Conclave, directed by Edward Berger, is based on the book of the same name by Robert Harris. It has been nominated in several categories for the Academy Awards and may even win Best Picture. Conclave stars Ralph Fiennes, Stanley Tucci, John Lithgow, and Isabella Rossellini. Most of the commentaries I’ve read focus on what the film gets wrong about the Catholic Church. (Here are some examples but they do contain spoilers). But from my perspective, it is worth noting what the film gets right.
Vatican City is beautiful.
An easy first claim, but part of what the film does well is to show the grandeur of the Vatican. The architecture, art, and costuming express the beauty and rich traditions of Catholicism. In the hands of cinematographer Stéphane Fontaine there are some spectacular shots. The Church is big on tradition, and the emotive experience of watching the film is one of appreciation for the ways in which the Church creates and sustains beautiful places, places that enable us to feel rooted in a tradition and all of its smells and bells and gorgeous linens.
The Church is a sexist institution.
What may seem subtle to some viewers was particularly striking for me. The women religious are working behind the scenes in roles of hospitality –conforming to gender stereotypes that continue to be promulgated in official church teachings–while the clergy are in position of actual power and decision-making about the future of the church. It is painful when characters within the film assume that women exist to serve men’s needs (sexually or otherwise), and to see men who benefit when women are kept in subservient roles. While there is creativity in how some women use power within patriarchal systems, demonstrated in the film when Sister Agnes (played by Rossellini) collaborates with Cardinal-Dean Lawrence (Fiennes), she does not do so as his equal, and women do not vote within the conclave itself. In a key scene, Sister Agnes has to remind the churchmen that God also gave women eyes and ears. Though these aren’t currently the body parts that make one eligible for ordination in the church, perhaps change will come eventually. While the final scene with laughing nuns certainly ends positively, I see this more as an end to the immediate drama than peace-resulting-from-justice.
Holiness and sin go hand-in-hand.
Much of the commentary I’ve seen focuses on the ways in which influential cardinals within the film try to advocate for their favorite candidates to the papacy. Some of this falls along the existing fault lines of Catholic ideologies: Bellini is the Western white liberal; Adeyemi represents socially conservative African values; Tremblay wants a status-quo conservatism; and Tedesco wants to roll back reforms initiated by Vatican II. Everyone thinks they are right, and that the Holy Spirit is on their ‘side,’ and this gives them license to use their power to shape what they think is the best outcome. Without going into too many spoilers here, I’ll just say that the portrait of power-hungry clerics feels right. I’ve met and been mentored by many holy priests whose ministries inspire selfless love and commitment to the gospels. But this doesn’t describe all people who are ordained or who have taken religious vows. My experience of the church is that there are a lot of very good people and sometimes there are assholes too. The call to be holy is a call to all of us, but ordination is not a magical blessing that makes someone perfect. We know that the Curia needs reforming. We know that power corrupts and that the laity have for some time sought additional mechanisms of oversight and control over diocesan budgets, but most lay leaders are only in advisory roles. As someone who is lay and outside of those power structures, one of the things that felt most realistic about the film was the behind-the-scenes conflicts (both personal and inter-personal) between our human potential for goodness and our human proclivity to sinfulness.
Sexuality is complicated.
The movie has a twist. I won’t go into details except to say that I thought it was effective. Having recently listened to the podcast Tested, which describes differences of sex development and explains ongoing impacts to international athletics, the fact that the film takes up the question of intersex identity and the potential impact to church teachings and practices didn’t strike me as a crazy plot twist. Instead, the piece that resonated with me the most was the wise counsel of Benitez who “exists between the world’s certainties.” In his speech about terrorism, Benitez speaks from experience about the horrors of war and demonstrates the flaws of an “us versus them” ideology. Benitez becomes an internal correcting influence because of the value of wisdom from lived experience. The implications for ecclesial conversations about sexuality are provocative — what corrections are needed, and whose lived experiences should be centered so that the church can engage in that self-correction?
The Church moves slower than the turtles.
My favorite ecclesial symbol within the film is when the cardinal rescues the slow-moving and confused turtle. I’m middle aged now, and one very real possibility that I see is that I will die before women are treated as equal to men in all aspects of canon law and church governance. The church moves so slowly. The hard shell of the turtle symbolizes protection and the turtle’s long life span points to wisdom-keeping and endurance. These are true also of the church. But in the film the turtle escapes and ends up confused, so Cardinal Lawrence has to rescue it. This has been his role for the duration of the film, and he rescues the last turtle with care. There’s a playfulness to this symbol. It invites each of us to care for the confused and slow turtle. When the turtle/church goes astray, which it is prone to do, use whatever power you have to lead it back home.
