Imagine if The Exorcist, Witness, and a soggy Sunday School lesson had a child—then promptly left it in the woods to be raised by VHS mildew and half-baked theology. That child would be Apprentice to Murder, a 1988 “thriller” that moves with all the urgency of a butter churn and has less suspense than a pamphlet about the dangers of dancing.
This film, allegedly based on a true story, is set in 1920s rural Pennsylvania, where people still think demons are the reason for arthritis and that doctors are agents of Satan. Into this world comes Chad Lowe—yes, the other Lowe—playing Billy Kelly, a poor, naive lad who falls under the influence of a folk healer/preacher/cult leader/doom enthusiast played by Donald Sutherland in full beard-and-mumbling mode.
The idea is simple: Billy gets taken in by a self-styled holy man named John Reese (Sutherland), who believes in spiritual warfare, hexes, and very bad facial hair. Along the way, Billy falls for a girl (played by Mia Sara, in yet another underwritten role where she mostly looks concerned in soft lighting), and things spiral into madness, murder, and the dark art of yelling in barns.
Let’s break it down.
Chad Lowe: Less Rob, More Bland
Chad Lowe’s performance in Apprentice to Murder can be best described as “earnest oatmeal.” He squints, he stares, and he delivers his lines like someone who’s reading them off cue cards being held by a ghost. Billy Kelly is supposed to be conflicted—torn between science and superstition, love and loyalty, sanity and spiritual psychosis. But instead of showing that inner turmoil, Lowe just sort of exists. Occasionally he raises his voice, but only enough to suggest mild indigestion, not spiritual collapse.
This is a coming-of-age story where the only thing that comes of age is the audience’s boredom.
Donald Sutherland: Reverend Boredom in the House of Sleep
Donald Sutherland is a great actor. No one is denying that. But even the best performers occasionally sleepwalk through a paycheck—and here, Sutherland is practically REM-cycling his way through the script. He plays John Reese like an eccentric uncle who cornered you at Thanksgiving to explain how Wi-Fi is powered by demons.
Reese is meant to be mysterious, a manipulative figure who mixes charisma with menace. Instead, he mostly just quotes scripture with the cadence of a haunted turnip. He walks around town looking like Rasputin’s underfed cousin, casting dark glances and talking about “evil spirits” like he’s ordering off a menu at an occult diner.
And the beard. Dear God, the beard. It deserves its own IMDb credit. It looks like it was fashioned from dryer lint and Old Testament curses.
Mia Sara: Blink and You’ll Miss Her (Blink Anyway, It’s Safer)
Mia Sara, who we all fondly remember as the only good reason to watch Legend or Ferris Bueller’s Day Off, shows up here as Alice, Billy’s girlfriend. Her job? To gaze lovingly, occasionally cry, and try (and fail) to pull Billy away from the toxic man-beard cult that has infected his life.
Sara is as stunning as ever, but the movie gives her nothing to do except stand around in church dresses and act as a vessel for Billy’s confusion. She’s the voice of reason, which means she’s completely ignored until the final 10 minutes, at which point she’s either in danger or pleading with Billy to just walk away from the murder preacher.
You’ll spend most of the movie wishing she’d just leave and go make another Ferris Bueller sequel instead.
The Plot: Nowhere Fast, in a Horse-Drawn Buggy
Set in a town so old-fashioned they think stethoscopes are witchcraft, the film’s main tension revolves around a local man supposedly cursed by evil spirits. Reese believes this man must be destroyed to stop the spreading darkness. Billy, manipulated and indoctrinated, becomes his apprentice in both healing and homicide.
Now that might sound juicy. It might sound like The Witch meets Dead Poets Society. But don’t be fooled. The actual movie consists mostly of moody glances, slow conversations, candle-lit sermons, and the occasional chicken sacrifice. It’s like Footloose without the dancing, sex, or Kevin Bacon. A rural cult drama without the charisma or teeth.
By the time anything actually happens, your soul may have left your body and ascended to a better film.
Tone: Spiritual Horror Meets Melatonin
The film desperately wants to be spooky, spiritual, and psychological. But its idea of horror is a rooster screaming and a man having a seizure in a rocking chair. The soundtrack drones along like a Gregorian chant in a coma. The color palette is washed-out brown, beige, and sadness.
Even when the final act finally delivers a murder, it happens with all the impact of a wet sponge. There’s no tension. No dread. Just the sense that you’ve been politely kidnapped by a mediocre made-for-TV morality tale.
Historical Accuracy? Who Cares, You’re Already Asleep
While the film claims to be based on a true story—one involving a faith healer who convinced his apprentice to commit murder—it treats its real-life inspiration like seasoning. Barely there, hardly noticeable, and definitely not enough to make it taste like anything.
Instead of leaning into the twisted psychology of cult indoctrination, or the dark power of rural superstition, the movie drags its holy feet through a swamp of missed opportunities. There’s no real psychological depth, no commentary, no bite. Just soft-focus fatalism and a preacher who looks like he smells like mothballs and soup bones.
Final Verdict: Not Worth the Sermon
Apprentice to Murder is the cinematic equivalent of being handed a tract by someone at the bus stop and realizing halfway through it’s not a coupon—it’s a warning that you’re going to hell. It’s slow, humorless, and so dry it could be used as packing material. The performances are wasted, the story is neutered, and the horror is as threatening as a barn cat with a limp.
There’s a good movie somewhere in this idea. But this isn’t it.
Skip this sermon and go sin elsewhere.
Rating: 3/10 — More effective than Ambien, but with less narrative payoff.
