The Testament of Ann Lee is one of those films that caught me off guard. I went in knowing almost nothing about the Shakers, and honestly, it’s not a slice of history I’d ever gone out of my way to explore.
What I got instead was a deeply absorbing period film that pulled me in fast and didn’t let go. The story traces the origins of the Shaker movement through the life of Ann Lee, and even if you’re coming in cold, the film gives you enough grounding to appreciate just how strange, intense, and compelling this journey really was.
What really locked me in was how personal the story feels. This isn’t a dry history lesson or a stiff biopic. It plays more like an emotional immersion into belief, struggle, and devotion. Knowing it’s rooted in real events only makes the viewing experience more wild.
I found myself completely wrapped up in Ann Lee’s path, watching her faith evolve into something powerful enough to move people across continents. It’s fascinating stuff, and the film treats it seriously without talking down to the audience or winking at the subject.
Amanda Seyfried is the engine that makes all of this work. Her take on Ann Lee is intense, vulnerable, and fearless. This easily ranks among her strongest performances, if not the strongest. She carries the film with a physical and emotional commitment. It’s amazing her lead scenes that blend spirituality, music, and raw human conflict. It’s hard to imagine another actor pulling this off with the same conviction.
I was lucky enough to see The Testament of Ann Lee projected in 70mm, and that experience elevated everything. The cinematography is gorgeous, the compositions, the natural light, and the lived-in environments give the film a tactile quality that I appreciated. You feel the mud, the wood, the sweat, and the isolation. The production design does a ton of work, grounding the film even when it leans into more heightened moments.
The music also plays a huge role, and it’s one of the elements I responded to the most. Shaker hymns and newly composed songs are woven directly into the storytelling. Each musical passage flows naturally into the next, and I found myself leaning forward every time a new song began. The choreography and movement give the music a physical presence that fills the screen and the room, especially in a theater setting.
This isn’t a movie that’s going to click with everyone. It’s demanding, occasionally uneven, and very committed to its own rhythm. It also takes risks that plenty of modern films wouldn’t dare touch. But I respected the hell out of that.
The direction by Mona Fastvold fully embraces the intensity of the material, pushing the film into places that feel almost feverish at times. That willingness to go big makes the experience feel alive and unpredictable.
The Testament of Ann Lee delivers something genuinely unique and different. It’s rare to come across a film that feels this singular, especially one centered on faith and history. Seeing it in a theater made all the difference, from the scale of the images to the way the music moved through the space.
I wouldn’t have pegged this as a must-see for myself, but I’m really glad I took the chance. If you’re even a little curious about the Shakers or just want to experience a period film that actually swings for something special, this one’s worth your time.
