NEW YORK (OSV News) — Oh, those creepy Christians! Such is the underlying sentiment discernible through most of the running time of the psychological horror film “The Front Room” (A24).

A late plot development — not to be detailed for fear of a spoiler — completely derails this already problematic chillfest, however, as the script moves from implicitly disdaining an off-kilter version of scriptural faith to justifying a grave crime. In light of that climactic stance, the movie is unsuitable for all.

Pseudo-sophisticated anthropology professor Belinda (Brandy Norwood) peddles a feminist version of Dan Brown-style hooey about comparative religion in the college classroom while coping with emotional trauma behind the scenes. As we eventually learn, pregnant Belinda and her husband, public defender Norman (Andrew Burnap), had a son who died in infancy.

Already-beleaguered Belinda finds her woes multiplied once Norman’s recently widowed stepmother, Solange (Kathryn Hunter), moves in with the couple, occupying the chamber of the title — which was originally intended to be the family nursery. Solange is a devious religious fanatic who believes she is being guided by the Holy Spirit.

As this mother-in-law from hell increasingly blights Belinda’s life, viewers are invited both to revel in Solange’s malicious antics and to sympathize with her victim. Among other things, Solange capitalizes on her supposed incontinence to create disgusting situations for Norman and Belinda — and nasty visuals for the audience.

Repeatedly wallowing in her own filth, Solange declares, in her Southern drawl, “I’m a m-e-s-s, mess.” As adapted from Susan Hill’s short story by screenwriters and debuting directors Max and Sam Eggers, the same can be said for “The Front Room” itself.

The film contains skewed values, shadowy marital lovemaking, gross scatological images, about a half-dozen instances each of profanity and milder swearing, much rough language and occasional crude talk. The OSV News classification is O — morally offensive. The Motion Picture Association rating is R — restricted. Under 17 requires accompanying parent or adult guardian.

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A Kevin Smith film is a warm embrace to me from an old friend. While there are those who have long dismissed the auteur as unserious, I consistently find his work to be compelling, emotional, and a genuine reflection of his creative spirit. More than that, Smith has a tendency that flies under the radar to defy expectations. Who would have guessed that Clerks III would tell the story it ultimately told? So, while a teen romantic comedy would seem like an opportunity for Smith to be as crude as ever, The 4:30 Movie is actually one of his sweetest flicks ever. I’m an easy mark for him, but regardless of that, I smiled and had a great time for about 90 minutes.

The 4:30 Movie is a love letter to the multiplex. It’s also a tribute to young love and summer romance. Smith doesn’t completely avoid going blue or working in raunch, but in many ways, it’s as pure and experience as we’ve seen from him since Jersey Girl. Even a raunchy effort like Zack and Miri Make a Porno was still covering up a huge mushy heart from the filmmaker, so here, he’s just letting it beat even more out in the open. He loves love, to be sure, but he also loves movie theaters.

Taking place in the summer of 1986, Brian David (Austin Zajur) has two plans for the day. One is to spend the Saturday afternoon like he always does, with best friends Belly (Reed Northrup) and Burny (Nicholas Cirillo) sneaking into multiple movies at their local theater. The other is to ask Melody Barnegat (Siena Agudong) on a date. One flirty yet awkward phone call later and she’s going to join him for a movie later on that day. There’s the slight hiccup of it being an R-rated film, but they’ll figure that out later. The important thing is Melody is coming and Brian is on cloud nine. Then, it’s time to join Belly and Burny for some theater-hopping.

When the self-important theater manager (Ken Jeong) bans one of the gang during their movie marathon, Brian’s plans are thrown for a loop. Whether it’s Melody’s overprotective mother (Kate Micucci), Brian’s own mom (Rachel Dratch) who calls the theater to talk to him, or any number of other occurrences, the world seems to be conspiring against Brian. He still believes in the possibility of summer love, which Burny takes issue with. In true teenage fashion, it all comes to a head before wrapping up in a surprisingly sweet manner. I was charmed throughout.

This cast is a mix of young up and comers in the bigger roles and celebrity cameos popping up throughout. Austin Zajur is the star and the Smith stand-in, doing a good job of suggesting the artist as a younger man. His chemistry with the odd Reed Northrup and too cool for school Nicholas Cirillo feels like that of real childhood friends. Zajur’s interactions with Siena Agudong are also a highlight, as they play off of each other very well. Agudong has an ethereal quality to her that’s well captured. Ken Jeong is having a lot of fun as an old-fashioned teen movie villain, while Rachel Dratch and Kate Micucci effectively play very different types of embarrassing parents. The aforementioned cameos include Logic, Method Man, Betty Aberlin, Jeff Anderson, Diedrich Bader, Jason Biggs, Rosario Dawson, Ralph Garman, Jason Lee, Justin Long, Jason Mewes, Adam Pally, Sam Richardson, Genesis Rodriguez, Harley Quinn Smith, and more.

Filmmaker Kevin Smith really mines his teenage years for material here, with the result being quite enjoyable. Fans will recall several of his stories from childhood popping up either as anecdotes or actually plot moments. It’s a nice quality that the script doesn’t require you to know them for these sequences to work. It’s just specificity that adds to the flavor of the broth. As for his direction, it remains simple, though shooting in the multiplex he used to frequent and now owns serves as inspiration, as well as smart budgeting. He’s also delighting in crafting both fake trailers and a fake movie that our heroes are watching. Those bits of creativity make The 4:30 Movie stand out even more so than it already does. At the same time, he never loses sight of the love story at its core. Sure, there are jokes about where film culture would be headed, but mostly, this is about a teen boy who wants to kiss a teen girl again.

The 4:30 Movie is a joyful burst of nostalgia and one of Smith’s sweetest efforts to date. Fans of the multi-hyphenate will get a kick out of this lark, without question. It’s such a lovely change of pace for him, while still showcasing all of his strengths. I had such a good time with it and I suspect that you will too. As Smith continues to explore his craft in new ways, I’m 100% here for it!

SCORE: ★★★1/2

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The most compelling moments in Scott Beck and Bryan Woods’ mostly sharp religious horror Heretic involve Mr. Reed, a cerebral theologian played with reptilian persuasiveness by Hugh Grant, intellectually sparring with two young Mormon evangelists. Grant, whose eager eyes and puckish smile wooed Renée Zellweger’s Bridget Jones and Julia Roberts’ Anna Scott (Notting Hill), uses his signature charm here to test the bounds of these junior missionaries’ beliefs. He imbues his character, a sinister recluse, with a well-intentioned disposition that soon reveals itself to be an unsettling trap. Heretic, which premiered at the Toronto International Film Festival before it hits theaters November 15, sells Grant as a convincing villain and makes you wonder why he hasn’t played more of them. 

Mr. Reed is the kind of guy whose intense gaze and off-color jokes betray a bizarre personality that’s initially easy to ignore. That’s what happens with Sisters Paxton (The Fablemans’ Chloe East) and Barnes (Yellowjackets’ Sophie Thatcher), two campaigners deployed by their chapter of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints to convert this curious soul. When the women reach his house —  at the top of a steep set of stairs integrated, Frank Lloyd Wright-style, into a grassy hill — they are eased by Mr. Reed’s candor and warmth. Most people treat the proselytizers like the plague. An early scene in which Sister Paxton is publicly humiliated by a group of teenagers captures their standing in this community. 

But Mr. Reed is different. He invites Sisters Paxton and Barnes to come inside, assures them that his wife is home (Mormon women can’t be alone with a man, they say) and even offers them blueberry pie. Never mind that his movements suggest some malevolence, that he can’t stop staring at a surgical mark on Sister Barnes’ arm or that his questions edge into more personal territory. So rare is his attentiveness to faith — he takes out his own annotated copy of the Mormon bible — that Sisters Paxton and Barnes decide to disregard their anxieties. That, of course, is a mistake. 

Beck and Woods, best known for creating A Quiet Place, confidently set up the initial chills of Heretic. Working with long-time Park Chan-wook cinematographer Chung-Hoon Chung and The Hunger Games production designer Philip Messina, the directorial duo focuses on the uncanny details of Mr. Reed’s home to establish a haunting tone. The wallpaper — a sickly yellow pattern — coupled with the lack of windows and the meticulous placement of the furniture cast doubt in both our and the girls’ minds about the trustworthiness of their host. 

The hostility of the space becomes more apparent the longer Sisters Paxton and Barnes chat with Mr. Reed. His enthusiasm verges on pushy, a sign that alerts Barnes, especially, to the danger of the situation. By the time the women realize they are in peril — the doors won’t open, the pie doesn’t exist — it is too late. Mr. Reed reveals himself to be a kind of religion obsessive, a self-taught scholar of faith and belief. His studies have led him to some disturbing conclusions, which he maps out for Paxton and Barnes in one of Heretic’s most fun and distinctive scenes. All that can be said is that it involves Monopoly, Jar Jar Binks, Radiohead and the Hollies.

Grant delivers his verbose musings with the composure of a professor and the velocity of a fanatic. He paces around the back room, where he has corralled his guests, and unveils props to support his points. Chung uses overhead shots to capture Mr. Reed’s desktop — a neatly organized tableau of religious texts and versions of the Monopoly board game  — which recalls a Renaissance triptych. 

Heretic is quite compelling in these early moments, which include Paxton and Barnes’ entrance as well as Mr. Reed’s presentation. East and Thatcher’s performances play a big role in keeping us hooked. If Grant is the wily villain, these actresses are the savvy horror protagonists worth rooting for. A gripping transition occurs as Mr. Reed intellectually ambushes these women, whose faith gets tested in the most extreme manner. East’s Sister Barnes pulls us in first with her shrewd observations and fearless reproach of Mr. Reed’s logic. But soon we’re watching Thatcher, who smartly leverages Paxton’s perceived naivety throughout the film.

Like The Assessment, another offering at this year’s Toronto International Film Festival, Heretic is most compelling as a three-character chamber drama. The charade between Mr. Reed, Paxton and Barnes helps to distracts from the screenplay, which wobbles under analytical pressure. Beck and Wood, at first, seem intent on interrogating the pitfalls of modern religion, but their narrative never goes all the way in its criticism. Once Mr. Reed moves on from his speeches and into more conventional horror-villain machinations, so too does Heretic distance itself from its most fiery theses. While it doesn’t totally diminish the thrill of watching Grant’s character revel in his own supposed cleverness, it does make the enterprise disappointingly shallow. A thread with a Mormon leader pursuing an earnest search for the missing girls similarly goes nowhere beyond a cheap joke done better earlier in the film. 

The relationship between Paxton, Barnes and Mr. Reed remains the most absorbing thread throughout Heretic. Even when the screenplay heads into deflating territory — trading potential acerbity for more neutral conclusions — their cat-and-mouse game keeps us curious and faithful.