You’ve probably seen the meme. Two old men in white, one looking stern and the other looking like he’s about to offer you a slice of pizza, sitting in a garden. That’s the vibe of The Two Popes, the 2019 Netflix hit that managed to make ecclesiastical law feel like a high-stakes buddy comedy. But honestly? The movie is a bit of a trick. It lures you in with Anthony Hopkins and Jonathan Pryce—who, let’s be real, are acting circles around everyone else—and then it sneaks in a heavy-duty debate about the future of the Catholic Church. It’s brilliant. It’s also, in many ways, total fiction.
If you’re looking for a play-by-play documentary, this isn't it. Screenwriter Anthony McCarten (the guy behind Bohemian Rhapsody and Darkest Hour) is a master of the "inspired by true events" genre, which is code for "I kept the names but imagined the dialogue." The film centers on a series of imagined meetings between Pope Benedict XVI and the man who would become Pope Francis, Cardinal Jorge Mario Bergoglio. In reality, there is no record of them meeting at Castel Gandolfo to argue about ABBA and tango. But that’s sort of beside the point.
The Massive Contrast Between Benedict and Francis
The heart of the movie is the friction between two worldviews. You have Benedict XVI, played by Hopkins with a sort of brittle, intellectual fragility. He represents the "old guard." To him, the Church is a fortress. If you change the rules to suit the times, you’re not leading; you’re following. He’s a scholar, a man of silence, a guy who reportedly enjoys a Fanta and plays Mozart on the piano.
Then you’ve got Bergoglio. Pryce plays him with this weary, boots-on-the-ground energy. He’s the guy who wants to sell the Vatican’s treasures to feed the poor. He likes football. He wants to talk about climate change and economic inequality. The movie frames their relationship as a bridge being built over a massive ideological canyon.
It’s easy to forget how radical the 2013 papal transition actually was. Popes don’t just "quit." It hadn't happened in nearly 600 years. When Gregory XII stepped down in 1415, it was to end a literal civil war within the Church. When Benedict did it, he cited "advanced age." It sent shockwaves through the world. The Two Popes tries to imagine the private agony and the quiet conversations that led to that moment. It treats the papacy not as a divine throne, but as a job that can break a man’s spirit.
Is it actually accurate?
Short answer: No. Long answer: It’s complicated.
Historians will tell you that the timeline is messy. The movie suggests Bergoglio went to Rome to resign as Archbishop of Buenos Aires and stumbled into a deep friendship with Benedict. In truth, Bergoglio did submit his resignation (as all bishops must at 75), but the dramatic back-and-forth at the summer palace is a narrative invention.
Also, the movie does a bit of a "good cop, bad cop" routine. It paints Benedict as the cold, out-of-touch academic and Francis as the warm, progressive savior. In reality, Pope Francis is still a theological conservative on many issues, and Benedict was more complex than just "God's Rottweiler." The film skips over some of the deeper controversies of both men’s careers to keep the "buddy" dynamic moving. For example, the "Vatileaks" scandal—where Benedict’s own butler leaked private documents—is mentioned, but the movie focuses more on the emotional toll it took on Benedict rather than the systemic failures of the Vatican bureaucracy.
Why We Are Still Obsessed With This Movie
There is something deeply satisfying about watching two people who fundamentally disagree actually listen to each other. That’s the "Discover" factor. In a world where everyone is shouting on social media, seeing a Nazi-era German intellectual and a Peronist-era Argentine priest share pizza is a form of wish fulfillment.
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The cinematography helps. Fernando Meirelles (the director of City of God) used a handheld camera style that makes the Vatican feel intimate, almost claustrophobic. You feel like a fly on the wall in the Sistine Chapel. When you see the shots of the smoke rising from the chimney—black for no, white for yes—it feels like a thriller.
The Elephant in the Room: The Scandal
We have to talk about how the movie handles the clergy abuse scandal. This is where many critics felt the film pulled its punches. There is a scene where Benedict "confesses" to Bergoglio, and the audio fades out. We don’t hear the specifics. It’s a stylistic choice that some found poetic and others found frustrating. By silencing the confession, the film avoids the gritty, horrifying details of the Church's failures, focusing instead on Benedict’s personal sense of "losing the thread" of God’s voice.
It’s a reminder that The Two Popes is a character study first and a political critique second. It wants you to care about the men inside the robes. Whether you think they deserve that empathy is up to you.
The Real-Life Legacy of the "Two Popes" Era
For years after the film's release, the world actually had two popes living in the Vatican. Benedict became "Pope Emeritus" and lived in a converted monastery just a short walk from Francis. This was unprecedented. It created a weird dynamic where conservative factions in the Church could look to Benedict as a sort of "shadow Pope" whenever they didn't like what Francis was doing.
When Benedict XVI passed away in late 2022, the "Two Popes" era officially ended. But the tensions highlighted in the movie? They’re still there. If anything, the divide between the traditionalist and progressive wings of the Church has only grown wider.
Key takeaways for your next watch:
- Look at the shoes. The movie makes a big deal about Benedict’s red shoes (symbolizing the blood of martyrs) versus Francis’s plain black ones. It’s a real detail that perfectly captures their different approaches to the office.
- The Tango Scene. Yes, Bergoglio actually loves tango. No, he probably didn't teach Benedict how to dance. But it serves as a metaphor for the "dance" of diplomacy.
- The Language. Notice how they switch between Latin, Italian, Spanish, and English. It shows the global, sometimes fractured nature of the institution they lead.
How to Dig Deeper into the History
If the movie piqued your interest in Vatican politics, don’t stop at Netflix. The film is based on Anthony McCarten's play The Pope, which is even more focused on the dialogue. For a more factual look at the transition, you might want to look into the work of Vatican analysts like John L. Allen Jr., who provides a much more balanced view of Benedict’s papacy than the movie does.
Also, if you want to understand the "Francis" side of the story, his own writings—like Evangelii Gaudium—explain his vision for a "poor Church for the poor" much better than any movie script could.
The film's real power isn't in its history. It's in the way it forces us to ask: Can you change an institution that is built on the idea of being unchanging? Benedict says no. Francis says you have to. That struggle didn't end when the credits rolled. It's still happening every day in Rome.
What you should do next:
- Watch the "behind the scenes" on the Sistine Chapel set. The production couldn't film in the real chapel, so they built a massive, full-scale replica at Cinecittà Studios. The detail is insane.
- Compare the "Urbi et Orbi" speeches. Look up the real footage of Benedict’s first appearance in 2005 and Francis’s in 2013 on YouTube. The difference in their body language is exactly what Hopkins and Pryce were trying to capture.
- Read about the "Bergoglio List." If you want to know more about Francis’s actual history during the Argentine "Dirty War"—a dark part of his past the movie touches on—search for Nello Scavo’s research into how he secretly saved people from the military junta.