Stream It Or Skip It: ‘The Two Popes’ on Netflix, a Surprisingly Entertaining Buddy Dramedy Starring Two Old White Guys

The Two Popes is Netflix’s next “prestige” movie, starring two aging Caucasian thespians as two aging Caucasian Popes: Anthony Hopkins as Pope Benedict XVI, and Jonathan Pryce as Pope Francis. Directed by Fernando Meirelles, the movie stirred up a little buzz with a brief theatrical run prior to its international streaming debut — although it’s not quite the Oscar-season heavy hitter that Netflix films The Irishman and Marriage Story are. My prediction? If it gets any awards-season love, it’ll be for its screenplay, which may be its strongest component.

THE TWO POPES: STREAM IT OR SKIP IT?

The Gist: NOTE FOR UPTIGHT TYPES: The Two Popes is clearly a piece of fiction “inspired by” a true story. Those two words between the quotation marks imply a blend of fact and fallacy, not that we really need that reminder when actors are given words to recite beneath fake lighting in front of artfully positioned cameras capturing footage that’s edited together for two things that never, ever, ever exist in real life, narrative clarity and consistency. So if you get your knickers in a knot over historical inaccuracy, maybe you should be watching documentaries, which do a lot of the aforementioned stuff, except it’s typically more subtle.

(Puts soapbox back in the closet.) (Quietly worries that he’s being condescending.)

Anyway, it’s worth noting that very little of what I’m about to summarize actually happened. So it goes. It’s 2005, and Pope John Paul II passes away. A new Pope must be elected. The cardinals gather at the Vatican, workers erect the chimney that’ll spew black or white smoke, crowds and news crews gather outside. Cardinal Bergoglio (Pryce) whistles ABBA’s Dancing Queen while washing his hands in the restroom, and Cardinal Ratzinger (Hopkins) asks him what hymn that is. Ell oh ell! Bergoglio, a progressive reformist from Argentina, has an outside shot at wearing the big funny hat, but Ratzinger, a conservative traditionalist from Germany, is the favorite, and soon becomes Pope Benedict XVI. Bergoglio is content to go back to Buenos Aires and live humbly, toiling for the betterment of the poor, while Benedict plods through his ivory tower in his expensive, red-leather Italian shoes.

Jump to 2012. Benedict has reasserted the Church’s conservative views on divorce, homosexuality and contraception, and handled the sexual-abuse scandal poorly — and subsequently watched the Catholic flock dwindle. Bergoglio, who gives Communion to divorcees, gay people and condom-users, no longer wants to be part of this. He books a flight to the Vatican to offer his retirement papers; coincidentally, he’s summoned to meet with Benedict for an undisclosed reason. They meet; they bicker about their differences; Benedict won’t sign the resignation; they eat dinner alone. Before bed, they convene for a chat, and it’s warmer in tone (the Pope likes to watch a TV show about a German Shepherd that solves crimes!), but when Bergoglio reaches out to embrace Benedict, he brushes Bergoglio’s arms away. THOU SHALT NOT HUG THE PONTIFF.

Why did Benedict summon Bergoglio again? Hold tight. The next day, they park their canes and bunions in the Sistine Chapel and open up some more. We see chunks of Bergoglio’s past in flashback. Benedict shares a secret (I won’t say what it is, but anyone who knows what happens re: his Papal status won’t be surprised). They share confession, prayer and a pizza. Yes, even Popes eat pizza. We all know Bergoglio eventually becomes Pope Francis, a fact the film does not alter. But will Bergoglio get his hug? No spoilers!

What Movies Will It Remind You Of?: Screenwriter Anthony McCarten is skilled at shorthanding biography: His script for Winston Churchill bloviation-fest Darkest Hour was lively (a film that also featured big names in front of and behind the camera; respectively, Gary Oldman and Joe Wright). The Theory of Everything was a thoughtful and complex telling of Stephen Hawking’s life story. And Freddie Mercury pic Bohemian Rhapsody was utter crapola.

Performance Worth Watching: Hopkins and Pryce truly are powerhouses: The former is terrific at playing a prickly ol’ crotch, and here, as usual, he finds the sweet spot between being showy and insightful. The latter is grossly underrated and known for his character roles, and as Bergoglio, he offers the complexity, depth and empathetic presence the film needs. (Religious cynics may delight to see Pryce playing a Pope after he so convincingly portrayed a loathsome faux-righteous spiritual leader on Game of Thrones.)

Memorable Dialogue: “I was making a joke. A German joke. It doesn’t have to be funny,” Benedict says. Note: He’s not a good teller of jokes.

Sex and Skin: Eww. None.

Our Take: Congratulations to Hopkins, Pryce, Meirelles and McCarten for defying the odds: They made an entertaining movie about two old white guys talking — and made us give a crap about what two old white guys have to say to each other. Grounding and humanizing Popes is no easy task; they’re infallible, you know, but they also like to drink beer and watch futbol like bros.

After an extraordinary run in the 2000s with City of God, The Constant Gardener and the overlooked Blindness, Meirelles’ career has been less splashy as he mostly stuck to producing and directing Brazilian television. The Two Popes is his highest-profile work in a decade, and reasserts him as a high-caliber director. Although the screenplay tends to be a hodgepodge of flashbacks and narrative leaps, Meirelles and his longtime cinematographer Cesar Charlone successfully render the story visually artful without being overly flashy. The camera zooms in close to its two principals, letting conundrums settle into the furrows and fissures on their foreheads; it indulges thoughtful compositions that subtly condemn Papal opulence and cobwebbed fundamentalism, aligning us with the man who soon will be known as “the cool Pope” and, my new pet name for him, “the refuser of fancy shoes.”

It’s funny how a quasi-buddy dramedy about a couple of Popes, even one that lightly brushes upon the burdens that people of such power bear, can be a distraction from our external world of divisive political turmoil. The film’s most substantial elements — the scenes of Bergoglio’s struggle during Argentina’s “dirty wars” of the 1970s — keep it from being the airy gabfest it kind of wants to be. The Two Popes is ultimately about hope and reform, in both a churchy and more general sense. It’s also swiftly paced, compulsively watchable and almost a little bit fun.

Our Call: STREAM IT. Keep your stupid expectations of boredom in your pocket. The Two Popes is essentially a flight of fancy, and far more enjoyable than expected.

John Serba is a freelance writer and film critic based in Grand Rapids, Michigan. Read more of his work at johnserbaatlarge.com or follow him on Twitter: @johnserba.

Stream The Two Popes on Netflix