The Testament Of Ann Lee

Religion-themed musicals made for non-niche audiences are rare these days, and all the more so if they’re themed around pre-20th Century music. Combine that with a true story from a neglected period in English history – the mid-18th Century – and you have something which is truly niche. Can it win over casual viewers? Perhaps; perhaps not. What is certain is that director Mona Fastvold has created something with unique value, and it’s no surprise to see major awards bodies recognising it as such.

That part of history is quite possibly neglected for the same reason that it’s interesting to those with curious minds. It’s a period during which a good deal of the philosophy that would come to define modern culture was still being worked out. The strife over the previous century’s political and religious changes had largely passed, but the sense of possibility that emerged in its aftermath had yet to be fully brought under control by the emerging church and state, and increasing urbanisation led to the rapid exchange of ideas. Some of those are still considered too radical for mainstream treatment. Others, like the theology of the Shakers, were subject to a ridicule which still persists, though today they are more often looked upon as obscure and quaint, no longer perceived as a threat which needs to be kept in its place. in fact, according to some observers, they are almost extinct.

Ann Lee was not among the first participants in what would become the Shaker movement, though she would shape them in such fundamental ways that she is often described as a founder. Fastvold’s film follows her from childhood, when she is disturbed early on by the carnality around her, perhaps associating it with the more general squalor and misery of the Manchester slums. From the outset, she seems to be in search of something better, and she finds it in a community of people who express their religious passions through their bodies, experiencing ecstatic fits (the ‘shaking’ for which the tradition was named), dancing and crying out wildly. There’s that sharing of intense emotion which football fans and concert-goers alike will recognise as intoxicating, and it quickly becomes the focus of a life scarred by tragedy, a means whereby a woman whose spirit has come close to breaking point might find herself closer to God. So close, in fact, that after experiencing visions she declares herself the second coming of Christ, and her clarity and fervour carry many people with her. In due course, she will lead them to the new world.

Originally called The Woman Clothed By The Sun With The Moon At Her Feet, the film is knowingly unwieldy, and glories in it, making no concessions to anyone. Amanda Seyfried, who has had to wait an unduly long time for a role this weighty, plays Ann completely straight, but every now and again there is a little hint that the filmmakers ae aware how much natural comedy emerges from their po-faced approach. With their constant singing and shouting at all hours of day and night, the Shakers are terrible neighbours – bad enough in the tightly packed tenements of Manchester but almost intolerable to their fellow passengers aboard the Atlantic sailing vessel where they insist on chanting the same prayer over and over again. Strong in their faith, they seem completely unaware of any civic obligations they might have to others, just as the divinely self-centred Ann, who may well be asexual, is apparently unaware of what it means when she insists that her comrades all be likewise chaste.

In accordance with her priorities, the film is consistently centred on Ann, with other characters coming and going in the background, but the quality of the supporting cast means that it’s still quite possible to make out their distinct personalities and sympathise with their struggles, sometimes to comic effect. In other cases, ceding power over central aspects of their lives to Ann appears to have a liberating effect, giving them a sense of ease in a world where they are never asked to make difficult decisions for themselves. Perhaps because Ann did not consider them remarkable, the film does not make a great show of the revolutionary aspects of Shaker thinking, such as pacifism and sexual and racial equality, but these become apparent where the group rubs up against the wider world. Ann’s furious response upon encountering a slave market when she is freshly arrived in the US is a reminder that there were always individuals who spoke out and could easily recognise enslaved people as fellow human beings.

Utopian communities are often portrayed as doomed from the start, and yet there’s little evidence that they’re substantially more vulnerable than the currently favoured model of the nuclear family. Shakerism has stood up pretty well over time, weakening not due to internal problems but rather because its economic model could not keep pace with an increasingly industrialised world. Fastvold portrays the community with respect. Its buildings are always clean and bright. Its people seem content, and for many it is a welcome refuge from a cruel world, enabling it to grow despite the lack of births. It is notable, though, that this little island of civilisation stands undefended in the midst of a country at war, which does not bode well, and its inhabitants will face some brutal challenges before the film is over.

Made with consummate care, the film stands out for its exquisite cinematography, by William Rexer, and precise attention to period detail. It unfolds slowly and sustains that pace, but patient viewers will easily find themselves absorbed. Andy Neil’s sound design is also superb and interweaves beautifully with the music. Though it may be revelatory to some, this is more fully the stuff of reverie, softly enchanting. Even where it is playful, there is a serenity about it which is another present day cinematic rarity, and deserves to be treasured.

Reviewed on: 02 Jan 2026