The Two Popes
The Two Popes may be a filmmaking masterpiece, but what happens in it — so to speak — only happens in the movies.
Technical assessment: 4 ★★★★✩
Moral assessment: 3 ★★★✩✩
CINEMA rating: V 18
NETFLIX rating: R16
Marketed as being “inspired by true events” The Two Popes presents the story of Pope Francis (a.k.a. Jorge Bergoglio) from the time he attempts to submit his letter of resignation as Archbishop of Buenos Aires up to the time he is elected Pope. The film opens with Pope Francis trying to book a flight by phone which the booking agent rejects as a joke. For what pope would do that by himself? Only Pope Francis, who has come to be known as a “different” pope — an image that the film projects in its 125-minute run through intercuts and flashbacks from when the layman Bergoglio was discerning his priestly vocation and through other turning points in his life. The Two Popes highlights the election of Cardinal Bergoglio to the papacy, and ends with actual footage from the real-life Pope Francis’ travels abroad and his visit to his predecessor Pope Emeritus Benedict XVI in the latter’s retirement home.
Where the art of filmmaking is concerned, The Two Popes deserves a crown of laurels for its technical excellence. Adapted from Anthony McCarten’s play, The Pope, the film has as its main protagonist the Roman Catholic Church’s 266th pope, Francis, played with zeal and soul by Jonathan Pryce (High Sparrow in Game of Thrones). Chosen as foil to Francis is Pope Benedict XVI, a character made alive by Anthony Hopkins as only Anthony Hopkins could. These two seasoned actors nailed it, both at verbal jousting and non-verbal communication. But it’s not just the spot-on acting that makes The Two Popes worth watching.
The clever use of VFX coupled with cinematographic mastery — particularly in the (authentic looking) Sistine Chapel and the Vatican interiors — gives the viewer a ringside seat to the intimate exchanges between Cardinal Bergoglio and Pope Benedict XVI, and to the closed-door, cardinals-only conclave during the papal election. Carefully measured close-ups, meticulously timed and tempered, create articulate frames that dispense with speech. Sharp editing makes for a seamless juxtaposition of shots — in vibrant color or in monochrome, of the present day or from way back when.
The title “The Two Popes” is actually a misnomer, for only during the last 15 minutes of the film does Jorge Bergoglio become a pope; prior to that he is — albeit a cardinal — still the Archbishop of Buenos Aires. It helps to remember this fact in order to evaluate the movie in the proper perspective. In addition — it can’t be said often enough — the primary player here is Francis; this is his story, not his and Benedict’s. (Even in the film awards circle, Pryce is nominated for Best Actor, while Hopkins is for Best Actor in a Supporting Role). An attention to detail may reveal to the discerning viewer the film’s consistent bias towards Francis. Brazilian director Meirelles is certainly adept at manipulating details to send subliminal messages here. Music is used to heighten the contrast between Bergoglio and Benedict: jazz, Besame Mucho, tango, Dancing Queen to denote fire in the veins of the Argentinian papabile, and classical music, a lullaby, and a pre-war Berlin cabaret song made famous by one Zarah Leander for the old fogey German pope who thinks Abbey Road (Sound Studios) is a church, and the Beatles song Eleanor Rigby is a “who” and not a “what.”
Further, after Benedict’s renouncement of the papacy, and as the chopper lifts him off the Vatican grounds, the Beatles song “Blackbird” is played in the background — a meaningful detail alluding to Benedict the shackled ruler: “Blackbird singing in the dead of night, take these broken wings and learn to fly. All your life, you were only waiting for this moment to arise… Take these sunken eyes and learn to see. All your life you were only waiting for this moment to be free…” There’s one other detail besides music which adds to Benedict’s aural identity: his monotonous tracker prodding him at the oddest moments, “Don’t stop now. Keep moving, keep moving.” Yes, we get it — it’s saying Benedict is a lead-footed pontiff in a stagnant Church.
The superior role of Francis in the film is also subtly asserted through body language, perhaps in the name of artistic license. In the confession scene (also used in the movie’s promotional posters), Archbishop Bergoglio grants absolution to Pope Benedict while standing up. In body language, the man standing while the other is sitting down with his head bowed wants to say “I am stronger and more powerful than you.” (Any self-respecting Catholic knows that the confessor is seated when he does this at the confessional box — personifying a merciful Father to the kneeling penitent).
In another scene, the pope is playing the piano and offers wine to Bergoglio; the latter stands up to fetch the wine and — the camera zooms in on his hand patting the pope’s shoulder. What is that close-up for but to show who the boss is between the two? Body language experts say the person who touches is the leader, the dominant one, while the one who is touched, the follower. The same message is slyly sent when Bergoglio insists on teaching Benedict a dance move or two in full view of the (shocked) papal aides and the Swiss guard. Bergoglio takes the lead again, assuming the male partner’s position, while the half-willing pope sways awkwardly along to a tune replaying in his mind — his favorite Berlin cabaret song by Zarah Leander. (FYI: In the film, the supposed Smetana lullaby and the Berlin cabaret song the pope plays on the piano are in reality Anthony Hopkins’ original compositions, but Benedict’s supposed unforgettable favorite, Zarah Leander, is not fiction. Leander was a sultry, legendary Swedish singer/actress with a colorful career and was an active collaborator of the Nazis during the Third Reich. The question is — why link cabaret, Leander, and Nazi to Benedict? Do the math).
The Two Popes is so perfectly crafted that certain viewers mistake it for the real thing. Here is where CINEMA flashes the yellow light. Countless times we have heard people say after seeing it, “So that’s what happened!” Because two venerable actors dressed up as Princes of the Church lend credibility, even dignity, to the fictitious dialogue, it behooves CINEMA to subject the film to scrutiny and to present this full length review. The Two Popes appears so convincing it could confuse the audience. The unquestioning viewer might even believe it is a documentary, thus Catholic film critics take care to point out that there are “serious errors” in the film. (To know which is fact and/or fiction in the film, please check out the links provided at the end of this article).
Being dialogue-driven, The Two Popes easily succeeds at engaging the viewer with thought provoking lines that spice up the God talk. At various interviews with media, director Meirelles said “I wanted to make their conversations interesting and entertaining, otherwise it’s just two old men talking… very boring.” To fabricate the conversations between the “two old men” author McCarten reportedly exerted efforts to read up on some writings (letters, homilies) of the two pontiffs. The finished product, at best, bears the fruit of the filmmakers’ imagination and interpretation of events, projecting Francis and Benedict, therefore, through the filtered lenses of an author who admits to being a lapsed Catholic and a director who is an avowed agnostic. Both Meirelles and McCarten are (in their own words) “admirers of Pope Francis”, but judging from the words they put in the archbishop’s mouth here, it is only Francis the media darling that they are rooting for, the pope whose words are often misconstrued, misquoted, and taken out of context by so-called influencers who take advantage of misperceptions to push their agenda. In fact, in making Bergoglio talk and behave as he does here — with a sassiness that borders on disrespect — the film is being unfair to the real-life Bergoglio.
And what of Pope Benedict XVI? If during his papacy he was criticized, after this film he might be condemned by the misinformed majority — a sad case of trial by cinema, indeed. Benedict is depicted as pathetically rigid, authoritarian, out of step with modernity, desirous of the pomp and power of the papacy, an intellectual whose pastoral ideas belong in a museum. Although Benedict displays agility at their theological swordplays, it is Bergoglio who is the aggressor. If their exchange in the garden of Castel Gandolfo were a boxing match, Bergoglio would pummel his opponent with a litany of issues he believes the Church has spinelessly addressed: divorce, birth control, homosexuality, priestly celibacy, sexual abuse among the clergy, and forgiveness of erring priests as a mockery. Benedict would absorb the blows with reason and calm, until he has had enough. and then delivers a swift uppercut: “You say you no longer wish to be a cardinal archbishop. I ask you, are you sure you still want to be a priest?” Bergoglio is stunned speechless. Benedict presses on:
“I don’t agree with anything you say!” and walks away, leaving the tango-loving archbishop immobilized and lost in the deafening chirping of the cicadas. This is the only moment in the film when Bergoglio is knocked down, and Benedict is given his 20 seconds of glory.
Meirelles claims his intention is not to dwell on a Good Pope vs. Bad Pope theme. “What I like is this idea of two guys who (at first) didn’t like each other but had to learn to listen,” he says. “That was tolerance. Nowadays we don’t like to hear people with whom we disagree; we prefer to kill them.” His good intentions notwithstanding, the final outcome still throws the two men into a gilt cockpit— not as the gamblers but as the cocks clawing at each other over the prized St. Peter’s chair. Benedict and Francis here are but caricatures in a narrative too simplistic to do the Church any good. In fact, The Two Popes may actually register as a veiled reproof of the Catholic Church, done through the mouths of the fictitious Vicars of Christ. It harps on issues: those raised by Bergoglio in the garden are an elaboration of a caption the film superimposes on a documentary clip of Pope John Paul II’s funeral — “Pope John Paul II’s papacy marked an end to liberalization and a return to harsh condemnation of homosexuality, abortion, contraception, and the ordination of women and married men.” It projects cardinals as mere politicians: during the conclave, they lobby and campaign as if to elect a town mayor. It pictures popes as being spiritually bankrupt: Francis is obsessed with his idea of change and Benedict cannot hear the voice of God.
The filmmakers found our popes fascinating and got “inspired” enough to spin a tale around them — but they used the pontiffs as mere canvases on which to project their ideological fantasies. When ambitious artists with skillful hands attempt to paint a likeness of the Church without seeing the Holy Spirit working in her, the portrait turns out distorted. The Two Popes may be a filmmaking masterpiece, but what happens in it —so to speak — only happens in the movies. — TRT
The following sites will tell you more about what is true and what is not true in The Two Popes:
https://www.firstthings.com/web-exclusives/2019/12/two-popes-too-many-untruths
https://angelusnews.com/arts-culture/the-shallow-definition-of-dialogue-in-the-two-popes/
https://aleteia.org/2020/01/04/what-is-truth-and-what-is-fiction-in-the-movie-the-two-popes/
https://www.americamagazine.org/arts-culture/2019/11/27/two-popes-whats-fact-and-whats-fiction
DIRECTOR: Fernando Meirelles LEAD CAST: Anthony Hopkins, Jonathan Pryce, Juan Minujin SCREENPLAY: Anthony MacCarten CINEMATOGRAPHY: César Charlone PRODUCER: Dan Lin, Jonathan Elrich, Tracey Seaward PRODUCTION COMPANY: Netflix EDITING: Fernando Stutz MUSIC: Bryce Dessner DISTRIBUTOR: Netflix GENRE: Biographical Drama COUNTRY: United Kingdom, United States, Italy, Argentina LANGUAGE: English, Spanish, Italian RUNNING TIME: 125 minutes
