If there was ever a film which could serve as the perfect example of a Frankenstein-like stitching together of every past popular fantasy genre film from the last thirty years or so, the unholy genre mash-up that is Priest would fit the bill.
Beginning with a stylised animated sequence (the material itself is based on a series of Japanese graphic novels) which reconfigures earth’s history and presents a place where vampires and humans have supposedly waged war against each other for centuries, we’re then introduced to a post-apocalyptic world and a rigid, theocratic state governed by men of the cloth and preceded over by Monsignor Orelas (Christopher Plummer, adding his usual gravitas to proceedings). The surviving humans here are housed in a huge walled city, where the inhabitants line up for a daily routine, ready to divulge their sins in huge metallic, industrial-looking confession booths. Priest (Paul Bettany), a former warrior in those battles with the undead, is forced out of retirement (much to the disapproval of his superiors who believe that such an act suggests treason towards the church) to save his 18 year-old niece who has been kidnapped by a pack of remaining vampires in the outside desert world.
Priest then hooks up with her boyfriend and local sheriff (Cam Gigandet) and a former member of his team who has been charged with tracking him down (Maggie Q). Together they embark on a rescue mission and quest to take down the mutated vampiric horde, who are led by a former padre and member of Bettany’s crew who has now pledged his allegiance to the dark side (Karl Urban).
Although it’s chock-full with moments of pseudo-religious nonsense and is also highly derivative, against all odds, Priest never fails to entertain. It hits all those familiar action beats you’re seen numerous times before (all slow-mo attack lunges and head-to-head video game-inspired clashes) yet somehow it manages to succeed despite an overriding sense of déjà vu almost everywhere. Some of this must be attributed to Bettany, who cuts a surprisingly lean and badass figure as Priest, complete with a laconic, Eastwood-esque drawl and fighting skills which are part kung fu (and in a seemingly arbitrary development later on) part gravity-defying superhero. He plays it thoroughly straight throughout, as does everyone else, adding to the ridiculous and fun atmosphere. Jim from Neighbours and now fully-fledged denizen of US TV land, Alan Dale, crops up briefly as one of Plummer’s cronies, momentarily taking you out of the picture, but again, his po-faced delivery is a welcomed presence.
We’re also presented with a fantastic-looking fantasy world, which is an intriguing mix of western iconography and archetypes (there’s even a travelling medicine man, played by genre fave Brad Dourif), alongside a more recognisable dystopian futuristic landscape. A powerful and sweeping score by Christopher Young really helps to build an epic sense throughout too, and the sight of Priest and his companions roaring through a vast and desolate desert on huge enhanced motorcycles, which look like they’ve been drafted in from Mega City One (the film shamelessly steals from everything and anywhere it can) is one of the many thrilling sights on offer.
Another surprisingly successful addition here is the 3D work – achieved via the post-conversion process. Where a film like Thor benefits little from the enhancement (once again making you question the studio’s unethical and exploitative handling of the medium), the quality on display here is much superior, and many should be fooled into thinking that the film was shot using that format.
Priest will never sit amongst its cribbed-from predecessors and achieve the longevity enjoyed by many of those (mainly) superior features, but it’s a fun and undemanding yarn, and will provide its intended audience with an adequate fix before what looks like an oversaturation of similar material during the summer blockbuster season.
Whatever the box office outcome, the makers appear to be wholly confident they have a hit on their hands. The film sets up the intended further escapades of Bettany & Co in such a self-assured way, you half expect to be greeted with a title card at the end which reads ‘short intermission’ before being thrust back into the action once again.
[Rating:3/5]
