Let’s talk about the curious case of ‘Holy Days’—a film that promised to be the cinematic equivalent of a triple threat but ended up feeling more like a lukewarm compromise. I’ve seen movies that fail to deliver on hype before, but this one feels particularly disheartening. Why? Because it’s not just another underwhelming indie flick. It’s a project that had all the ingredients for magic: a stellar cast, a bold premise, and a director with a reputation for daring choices. And yet, it somehow managed to feel like a missed opportunity wrapped in a tired formula. What makes this especially frustrating is that we’re in an era where audiences crave originality, yet here we are, watching a film that seems to check all the boxes but never truly breaks any boundaries.
The so-called ‘Australian actress trifecta’ is a term that should inspire excitement, right? Three powerhouse performers in one film? That’s a recipe for something memorable. But what I found instead was a collection of talented individuals playing it safe. There’s a strange tension in the way their performances are delivered—like they’re all trying to outdo each other in subtlety while the script demands they shout into the void. Personally, I think this speaks to a broader issue in modern cinema: the pressure to balance star power with substance. When you cast three A-listers, you expect them to elevate the material, not the other way around. And yet, ‘Holy Days’ feels like it’s holding its breath, waiting for someone to take the lead. It’s a film that’s too afraid of its own ambition.
What really grinds my gears is how the film’s premise—a nuns-on-the-run caper—could have been so much more. Imagine a story where the characters aren’t just fleeing from danger but grappling with existential questions about faith, identity, and the absurdity of their situation. Instead, we get a series of clichéd set pieces and dialogue that feels like it was written in a spreadsheet. One thing that immediately stands out is the complete lack of stakes. These nuns aren’t just running for their lives; they’re running from a world that doesn’t understand them. But the script never lets us feel that. It’s like watching a thriller where the villain is a poorly written antagonist who never threatens anyone beyond the third act. What this really suggests is that the filmmakers were more interested in ticking off genre tropes than in creating something that resonates emotionally.
And let’s not forget the elephant in the room: the film’s visual style. If you take a step back and think about it, the cinematography is so aggressively bland that it feels like a deliberate choice. There’s a certain irony in a movie that’s supposed to be about liberation and freedom being shot in such a sterile, lifeless way. It’s as if the directors wanted to make sure the audience never forgot that this was a ‘safe’ film—no risks taken, no bold colors, no moments that might challenge the viewer’s comfort zone. A detail that I find especially interesting is how the film’s aesthetic mirrors its narrative: both are devoid of passion. It’s a perfect encapsulation of a project that’s too afraid to be anything but average.
What makes this particularly fascinating is the contrast between the film’s potential and its execution. We live in a time where audiences are hungry for stories that don’t just entertain but provoke thought. ‘Holy Days’ could have been that kind of film—a story that uses its premise to explore deeper themes. Instead, it’s a reminder that even the most promising projects can collapse under the weight of mediocrity. This raises a deeper question: when will Hollywood (or in this case, the Australian film industry) stop chasing formulas and start trusting its storytellers to take risks? Because if we keep getting films like this, we’ll continue to see a landscape where talent is wasted on projects that never dare to be anything more than safe bets.
