Where there is power, there is politics – a truth artfully observed in Edward Berger’s stunning feature film Conclave. It was a 2024 release in most of the world; Australia received it this January. Had I managed to see it earlier there is a very good chance it would have been my favourite film of last year. Instead it is in the running to be my favourite of this year.

The pope, leader of the global Catholic Church, has died. Under the supervision of the dean of the College of Cardinals, Thomas Lawrence (Ralph Fiennes), a successor must be elected. While several candidates are immediately apparent, settling on a choice is a process of religious contemplation and discussion – but also behind-the-scenes politicking, hostile confrontation, and crude manipulation. In an abstract sense the process is intended to be guided by God. In practice, conclave is all too human and corrupt.

I am not a religious person, although I do respect others’ right to be. I am also fascinated by Catholicism, a near-two thousand year-old institution that has formed the backbone of much of European history. It has inspired great art and knowledge, and also great tragedy and horror, not I think because the Church is particularly good or bad but simply because it was so prevalent in so many people’s lives. I cannot walk past a European cathedral without stepping inside to marvel at the architecture. I cannot go past a feature film that tackles issues of Christian faith. Out of all of the world’s major religions it seems the one best suited to drama. People can do good things or bad. Most will do both. The struggle in-between seems the exact focus point where it has placed its flag.

There is an additional frisson to Catholicism, as it exists in a seemingly constant tension between an old world and a new one. It has progressed over time, albeit never smoothly, but still strikes a powerful balance between ancient traditions and contemporary considerations. Aesthetically it is beautiful. This all adds up: I cannot speak to the spiritual comfort and sense of community the artefacts of the Catholic Church provides to more than a billion people, but I can speak to its dramatic effect. This is a culture that looks phenomenal, carries gravitas, speaks to core human issues, and is extraordinarily dramatic while doing it.

As it follows, Berger’s film combines all of those same elements. He embraces the phenomenal beauty of the Vatican in Rome, with the help of cinematographer Stéphane Fontaine and production designer Suzie Davies. Volker Bertelmann contributes a striking and effective string-based musical score. These elements frame and support a debate over the future of the Church, but more importantly they frame the ambition and ethics of individual cardinals as they jostle for influence and power. The core strength of Berger’s film, as well as Peter Straughan’s screenplay adaptation of Robert Harris’ novel, is that lines up the ideals of the Church against these human motivations and then uses one to rigorously interrogate the other.

That interrogation focuses most of all on Dean Thomas Lawrence, played in a genuine career-best performance by Ralph Fiennes. It is a multi-faceted take, each one reflecting volumes of thought and carefully considered performance. He is emblematic of that contrast between the old and the new, decked out in elaborate medieval robes in one scene and fumbling to use a photocopier in the next. He is a faithful Catholic leader, yet simultaneously feels dragged down by doubts over his church and his own behaviour. There are two powerful moments that linger: in one he angrily insists he has no ambitions for the papacy himself, and his friend Cardinal Aldo Bellini (a marvellous Stanley Tucci) argues that every Cardinal does – each has already picked out a papal name in their head. Much later, in a moment of emotional vulnerability, Lawrence admits his papal name would be John.

A group of rival Cardinals is exceptionally well cast: not just Tucci but John Lithgow, Lucian Msamati, and Sergio Castellitto, each providing a contrasting papal candidate. Some are more liberal, some conservative. The film clearly favours the liberal end of the debate, but still provides some dignity and respect for the other side. Also impressive is Carlos Diehz as Father Vincent Benitez, an unexpected arrival at the Vatican whose presence begins to disrupt the expected proceedings in surprising ways. His presence is not the only surprise threatening the election. Events rise in sudden twists and turns, some more believable than others, but all of them treated with the same powerful realism and measured seriousness.

The Church hierarchy is overwhelmingly male by canon law. It is then a tremendous relief to see Isabella Rossellini playing Sister Agnes, who manages the housekeeping for the Cardinals and who becomes increasingly entwined in the events of the election. She is predictably superb, but also provides a modicum of variety and balance against the tide of middle-aged and elderly men.

This is a handsomely staged film, peppered with fascinating ritual and detail, populated by a world-class cast, and focused almost entirely on human interaction and moral drama. It is truly sensational stuff. It is, in the best possible sense, a new classic of conventional narrative drama. It is pure, unadulterated, mature drama.