Saint Clare
Saint Clare
In a small town a solitary woman is haunted by voices that lead her to assassinate ill intended people and get away with it, until her last kill sucks her down a rabbit hole riddled with corruption, trafficking and visions from the beyond.
jackmeat reviewedJuly 26, 2025
My quick rating - 4.2/10. Bella Thorne stars as a soft-spoken vigilante in Saint Clare, a movie that dares to ask the question: what if Dexter (yes, I am finally binging ALL of this show) had way less blood, no tension, and hung out with a ghostly postman instead of doing anything remotely horrifying?
Set in a quiet town where people go missing almost as fast as the film’s pacing, Saint Clare follows Clare Bleecker, a college student who moonlights as a part-time angel of death, offing the “evil” in society—though you’ll have to take the film’s word for it, because the evil-doing is mostly implied via gossip and shady auras. Instead of actual wrongdoing, most of the targets come off like people who cut in line at Starbucks or forgot to tip.
Thorne does her best to bring a strange, dazed gravity to Clare, but the poor girl seems perpetually confused, even when she’s stalking bad guys, attending weird school plays, or chilling with her grandma (played by Rebecca De Mornay, who’s so unrecognizable I kicked myself for not realizing it was her). And yes, that was Frank Whaley as Bob the mailman, her undead conscience-slash-guide who died due to a mix-up that makes Weekend at Bernie’s look like a documentary on responsible living.
The trailer teased visions from beyond, which sounded ominous, but really just means Bob shows up now and then to deliver cryptic life coaching with all the urgency of someone handing you expired coupons. The horror? Nonexistent. The action? Sparse. The tension? Let's just say the real suspense came from wondering if Ryan Phillippe's detective would ever do anything more than squint at Bella in disbelief.
And oh, the twist. When the trafficking ring’s Big Bad is finally revealed, it hits Clare like a ton of bricks… despite being telegraphed so loudly, I’m surprised she didn’t get a postcard about it from Ghost Bob. By the time Clare starts connecting the dots, you half expect her to accidentally stab a mirror and yell, “Aha! It was me all along!” (don't worry, that isn't it)
Mitzi Peirone directs with a steady-enough hand, but the tone can’t decide if it wants to be eerie, philosophical, or a CW pilot. It ends on a “you'll be seeing more of Clare” note, which might be the scariest thing about the whole film.
In short, Saint Clare is like if Ghost Whisperer and Revenge had a baby, but forgot to feed it any plot. Thorne fans might enjoy her performance—she’s committed, even if the script isn’t—but for the rest of us, this is more Saint Snore than Saint Clare.