolling boil becomes something much fiercer. That pot is fully overflowing when we reach our jaw dropping climax in the school gymnasium. There is a fair bit of pain and suffering endured in the final act but as the film suggests, maybe that’s not the worst thing in the world. In fact, maybe it’s even necessary for retaining our humanity.