Mike Flanagan’s Midnight Mass Has the 5 Best Minutes in Horror TV History (& There’s Zero Blood or Scares)

by

Mike Flanagan’s 2021 Netflix series, Midnight Mass, isn’t your typical haunted house story. It’s genuinely frightening because it explores deeply unsettling themes like faith, religion, and the problems that can come with them. The show is a thoughtful, slowly unfolding story about addiction, guilt, and the danger of being completely sure you’re right. In the fifth episode, “Book V: Gospels,” it delivers a truly chilling five-minute sequence – not through jump scares or gore, but through a powerful sermon, making it one of the most haunting moments in recent horror television.

Don’t expect any typical horror tropes here – no gore, sudden shocks, or even music. The scene simply features Father Paul Hill giving a five-minute sermon on faith and death. It feels deeply personal, like a confession, but also subtly threatening. As his speech goes on, a sense of intense dread builds with every line, and this is the moment Midnight Mass truly reveals what it’s really about.

Midnight Mass’ Sermon Changed the Show in a Big Way

To truly appreciate the impact of the Good Friday sermon, you need to understand how desperate things were on Crockett Island. It wasn’t a lively place – it was a struggling community, deeply affected by economic hardship. An oil spill had devastated the local fishing industry, leaving the island’s elderly population with little hope. The island felt like a haunted place, burdened by a history of unfortunate events, including…

The story begins with Riley Flynn (Zach Gilford), who goes to prison after causing a fatal accident while driving under the influence. We also meet Erin Greene (Kate Siegel), dealing with a history of abuse, and Leeza Scarborough (Annarah Cymone), who uses a wheelchair due to paralysis. Four years after the incident, Riley is released on parole and returns home, but quickly finds himself in a difficult situation.

When Father Paul (Hamish Linklater) arrives at the isolated Crockett Island, he claims to be temporarily filling in for Father Monsignor Pruitt. But he’s not a typical priest – he preaches a message of wealth and health, promising real, physical healing. And incredibly, it seems to work. Leeza, who was unable to walk, suddenly can, and Mildred Gunning (Alex Essoe), an elderly woman with dementia, starts to regain her youth and memory.

Despite a recent wave of good fortune, a sense of unease has settled over the town. Stray cats roam the beaches, a local man has disappeared, and Erin Greene has tragically experienced a miscarriage with no clear medical explanation. The community is filled with both hope and fear, creating a palpable tension. This is the backdrop for Father Paul’s Good Friday sermon. From the beginning, he’s been a stark contrast to the previous, more traditional priest – energetic, captivating, and always seeking something more. But during this particular sermon, his true nature is finally revealed.

Okay, let me tell you about the turning point of this episode. It all hinges on a five-minute monologue delivered by Father Paul, and it’s genuinely chilling. Up until this moment, the show had been building a sense of unease, but this is where it fully dives into horror. He doesn’t give a typical sermon about forgiveness; instead, he unveils a radical, almost aggressive new interpretation of the gospel. He starts with a deceptively simple question: why do we call a story filled with pain and a gruesome death “Good News”? Then, he systematically flips the script, arguing that suffering isn’t something to be avoided, but a pathway to salvation. The core of his message? That even the most horrific things can be ‘good’ because of where they ultimately lead. And trust me, the impact of that idea is even more terrifying when you learn what he’s really getting at.

Honestly, listening to him was chilling. He talked like everything he’d done, or was going to do, was actually justified by God. It was a seriously masterful speech, though in the worst way possible – he basically gave his followers a religious excuse for anything awful they might do, making it sound almost…noble. He ended by calling them ‘God’s army,’ and it was clear he was gearing them up for something terrible. That speech was a huge turning point in the show, because it really set the stage for the absolutely horrifying events that unfolded during the Easter Vigil. It felt like everything was about to explode.

Father Paul’s Speech in Midnight Mass Feels So Unsettling For 1 Reason

The power of these five minutes comes not just from the writing itself, but from how brilliantly the acting, directing, and filmmaking come together. It’s a remarkably unsettling scene, achieved without any gore. Hamish Linklater’s incredible performance is central to its impact. He doesn’t play a typical villain, but a man genuinely, and frighteningly, convinced of his own beliefs.

He speaks with complete conviction, making every word feel genuine. His sermons don’t sound practiced – he stumbles over his words, corrects himself, and seems to be thinking on his feet. This natural delivery is what makes him so powerfully persuasive. What’s both captivating and frightening is that he’s a deeply flawed person, motivated by a twisted desire to do good, and utterly convinced he’s rescuing those who listen to him.

Mike Flanagan masterfully uses a subtle, slow zoom to make the audience feel like they’re sitting in the church, slowly becoming captivated by the sermon. But the most important element is the sound design: there’s no background music at all. The entire scene relies solely on Hamish Linklater’s voice. This technique demands that viewers really listen, and that’s when the horror truly becomes impactful and personal.

In an interview, Flanagan explained that he’s deeply affected by monologues and actively tries to incorporate their power into his scenes by using them with actors. In Midnight Mass, he used a specific technique to draw the audience in and build the unsettling, quiet horror the story required. He then stated:

This technique of building horror through subtlety isn’t new. Many truly frightening scenes rely on it. Think of the diner scene in David Lynch’s Mulholland Drive – it’s just two people talking, but creates a growing sense of unease that leads to a shocking moment. Similarly, the basement scene in David Fincher’s Zodiac is terrifying not because of what you see, but through the conversation, what’s hinted at, and the sudden feeling of being cornered.

The sermon scene is particularly effective because of its realistic, conversational feel. It’s terrifying to watch a group of well-meaning, vulnerable people slowly being convinced to follow someone who is subtly spreading harmful ideas. What makes the scene truly chilling is the underlying horror – Flanagan isn’t just delivering a speech, he’s building a convincing theological argument, and we realize with dread that it’s working.

Midnight Mass Turns Faith Into Horror

In Midnight Mass, the Good Friday sermon reveals how Father Paul skillfully uses unwavering conviction to manipulate others. The show’s core idea isn’t that religion is the problem, but rather that a lack of questioning and doubt is. As Ralph Fiennes’ character puts it, the greatest danger isn’t faith itself, but absolute certainty. Conclave implies that true faith is complex and imperfect. Fiennes’ character explains that without doubt, there would be no mystery, and therefore no need for faith at all.

What really gets under your skin about Midnight Mass is how it flips the script on faith. It’s not about believing in something, it’s about having what feels like concrete proof. Father Paul, or rather, Father Pruitt as we later find out, actually sees something – a winged creature in a cave that completely changes him. He thinks it’s an angel, and honestly, who could blame him? He experiences this incredible rejuvenation, witnesses supposed miracles, and becomes convinced he’s found the key to eternal life. The twist? That ‘angel’ was actually a vampire, and the changes he experienced weren’t divine, but… something else entirely. It’s a truly unsettling take on the idea of faith and what people will believe when they think they’ve seen a miracle.

The sermon on Good Friday showcases a dangerous level of conviction. Father Paul presents the immense suffering of the crucifixion not as tragedy, but as “good news,” claiming it was merely the “cost of eternal life.” He warns the town that God will demand terrible sacrifices, just as he did from Jesus, effectively giving his blessing to future atrocities. He’s shifted from a priest seeking belief to a commander, absolutely certain of divine justification, and is rallying his congregation – his “army” – to commit “great deeds.”

What really struck me about Midnight Mass wasn’t just the miracles themselves, but how differently people reacted to them. Characters like Riley Flynn and Sheriff Hassan weren’t simply disbelievers; they were men deeply wounded by life, haunted by their own personal tragedies. Seeing these supposed miracles didn’t fill them with hope, but actually caused them immense pain. They wrestled with questions like, ‘If God can perform miracles, why didn’t he save my loved ones?’ or ‘Where was God when I needed him most?’ It became clear that their beliefs – or lack thereof – were a way of making sense of a world where they felt abandoned. Accepting these new miracles as genuine would mean invalidating all the suffering they’d already endured, and that was something they couldn’t do.

In Midnight Mass, the show highlights the contrast between Father Paul’s unwavering belief and the doubts experienced by the other characters. This conflict is mirrored in the show’s use of alcoholism as a metaphor. In Episode 2, Father Paul persuades Riley to skip his regular support group meeting for a private conversation. During this talk, Riley openly expresses his skepticism, questioning how a benevolent God could allow suffering and rejecting the notion that suffering has value. This exchange embodies the show’s core theme: Riley, as an addict, has spent his life struggling to manage his cravings and the destructive impulses within him – essentially battling an ‘addictive voice’ throughout his adulthood.

These elements explain the show’s popularity, even with viewers who don’t typically enjoy this genre. When Riley becomes a vampire, he relives the overwhelming feelings of powerlessness and craving he’s experienced before. However, this time he has agency. Father Paul, who hasn’t struggled with this kind of temptation, views this craving as a positive, even a gift from God. Like anyone struggling with addiction, the priest and his followers rationalize their desires by creating a belief system around them. Riley, having already gone through this experience, understands the true nature of their compulsion.

Wow, the end of Episode 5 really hit me hard! Father Paul telling Riley he’s ‘the chosen one’ felt huge, like God had specifically marked him to share this… gift. But it’s so bittersweet, because it finally gave Riley something he’d been searching for his whole life: a purpose. I honestly expected him to be overwhelmed by the power, but he surprised me. He didn’t give in – he chose to actually be a force for good, to stop the spread of whatever was happening and save everyone, even if it meant sacrificing himself. It’s incredibly tragic, but also so inspiring to see him embrace being a true agent of God and face his own death to protect the community.

In just five quiet, impactful minutes filled with a sermon, Mike Flanagan perfectly encapsulates the terrifying heart of Midnight Mass. He demonstrates that real horror can be found in what people say. Father Paul doesn’t simply deliver a sermon—he captivates his audience. Even with all the violence, it’s the power of his words that truly sticks with you, making this one of the most frightening and memorable scenes in horror TV history.

Read More

2025-11-05 03:39