Movie musicals have faced a stagnant period as a result of culture’s infatuation with nostalgia. The best cinematic musicals of recent years have been either deliberate throwbacks (La La Land), remakes (West Side Story), or tied to existing stage shows (Wonka), but wistful replication can only go so far. The creative failure of movie musicals like Wicked, The Color Purple, Mean Girls, and Dear Evan Hansen is an indication that the wrong takeaways have been grasped from the Golden Age of Hollywood. Classics like Singin’ in the Rain or An American in Paris were groundbreaking in their time, but to embody their aesthetics in a contemporary setting is regressive and artistically spineless. The Testament of Ann Lee isn’t intended to be a commercial play, but its unapologetic willingness to experiment is oddly reminiscent of the works of Stanley Donan or Vincente Minnelli.
The Testament of Ann Lee is a period piece with deliberately ornate historical details that has also pushed the medium in a new direction. If musical interludes are typically used to explore latent thoughts, intimate conversations, or emotional expressions, then Mona Fastvold's ambitious epic has framed itself around the way that its subjects perceive the world. The root of all religions is the presumption that there are underseen or indescribable forces at play that can only be perceived by believers who’ve made the necessary sacrifices for their faith. The Testament of Ann Lee is a glimpse into the events that inspire this degree of commitment, and how these obsessions can reshape an understanding of reality. It’s also one of the most admirable production successes of the year; with $10 million, Fastvold has made a film that would put most studio and streaming releases to shame.
The Testament of Ann Lee will inevitably be compared to The Brutalist because it’s another endeavor by Fastvold and her husband, Brady Corbet, who co-wrote and produced both films; The Brutalist was directed by Corbet, and Fastvold was at the helm of The Testament of Ann Lee. It’s not the first time that Fastvold has started a dialogue about the endangered freedoms of women during the Colonial era, but her underrated queer neo-western The World to Come was a far more intimate, stage-like production. The Testament of Ann Lee is a spiritual successor to The Brutalist in the sense that they’re decades-spanning epics about victims who find tranquility in their restorative ambitions, and both films are anchored by powerful lead performances by notable stars in comeback roles. However, The Brutalist was a loving tribute to the historical epics of the New Hollywood era, whereas The Testament of Ann Lee is nearly venomous in its disparagement of standard song-and-dance films.
Loosely based on real events, The Testament of Ann Lee is the story of Ann Lee (Amanda Seyfried), who was raised in the Society of Friends in Manchester amidst the Evangelical revival. Although her family’s poverty and the abuse faced by women have already taken a toll on Ann, the loss of four children in their infancy has rendered her heartbroken and spiritually aimless. However, Ann isn’t so burdened by tragedy that she has given up her beliefs, and has instead found new revelations about the key to serenity with Jesus Christ. Ann’s recognition is that children of God would connect with their maker through a puritan lifestyle in which they’re celibate and devoid of Earthly pleasures.
Fastvold has removed all judgment from her depiction of the Quakers through the abstract formation of each musical number; the music itself is derived from chants that slowly form into hymns, which is an embodiment of the rationale found by Ann and her followers. On a fundamental level, it’s easy to see why Ann’s belief that an uncomplicated life would be fulfilling, but Fastvold doesn’t jeer at her feverish dedication. This is a result of Seyfried’s performance, the best of her career, which is split between maternal omnipotence and defensive logic. That Seyfried’s beautiful voice is an outlier within the caustic sounds of the other performers is an explanation as to why her words stood out within a crowd.
Fastvold has found a way to show the repetitive nature of religious literature without the suggestion of a cult-like madness; although there’s some cryptic imagery used to visualize Ann’s revelations, each declaration of beliefs is the result of instinctual grunts and statements of self-actualization that become realized through song. The musicality doesn’t just grant sympathy to Ann’s perspective, but is a tool used to manage through the film’s scope. The elegiac dance numbers in The Testament of Ann Lee quickly establish how each of Ann’s teachings were used in practice. They’re also an indication that Fastvold is interested in the employment of an unambiguously cinematic experience; the film’s most stunning number, in which the Quakers’ immigration to America is cross-cut between locations, has the multi-faceted choreography that could never be achieved on the stage.
Fastvold isn’t blind to the derisive way in which the “Shaking Quakers” have been historically depicted, and there’s unexpected humor within the awareness of how exaggerated Ann’s strict adherence to intimate conservatism would be. Corbet and Fastvold have an interest in historical ironies, and the sympathetic portrayal of a now dormant religion may invoke controversy. Yet, The Testament of Ann Lee isn’t unwilling to dig into the eventual thinning of the Shakers out of cowardice, but because it has pinpointed a specific moment in history in which proclaimed moral purity was seen as rebellious. The technical wizardry on display may have only been accomplished in 2025, but the ideas at play in The Testament of Ann Lee are timeless.