Part two of Ulrich Seidl’s Paradise trilogy is a stark, morally complex study of blind belief, lightened by black laughs and Seidl’s static, deadpan compositions.
What are people saying?
What are critics saying?
It’s hard to say if Faith works better as part of a whole instead of a triptych’s single panel until the trilogy is complete, but the unconverted may find this too much of a cross to bear.
Slant Magazine by Diego Semerene
A shallow film that leaves us knowing exactly what we're seeing, and able to predict what the characters will say to each other in the mostly uninspired and overtly familiar dialogue.
The constant juxtaposition of scenes showing the dark and light aspects of the characters endows the pic with a juicy moral complexity that will stimulate post-screening debates.
Village Voice by Michael Atkinson
Though we're never allowed a close-up, Hofstätter's performance comes off as an unselfconscious tour de force, painfully real and culturally lost.
The A.V. Club by Mike D'Angelo
A powerful final scene reveals that Seidl knew exactly where he was going. But the journey is stultifyingly static, repeating the same basic information over and over with only negligible variations.
The Playlist by Oliver Lyttelton
For all its abrasiveness, the film is also capable of real tenderness.
The Guardian by Peter Bradshaw
There are plenty of Seidl's signature grotesques, extended uncomfortable scenes and hardcore imagery owing something to Lucian Freud and Diane Arbus. But perhaps for the first time there is also a hint of ordinary human heartbreak.
The Telegraph by Robbie Collin
This is cinema as decathlon – a string of tribulations to sap your stamina and make your ligaments burn.
Laying bare his characters, Seidl uncovers the doubt beneath the armour of religious belief.