Film Review: The Two Popes

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Valeria Fernandez-Soriano reviews Fernando Mereilles’ latest film The Two Popes.

Award-winning director Fernando Mereilles interplays theology, pop culture and national identity in the Netflix original, The Two Popes, to create an unexpectedly entertaining yet frustratingly coy film.

Furrowed brow, my dad stares back at me disconcertedly on my screen, as I FaceTime him in the Barbican café. “The Pope? What is it, propaganda?” 

Staunchly agnostic, he embodies the side of Argentina that regards religion, and particularly Pope Francis, with cynicism. Undoubtedly, his family’s experience of oppressive and institutionalised religion during the Dirty War shaped our upbringing. Strange for a Latin American family, our household was “culturally Catholic, spiritually agnostic”. This phrase was coined by Mexican actor and director Gael Garcia Bernal, and is increasingly common today in circles where religion used to be at the forefront of everyday life. Ending the call, I entered the movie theatre with reinforced scepticism. 

The film begins in 2005, during the papal conclave (canonical elections for the Bishop of Rome, otherwise known as the Pope), following the death of Pope John Paul II. Ratzinger (Anthony Hopkins) is the favourite to be elected, however Jorge Bergoglio (Jonathan Pryce) presents a threat, as fellow priests sense a need to reform the Catholic Church to keep its 1.2 billion believers. As we know, Ratzinger is successful and becomes the 265th Pope. Fast forward to 2013, Bergoglio travels to Italy to request an early retirement, citing a discontent with the direction of the Church and a desire to dedicate himself wholeheartedly to humanitarian efforts. Meanwhile, scandals and the subsequent decline of the Catholic faith suggest time is ticking for the rigidly conservative Ratzinger. The film almost entirely follows a conversation spanning a few days, as the two elderly men debate the existence and form of God, the purpose of the papacy and the future of the Church in an increasingly progressive world. 

The humour within the film was unexpected, as Pryce and Hopkins deliver an amusing back and forth. Their chemistry is palpable over the course of the film. Their national identities provide important comedic reference points within an institution that often seems to create a nationality of itself. Not only do the overarching cultural frameworks of Argentina and Germany serve to humanise the two men, but their link to the normal world is subtly illustrated through Ratzinger drinking Fanta in his residence and Bergoglio in a raucous bar watching football, or gushing over the Beatles. It’s a stark contrast to what often seems like an extremely opaque institution, emanating a haunting grandiosity.

Eventually, the two find common ground, possibly best encapsulated by the scene in which Bergoglio teaches the reluctant Ratzinger how to dance tango. Initially awkward and out of time, the two gradually move to the same rhythm, suggesting an underlying unity despite ideological divisions. The insight into the processes of the Church, such as the election rituals, politics and conventions, are gripping, and the cinematography is visually stunning.

While entertaining and funny, artistic license obviously encroaches on historical accuracy, and fails to adequately address the shortcomings of the Catholic Church. The narrative is unabashedly skewed in Pope Francis’ favour, as at times the relationship between him and his predecessor seems pantomimic, seemingly identifying the Church’s scandals with an individual, rather than affirming collective responsibility. Moreover, mention of Bergoglio’s involvement in the Dirty War feels extremely rushed, and even then the pre-ordained narrative of the Pope as a martyr prevails.  At its most absurd, parts of the conversation between the two men are bleeped out; the audience is left to deduce by their expressions that the allegations of child sexual abuse have arisen in the dialogue. Properly tackling the scandals that have led many to justifiably question the Catholic Church’s legitimacy as a pillar of morality would have made the film more fulfilling to watch, but clearly the director’s objectives were elsewhere. 

Ultimately, the film does not entirely correlate with reality, but it is nevertheless witty and enjoyable to watch, even more so because Pryce and Hopkins’ performances are faultless, as expected from such brilliant actors. The point of the film is less to directly address external factors, and more to explore the dynamic between the two living popes as a microcosm.