Holy Days has its heart in the right place. There’s a sincerity to its craft and thematic musings on life and death, but it’s obfuscated by stale comedy and recycled road movie plot beats.
Holy Days operates under the assumption that nuns doing unorthodox things are guaranteed kneeslappers. Yes, these nuns pray to the good Lord, but they also smoke, drive cars recklessly, swear through hand gestures, and even drink wine of the non-communal variety. In one scene, one of them tries to enter the sea in her undergown, the back end of her clothes looking deliberately cut out to reveal her bum. This might be enough to get the occasional giggle, but sustaining a 100-minute picture is another matter.
The film is the feature debut of Nat Boltt, who holds an impressive resume of acting credits from District 9 to Riverdale. In an interview with Paul Risker, she said that Holy Days – an adaptation of Joy Cowley’s 2000 novel – has been likened to Hunt for the Wilderpeople and Little Miss Sunshine, two great movies worthy of taking inspiration from. There’s an earnestness to her film that’s difficult not to admire, with themes that would fit snugly into the pastiche of the aforementioned films. Sadly, it’s too routine in its plotting and comedy to leave the same impact.
In 1974 New Zealand, a trio of nuns manage a rundown convent. Their leader, Sister Agnes (Judy Davis), is firm but fair; intolerant of nonsense, yet nonetheless loves thy neighbour. For decades, the convent was a haven for orphans and single mothers in their community. But nowadays their only regular visitor is Brian Collins (Elijah Tamati), a young boy struggling with his mother’s passing, so much so that he’s butting heads with his father Joe (Craig Hall) and new stepmother, Liz (Boltt).
This woe of Brian’s is unironically compelling. Brian prays to God that he’s “ready to go”, a naive request that showcases deep anguish. He eagerly helps around the convent, boasting a good rapport with the nuns. But this dedication is built on a desire to get to Heaven and see his mother again, so much so that he’s neglecting a life he still has years to live. There’s a real pathos that juxtaposes with the film’s eccentric score and bright colour palette. Holy Days celebrates life as an adventure, but the amiable aesthetic is also a reminder of what Brian’s grieving is causing him to neglect.
Unfortunately, this powerful material is usually stuck in the rearview mirror, leaving formulaic tropes to drive the story. Agnes learns that their new Bishop, the stony-faced Chaytor (John Bach), has given property developers the go-ahead to tear the convent down. Agnes remembers that the deed is in her name, the paperwork being with their lawyer Patricia (Tanea Heke), who happens to be Brian’s aunt. With limited time, Agnes, alongside Sisters Luke and Mary Clare (Miriam Margolyes and Jacki Weaver respectively), decide to hell with it. They “borrow” the car of their layabout priest (Jonny Brugh) and, with Brian in tow, race to get to Patricia’s and back.
Road trip comedy clichés, with nun-themed tweaks, ensue. They race arrogant drivers – in this case, hippies. They run out of petrol. They bribe a police officer to get out of a speeding ticket. They argue over directions and important decisions, using Bible passages to justify their positions. This includes an admittedly humorous moment where they’re able to cash a winning ticket they stumble across, thus covering the trip’s financial needs. Otherwise, you’re watching the sisters engage in unpious behaviours of temptation and petty vices. They race against the clock to beat the establishment while trading in obvious punchlines. Chief among them is confusing words for things nuns stereotypically ask penance for, namely one moment where wee Brian mixes prosecution with prostitution. Very funny.
It’s inoffensive, even good-natured, but it’s so predictable, too. That’s a pity because the lead trio have strong chemistry together. Davis has a titanic presence that easily commands respect. As much as her no-nonsense persona is tested, the love Agnes has for her convent is genuinely heartfelt. The way faith and empathy influence her strict persona makes her a fun, if familiar, protagonist. Davis’s dynamic with Weaver is especially good, the latter’s giddiness and anxiety contrasting with the former’s stringency despite their characters’ shared goal. Margolyes is clearly having fun as well, but sadly her role is a walking punchline. Sister Luke constantly falls asleep, forgets things, and seemingly loses her teeth in every third scene. Films like this, and The Thursday Murder Club, should know that old people doing old people things are not inherent equations for jokes. Executed incorrectly, such tactics are belittling rather than endearing.
Playful filmmaking gives the picture some flair. Stop-motion animation of a toy car resembling the nuns’ vehicle acts as time-skip transitions, merrily adding to the film’s thematic sentiments on life being an adventure. The New Zealand landscapes are photographed beautifully. The colours of the costumes and art direction leap off the screen, the film’s palette visually hinting at its beliefs that death shouldn’t be feared and life should be embraced. One wishes the poignant themes of grief, faith and community weren’t so commonly sidelined for redundant conflicts. Brian goes missing at least twice, causing search parties where the characters call his name out constantly. Brian’s name is spoken, shouted, and dictated joyously so frequently that I wrote in my notes, “I’m Brian and so’s my nun”.
Holy Days has its heart in the right place. There’s a sincerity to its craft and thematic musings on life and death, but it’s obfuscated by stale comedy and recycled road movie plot beats. There’s some entertainment value for fans of feel-good romps, but little else that hasn’t been covered in better comedies or religious stories. Despite its tagline of “Breaking the Rules, Keeping the Faith”, there’s nothing memorable or outrageous enough to warrant confession.
Holy Days is playing in cinemas nationwide from August 14.
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