The Pope and his cardinals make surprising stars for a blockbuster. Edward Berger’s thriller Conclave, which eschews the traditional memes through which Christianity comes alive, purports to shine a light onto the Church’s dark heart. Sex, money, power and puffed-up prelates: cardinals are corrupt and self-serving. So much, so new. But this adaptation of Robert Harris’s novel lacks the subtlety to explore that subject inventively. There are exquisite moments, of course. Who could get enough of Sergio Castellitto’s oafish far-right Italian nationalist porporato? Half camp cliché, half Matteo Salvini, he looked as if he had wandered in from casting for Emily in Paris.