Film Review: The Testament of Ann Lee (2026)
Biopic makes the Shaker religion’s origins pretty and ugly
Eighteenth-century England was a hotbed of Christian pluralism. In addition to Catholics and Churchmen, a variety of English Dissenters, Unitarians and Moravians, and newer groups like the Methodists were vying for membership. Then along came the Shakers, known for their physical perturbations when in religious ecstasies. Shakerism is an all but forgotten movement, but the biographical film The Testament of Ann Lee is sure to rekindle interest in this dying religion, some might say heresy.
The film begins with figures in 18th-century garb lurching into bizarre poses as they cross a forest floor, thus warning viewers that they’re in for no ordinary film. Ann Lee is pious, hard-working and mistrustful of venery from an early age, and she carries these traits with her through life as she marries, joins a group of “Shaking Quakers” and transports her sect, centered around her as the Second Coming of Christ, to New York shortly before the American Revolution. There, Shaker communities struggle to establish themselves, eventually fluorish, and suffer persecution. Throughout, there’s enough song and dance for the film to feel at times like a musical.
In the role of Ann is Amanda Seyfried, known to many for her early work in Mean Girls and Mamma Mia! Casting a great beauty to play a historical personage can undermine gravitas with dazzle, but it’s the perfect time for Seyfried to tackle a weighty starring role. Not only is she about the age Lee was when sailing to the Thirteen Colonies, but she has paid her dues and developed her chops for decades, often in roles her initial starpower would have seemed to preclude. She’s simply overqualified for bit roles as in Twin Peaks: The Return and dorky horror films like Things Heard & Seen. Thus, she’s the foremost of many strengths in The Testament of Ann Lee.
The film’s other big strength is its song and dance. Daniel Blumberg (The Brutalist) composed most of the music based on Shaker hymns. These tunes have their own charm in their original forms, but their presentation in the film is rarely old-timey and quaint, and this is to the film’s credit. It fits well with the strikingly modern dance, designed by choreographer Celia Rowlson-Hall (Birds of Paradise). As the cast members sing, they engage in everything from reimaginings of Shaker frenzies to avant-garde herk and jerk and Broadway musical sway and stomp. Except for one goofy number, the film’s music works.
Get J.P. Williams’s stories in your inbox
Join Medium for free to get updates from this writer.
Despite modern touches, the makers of this movie have clearly done their research. After shutting off my Firestick, I immediately revisited a text I read a few years ago about the Shakers and immediately ran across quotes from movement leaders such as Mother Ann’s brother William Lee that appeared almost word for word in the film. I also noted images in the film that seem drawn from the relatively scant literature available on the Shakers, such as a chair hanging on the wall. The Shakers were well known for their craftsmanship, which was simple and sturdy.
Consequently, The Testament of Ann Lee has much you want in a historical drama. The direction by Mona Fastvold (The World to Come) is immersive, the costumes and sets are convincing, and the script, co-written by Fastvold and Brady Corbet (The Sleepwalker), deploys dialogue with enough antiquated diction and syntax to feel realistic without sounding stilted. The accent spoken imagines what the Manchester dialect may have sounded like back then, and while it strikes me as a bit iffy and the cast seems to slip in and out of it, linquists and accent coaches like Tanera Marshall (The Hunger Games: The Ballad of Songbirds & Snakes) do fascinating work.
Modernism serves the film well in visual presentation and soundtrack but less so in worldview. Mainstream creators in film and television shy away from inspiring depictions of faith on the assumption that we’ve moved past all that. Thus, even House of David works great for fans of ancient fantasy but offers as much theology as a Sunday School lesson for pre-schoolers. Similarly, The Testament of Ann Lee treats its characters’ faith without depth, like something to gawk at from a safe distance. Religiously minded folk might find themselves wishing for a more sympathetic and probing portrayal of ardent spirituality.
Yet the biggest problem is the film’s psychologizing. Ann is a product of neuroses revolving around sex, violence and trauma. She disliked seeing her parents copulate, she disliked her husband’s insistence on fellatio and spanking, and she suffered from the deaths of her infant children, and this determines her. Far be it from me to reject the insights of pyschoanalysis, but we should remember it’s a late modern discipline. People in other times likely had drives we can’t fathom. Emily Brontë, who lived between Ann Lee’s and Sigmund Freud’s lifetimes, would have watched director Emerald Fennell’s Wuthering Heights in utter confusion.
In the end, The Testament of Ann Lee is robust cinema, but not every joint is seamless. The credits include graphics on Shaker populations, noting there are only two — as in two people total — Shakers remaining today. Are we to feel sad that a rich tradition has dwindled to near extinction? After the uglier aspects of the film, in which Lee’s admirable traits, her devotion to God and consequent abolitionism, are balanced with sexual hangups and possibly a deceptive scheme or madness, warm feelings don’t come naturally. Yet the filmmakers may have sought exactly this uncomfortable union of narratives, for what is history if not resistant to oversimplification?
For readers interested in Shakerism, I recommend Catholic comparative religionist Thomas Merton’s essay “Pleasant Hill” in Mystics and Zen Masters and Shakers Compendium by F.W. Evans. The endroll of The Testament of Ann Lee lists two works easily obtainable for Kindle: Testimonies of the Life, Character, Revelations and Doctrines of Mother Ann Lee, and the Elders With Her by Rufus Bishop and Mother Ann Lee by Nardi Reeder Campion. Hollywood has given us another movie, but its true worth lies in redirecting us to our human heritage in the real world.
