Welcome to this month’s Cinema Snapshots! At the beginning of each month, I reflect on what I watched the prior month and provide a quick “snapshot” of my thoughts on those films. So without further ado, here are my Cinema Snapshots for April 2026.

Project Hail Mary

Science teacher Ryland Grace wakes up on a spaceship light years from home with no recollection of who he is or how he got there. As his memory returns, he begins to uncover his mission: solve the riddle of the mysterious substance causing the sun to die out. He must call on his scientific knowledge and unorthodox ideas to save everything on Earth from extinction… but an unexpected friendship means he may not have to do it alone.

A sneakily difficult and impressive adaptation. Weir’s novel is very interior, packed with science details, and constantly jumping timelines. I didn’t love it on the page, but I couldn’t imagine it on the screen.

And yet, Project Hail Mary is a joy-filled and heartfelt success of a film. Ryan Gosling is the perfect actor to carry chunks of a film by himself (Matt Damon was similarly successful with that task in Weir’s The Martian ten years ago). Writer Drew Goddard finds the emotion and thematic strengths of Weir’s novel and adapts it wonderfully, Lord and Miller’s direction brings a brisk, fun-filled energy to the entire film, and Fraser’s cinematography is stunning, especially the space scenes.

This approach does have its limits. Lord, Miller, and Gosling’s comedic leanings occasionally remove the gravitas from the more serious beats. The earth scenes (which have room to breathe in the novel) often feel like annoying interruptions to the space scenes. And the frequent montages, which are admittedly necessary for the runtime, take away from the importance of certain moments and discoveries.

It may not be perfect, but Project Hail Mary is the definition of a fun time at the movies, full of care, craft, and heart that other blockbusters would do well to imitate.

★★★★☆

Avatar: Fire and Ash

In the wake of the devastating war against the RDA and the loss of their eldest son, Jake Sully and Neytiri face a new threat on Pandora: the Ash People, a violent and power-hungry Na’vi tribe led by the ruthless Varang. Jake’s family must fight for their survival and the future of Pandora in a conflict that pushes them to their emotional and physical limits.

For better and for worse, I end up judging director James Cameron (Titanic, The Terminator) on a curve. On the one hand, he’s trained audiences to expect something new and wholly different each time they watch his films, and Fire and Ash feels disappointing distinctly because of its lack of newness. It’s “just” an Avatar sequel. On the other hand, Cameron is operating on such a high level of storytelling, camera control, use of light, and visual effects mastery that watching anything he releases is a spectacle unlike nearly any other.

Fire and Ash also surprised me with its overt biblical references and themes! Cameron has always inserted spirituality into his Avatar films, but typically in a pantheistic or ecospiritual form. But here, while still fitting within the fictional world of Pandora, he tackles themes of God’s silence, divine intervention, and even an overt recreation of the binding of Isaac.

I still think this is the weakest of the Avatar films. It lacks the narrative simplicity and unique world building of the original, as well as the world expansion and CGI upgrade of The Way of Water. But a weak film for Cameron is a masterpiece for nearly any other filmmaker, and the action, emotion, and spiritual depth on display here more than makes up for its flaws relative to the rest of the franchise.

★★★★☆

Ready or Not 2: Here I Come

Moments after surviving an all-out attack from the Le Domas family, Grace discovers she’s reached the next level of the nightmarish game — and this time with her estranged sister Faith at her side. Grace has one chance to survive, keep her sister alive, and claim the High Seat of the Council that controls the world. Four rival families are hunting her for the throne, and whoever wins rules it all.

Making a sequel to Ready or Not was always going to be a tricky task. The original film made the most of a simple but fascinating premise (a deadly game of hide and seek), with unique action, smart humor, and a strong lead performance from Samara Weaving. It’s a fairly self-contained film that felt open and shut by the time it ended.

The sequel, Ready or Not 2: Here I Come, was better than I expected! Sure, there’s less novelty this time around, but the filmmakers expand the lore and concepts from the first film and expand them to interesting degrees. And while it’s nothing deep, I love the Christian implications of having two characters named Faith and Grace fighting against the demonic.

As a whole I consider the film a slight downgrade from the first, but it remains an incredibly fun watch.

★★★☆☆

Hoppers

Scientists have discovered how to ‘hop’ human consciousness into lifelike robotic animals, allowing people to communicate with animals as animals. Animal lover Mabel seizes an opportunity to use the technology, uncovering mysteries within the animal world beyond anything she could have imagined.

Pixar has been going through a bit of a slump, and while Hoppers may not match the excellence of their 90s and 00s, it marks a move in the right direction for the famous animation company.

The film has some hilarious gags that had me laughing throughout, both via physical comedy and unexpected one liners. The setup was strong as well, establishing a caring environmentalist protagonist and introducing the unexpected technology that kicks the film into action. Unfortunately, along the way Hoppers just loses its edge and doesn’t quite stick the landing. It’s a pretty good film, but not quite the return to form for Pixar I had hoped.

★★★☆☆

Reminders of Him

When Diem’s custodial grandparents adamantly refuse Kenna’s attempts to see her daughter, Kenna discovers unexpected compassion, and then something truer and deeper, with former NFL player and local bar owner Ledger. As their secret romance develops, so do the dangers for both of them, leading Kenna toward heartbreak and, ultimately, the hope for a second chance.

Reminders of Him is wonderfully made from a technical standpoint. The direction, cinematography, coloring, and sound design are all top notch, much better than what you typically get from this genre.

That sad, I just didn’t connect with the story. The melodrama was played up too much (I suspect this being Colleen Hoover’s first screenplay credit may not have helped), and the score and songs forecasted emotions that were already too explicit in the writing and performances. It’s ultimately a good-looking (and not horrible) film to watch, but one that exhausted me by the end with its hyper-emotional tone.

★★☆☆☆

From the Archives

The following was first published on Film Fisher.

The fear of God isn’t exactly a popular talking point these days. To a degree it’s understandable. Our world feels increasingly hostile by the day, so naturally people want a God who is exclusively loving, gentle, and kind. As Jackie DeShannon famously sang, “What the world needs now is love, sweet love.”

Even within the church, divine wrath has proven controversial. Stuart Townend’s contemporary hymn “In Christ Alone” includes the lyrics, “on that cross as Jesus died / the wrath of God was satisfied,” but the Presbyterian church (among others) sought to change the phrase to “on that cross as Jesus died / the love of God was magnified.” It seems we’ve reached a point where we are deeply uncomfortable with a God who is anything other than “safe.”

It was with all of this rattling around in my brain that I sat down to watch Death of a Unicorn last spring. While it didn’t quite make my “best of” list for 2025, it has dominated my thoughts in the months since. It is a disarmingly earnest film that explores the intersection of the divine and the mundane, forcing us to reckon with the fear of God in its truest sense, and the transformative power of encountering something beyond our comprehension.

A Movie True to Unicorns

Following his wife’s death to cancer, Elliot (Paul Rudd) and his daughter Ridley (Jenna Ortega) are en route to a weekend retreat at his billionaire boss Odell Leopold’s house when the impossible happens: they hit a unicorn with their car.

Scared and unsure what to do, they toss the unicorn in their car and continue to the retreat. But once they arrive, they notice unexplainable phenomena. Ridley’s acne suddenly vanishes. Elliot doesn’t need his glasses anymore. Odell’s cancer goes into remission. Much like the woman who touched Jesus’ garment (Mark 5:27-29), it seems that anyone who touches the unicorn experiences healing.

As the rich Leopold family quickly works to desecrate and monetize this supernatural being, they realize this unicorn was just the child ... and its two parents are coming for judgment. What ensues is a hilarious (and occasionally gruesome) survival film in which Elliot, Ridley, and the Leopolds attempt to escape the wrath of the unicorns. But make no mistake, this film is much more than what’s on the surface.

“It was really important to me that we didn’t do a cynical movie. That is, a monster movie where the monster happens to be a unicorn,” writer and director Alex Scharfman told Polygon. “It was really important to me that the movie felt true to unicorns, both in terms of their lore, but also in terms of the emotional valence that they carry…the sense of their symbolism. In a way that speaks to what they are, but also…why they’ve resonated with humans over two millennia.”

Animals and the Divine

When researching the mysterious being that they hit, Ridley mentions to the group that a common interpretation of the unicorn is as “a metaphor for Christ and man’s inherent corruption.” Unicorns are pure and offer healing, but man is always seeking to control (or even kill) these supernatural creatures.

Of course, Death of a Unicorn is far from the first portrayal of Christ and the supernatural in animal form. C.S. Lewis’s popular novel, The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe, portrays the Godhead as a lion, Aslan. And similarly to the unicorns, the use of a lion in the novels is meant to invoke a certain level of fear:

“Is he--quite safe?,” asked Susan. “I shall feel rather nervous about meeting a lion.”

“That you will, dearie, and no mistake,” said Mrs Beaver. “If there’s anyone who can appear before Aslan without their knees knocking, they’re either braver than most or else just silly.”

“Then he isn’t safe?” said Lucy.

“Safe?” said Mr Beaver; “don’t you hear what Mrs Beaver tells you? Who said anything about safe? ‘Course he isn’t safe. But he’s good. He’s the King, I tell you.”

Fear is a natural response to God’s power and greatness. Just ask the apostles who were “filled with great fear” after Jesus commanded the storm to be still (Mark 4:41). As pastor J.D. Greear puts it, “Many people today assume that “the fear of God” is some kind of leftover relic from some oppressive, archaic view of religion. But any time you are in the presence of greatness you feel a sense of fear.”

Fear is a righteous and worthy response to the greatness of God, and within the context of the film, the unicorns demand this same level of fear. But as we see with the wealthy Leopold family, a lack of proper fear can lead to ruin...

Eat the Rich

It’s easy to dismiss the Death of a Unicorn as yet another “eat the rich” allegory. After all, it does portray the deserved downfall of Odell and his family – hilariously out of touch with common people and focused only on getting richer. But beneath this trope is a glimpse at how the powers that be seek to harness anything they deem profitable, including the spiritual.

Once Odell realizes the supernatural value of the dead unicorn, his mind immediately turns to monetizing it, and he demands that his in-house doctors and scientists work on replicating the unicorn’s healing properties.

“If you gave us all the time and all the resources in the world, we couldn’t reproduce this,” Dr. Song explains. “Sometimes science can only be humbled in the face of nature.”

Odell is having none of it, spouting back pridefully, “All you can speak of is man’s limitations. Man has no limitations.”

The film highlights the arrogance of those who believe they can control or exploit the divine, and it’s these nuances that allow it to rise above common tropes. Yes, we take immense pleasure as an audience in seeing the Leopold family humbled and destroyed. But it’s not merely because of their riches. The film shows us that their lack of respect and fear for the supernatural is ultimately their undoing. To see what that respect and fear should look like, we turn to Elliot and Ridley.

A Healed Family

Just as the film smartly elevates “eat the rich” tropes, it uses the workings of a cliched parent-child reconciliation story to reveal further spiritual depth. Countless stories have shown a broken family following the loss of a loved one that finds a way to heal. And while that is certainly present here, the key difference lies again in the supernatural.

Death of a Unicorn is the story of how an encounter with the divine not only changes an individual on a personal level, but changes our relationships with one another. The unicorn’s power (and frankly its mere presence) help Elliot and Ridley come to terms with his wife’s and her mother’s passing, their own mortality, and the things that hold true importance in this life.

When Ridley touches the unicorn, she sees a glimpse into the cosmos, and it reframes her perspective on everything. “They were showing me where [we come from] and where we’ve already been heading back to,” she tells her dad. “Where a part of Mom was already waiting. In a place where we don’t have to worry about what we didn’t figure out while we were here.”

Witnesses of Majesty

In one final symbolic representation of Christ, the film ends with the baby unicorn being resurrected by its parents. And after a film full of foreboding music and chilling camera angles accompanying these creatures, the filmmaking no longer evokes horror. The score is majestic as the sun shines on this reunited triune family, with Elliot and Ridley looking on in wonder. It’s an oddly affecting ending for what is a largely silly film, but the sincerity with which the filmmakers treat the emotional beats makes for a genuinely moving moment.

Death of a Unicorn shows the unicorn as a creature of both judgment and healing. It suggests that those who approach the sacred with arrogance and control will face consequences. And those that approach the divine with humility will be met with salvation. By exploring the unicorn’s symbolism through a spiritual lens, the film invites us to reflect on our own relationship with the unseen.

And as the credits roll, we are left with the realization that the fear of God is not a relic of the past, but the beginning of a wisdom that recognizes we are not the masters of God, but witnesses to His majesty.

Welcome to this month’s Cinema Snapshots! At the beginning of each month, I reflect on what I watched the prior month and provide a quick “snapshot” of my thoughts on those films. So without further ado, here are my Cinema Snapshots for March 2026.

In the Blink of an Eye

Three storylines, spanning thousands of years, intersect and reflect on hope, connection, and the circle of life.

In the Blink of an Eye is messy, uneven, and doesn’t totally work. Yet I found myself engaged the entire time. Its experimental pace and disarmingly optimistic attitude about humanity are sure to throw viewers off, but those are the qualities I found particularly engaging. Andrew Stanton (Finding Nemo, WALL•E) provides striking visual direction even in live action, and Thomas Newman’s score beautifully connects the film’s separate timelines.

Watch this as a companion piece to Zemeckis’ Here (another weird film about time and humanity I really enjoyed).

★★★☆☆ | Watch now on Hulu and Disney+

How to Make a Killing

Disowned at birth by his obscenely wealthy family, blue-collar Becket Redfellow will stop at nothing to reclaim his inheritance, no matter how many relatives stand in his way.

I love the genre of film where Ed Harris shows up at the end for 5 minutes and owns the scene (Snowpiercer is another quick example that comes to mind).

How to Make a Killing is an effortlessly entertaining film. The ensemble makes the most of limited screen time, and Glen Powell was perfectly cast in the leading role. I already mentioned Ed Harris, but Topher Grace and Zach Woods also steal the show in their brief scenes. The story sticks to the expected beats, but the strength of the performances combined with steady camerawork and editing make this a must-watch.

★★★★☆

Send Help

Two colleagues become stranded on a deserted island, the only survivors of a plane crash. On the island, they must overcome past grievances and work together to survive, but ultimately, it’s a battle of wills and wits to make it out alive.

Send Help contains all the style and confidence you’d expect from veteran director Sam Raimi, with two delightfully exaggerated performances from Rachel McAdams and Dylan O’Brien. The first two acts are stronger than the gory and campy finale (though camp and gore is to be expected with most Raimi films), and the themes at play are more successful in films such as Triangle of Sadness than they are here. But the film is a fun, wild ride nonetheless.

★★★☆☆

Nirvanna the Band the Show the Movie

When their plan to book a show at the Rivoli goes horribly wrong, Matt and Jay accidentally travel back to the year 2008.

I’ve never seen Nirvanna the Band the Show (a Canadian mockumentary-sitcom television series), but after hearing incredible things about this new feature film based on the show, I had to check it out.

I loved it! Nirvanna the Band the Show the Movie (yes, that’s the title) is a well shot, hilarious, and surprisingly heartwarming take on time travel. I was in a constant state of disbelief thinking of the logistics of making this film—frequently shot in public with unknowing bystanders—all while crafting a coherent and moving story built from those improvised and unexpected encounters.

Even if you’ve never seen the show (like me), go in with an open mind and enjoy this wacky, delightful mockumentary adventure.

★★★★☆

Forbidden Fruits

Free Eden employee Apple secretly runs a witchy femme cult in the basement of the mall store after hours – with fellow fruits Cherry and Fig. But, when new hire Pumpkin challenges their performative sisterhood, the women are forced to face their own poisons or succumb to a bloody fate.

Mean Girls meets Paradise Lost (not a sentence I expected to type). Forbidden Fruits thrives on its over-the-top fun performances, biblical imagery and references galore, and unique approach to tried and true story tropes. You’ll either love the tone or hate it, but it worked for me, even if some of the third act twists and turns were a bit too pulpy for my taste.

Speaking of biblical references, I loved Lili Reinhart’s shirt in the finale, an allusion to the stage play the film is based on, as well as Ecclesiasticus‬ ‭25‬:‭24‬: “Of the woman came the beginning of sin, and through her we all die.”

★★★☆☆

Scream 7

When a new Ghostface killer emerges in the quiet town where Sidney Prescott has built a new life, her darkest fears are realized as her daughter becomes the next target. Determined to protect her family, Sidney must face the horrors of her past to put an end to the bloodshed once and for all.

Scream 7 had a troubled production history to say the least, but even taken on its own, the film is the weakest in the franchise. It returns the series’ focus to Sydney Prescott (Neve Campbell), now with a teenage daughter of her own, as they seek to unmask the latest Ghostface killer.

The Scream franchise has the difficult ongoing task of needing to come up with new and innovative ways to advance the slasher genre, all while playfully embracing its tropes. But now, seven films and fourteen Ghostface killers in, Scream 7 seems out of fresh ideas. Everything is recycled here from past Scream films or other horror thrillers, without any hint of self-awareness or progression. The action scenes are muddily shot, the Ghostface reveal feels shrug-worthy, and the performances even feel tired, as if the actors themselves aren’t quite sure why they’re still doing this.

Diehard fans may still find things to love here, but as a general audience member, very little actually works in Scream 7.

★★☆☆☆

From the Archives

Happy Holy Week! Enjoy these past blogs I’ve written about various Easter and Passover films…

Happy Holy Week!

It’s a common tradition for many to spend the month of December watching Christmas movies to prepare for the holidays. But my favorite movie-watching season is in the weeks leading up to Easter. My writing here often focuses on the intersection of faith and film, so it only made sense I recommend some biblical films to watch for Easter.

Readers familiar with biblical films are likely aware of the classics. Mel Gibson’s The Passion of the Christ (2004), while intense, is a signature film to watch at Easter, perhaps the best depiction to date of Jesus’ crucifixion. King of Kings (1961) is a more traditional biblical epic, telling the full story of Jesus’ life, death, and resurrection. Lesser known—though popular among cinephiles—is The Gospel According to St. Matthew (1964), directed by Pier Paolo Pasolini. It’s a uniquely affecting watch, employing a cast of mostly amateur actors, filmed entirely in Southern Italy, and with all of its dialogue taken directly from the Gospel of Matthew.

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Passover films are also popular this time of year, and two in particular are staples of mine each spring. The Ten Commandments (1956) stars Charlton Heston as Moses, clocking in at a whopping 220 minutes and filled with romance, excitement, and spectacle. The parting of the Red Sea is a visual effects marvel in a pre-CGI era. A personal favorite of mine is The Prince of Egypt (1998), DreamWorks Animation’s retelling of the Exodus story. I’ve written about the film in the past, analyzing how the animation and music beautifully capture the grandeur, emotion, and spiritual gravity of the events portrayed.

But for viewers looking for more obscure, unique, or even difficult movies to meditate on this time of year, I’ve compiled a list of five underrated films to watch for Easter. These selections aren’t always as clean-cut as many traditional Bible retellings. But, much like the mission of this outlet, these films are valuable because of their “cloudiness.” We don’t know everything, but part of the journey is seeking to find the meaning amidst the clouds.

The Book of Clarence (2023)

Streetwise but down-on-his-luck, Clarence is struggling to find a better life for his family, while fighting to free himself of debt. Captivated by the power and glory of the rising Messiah and His apostles, he risks everything to carve his own path to a divine life, and ultimately discovers that the redemptive power of belief may be his only way out.

While an admittedly unconventional take on the gospel story, The Book of Clarence offers a profound meditation on knowledge and faith. Writer and director Jeymes Samuel emphasizes the innate human longing for identity and understanding, centering the film on Clarence, twin of “doubting Thomas” the apostle. And yes, for those who are wondering, the Bible does say that Thomas was a twin.

Clarence mirrors his biblical brother’s skeptical traits but goes a step further by rejecting faith entirely, preferring instead to seek knowledge and “enlightenment.” But as his attention-seeking schemes get him in more and more trouble, he’s confronted with the truth he’s been running from: perhaps real enlightenment can only be found in Christ.

The film’s style is strange to say the least, inspired by everything from biblical epics to Spike Lee to Quentin Tarantino. But beneath that chaotic style is a hilarious story and touching spiritual message, making it one of my favorite faith films of all time.

Read my extended thoughts here:

You can watch The Book of Clarence on Hulu.

The Miracle Maker (1999) | Films to Watch for Easter

‘The Miracle Maker’ tells the story of the life of Jesus, voiced by Ralph Fiennes, from the perspective of secondary characters such as his disciples, the high priests and in particular Tamar, the daughter of Jairus, previously unnamed in the Bible.

This under-seen gem was a staple for me as a kid and I still return to it each year. The stop motion animation offers the ancient biblical setting a tangible feeling, beautifully contrasted by the flowing, hand-drawn animation used for parables. And that’s to say nothing of the all-star voice cast: Ralph Fiennes, Alfred Molina, Richard E. Grant, Ian Holm, and Emily Mortimer to name a few.

But beyond its merit as simply a great movie, The Miracle Maker showcases perhaps the best cinematic example of Jesus’s dual identity as fully God and fully man. We see this Jesus laugh, cry, suffer, and love, all while retaining a mystic and miraculous presence. It’s incredibly well written and tenderly performed, and I was thrilled it landed on the Arts & Faith Top 100 list last year (#32).

You can watch The Miracle Maker free on YouTube and Tubi, or stream on Prime Video.

The Last Temptation of Christ (1988)

Jesus is drawn into revolutionary action against the Roman occupiers by Judas – despite his protestations that love, not violence, is the path to salvation. The burden of being the savior of mankind torments Jesus throughout his life, leading him to doubt.

No one should go into The Last Temptation of Christ (or frankly any film) expecting scriptural authority. In fact, I’ve always appreciated that this film opens with a blunt disclaimer: “This film is not based on the Gospels, but upon the fictional exploration of the eternal spiritual conflict.”

While I’d argue that Silence is Martin Scorsese’s best film on faith, The Last Temptation of Christ is the film I consistently revisit each Easter. Just as the opening text states, Last Temptation is all about the spiritual conflict of being tempted, showing both the internal and external battle between the human and the divine, part of the burden of Christ’s messianic role.

How is it even possible for someone to equally inhabit both man and God? It’s hard for the human mind to comprehend, and that struggle is the focus of Scorsese’s challenging work. The film isn’t biblically accurate (though it sticks truer to scripture than some give it credit for), but viewers get perhaps the best chance to put themselves in Christ’s shoes and see the difficulties of living a sinless, blameless life in human form.

Read my extended thoughts here:

The Last Temptation of Christ is not currently streaming, but can be digitally rented, purchased, or bought physically from the Criterion Collection.

Barabbas (1961) | Films to Watch for Easter

Epic account of the thief Barabbas, who was pardoned for his crimes and spared crucifixion when Pilate offered the Israelites a choice to pardon Barabbas or Jesus. Struggling with his spirituality, Barabbas goes through many ordeals leading him to the gladiatorial arena, where he tries to win his freedom and confront his inner demons, ultimately becoming a follower of the man who was crucified in his place.

Barabbas was a first-time watch for me this year, and it’s a fascinating film. It contains the extravagant scale and lavish production design often associated with biblical epics, but the focus is far more interior. Every huge set, every swell of the music, and each of the hundreds of extras is used to further Barabbas’s arc, from Christ’s crucifixion scene to the gladiator fights to the burning of Rome.

Speaking of the crucifixion, here’s a fun fact: to portray the Earth going dark during Jesus’ death, the cast and crew filmed the crucifixion scene during a real solar eclipse. The film lingers on a single eclipse shot for a full 45 seconds, forcing you to take in the supernatural wonder as the view of the cross slowly darkens.

And that’s to say nothing of the film’s spiritual depth! Despite his best attempts to run from faith, Barabbas can’t seem to escape the pull he feels towards Christ, a mixture of shame, guilt, and genuine intrigue at the figure who took his place and died. One of my favorite interactions is between Barabbas and the apostle Peter.

Barabbas: I was the opposite of everything he taught, wasn’t I? Why did He let Himself be killed instead of me?

Peter: Because being farthest from Him, you were the nearest.

Barabbas: I’m no nearer than I was before.

Peter: Nor any farther away. The truth of the matter is, He’s never moved from your side. I can tell you this: there has been a wrestling in your spirit back and forth in your life which, in itself, is knowledge of God. By the conflict you have known Him.

You can watch Barabbas free on Tubi.

La Vie du Christ (1906)

The stations of Christ’s life are segmented into a series of performative tableaux.

For casual moviegoers, La Vie du Christ (The Birth, the Life and the Death of Christ) may not be as “fun” or “easy” a watch compared to other films on this list. But at 120 years old, this film is significant for a multitude of reasons. While early cinema history has a lot of gaps, La Vie du Christ is one of the earliest movies about Christ ever made, and almost certainly the first major biblical film directed by a woman.

At only 33 minutes, Alice Guy-Blaché’s film is a quick watch, but it hits on all the major moments in Jesus’ life, with the scenes shot almost as living portraits (you can see why the medium of film was described early on as “motion picture”). The camera barely moves in any given scene, turning each viewer into a biblical witness as each event unfolds, from Jesus’ birth, ministry, trial, death, and resurrection. I’m honestly still not quite sure how the resurrection scene was shot, a breathtaking sequence in which Jesus levitates above the grave before disappearing.

I watched this film in preparation for voting on the upcoming Arts & Faith Women-Directed Films list. You can check out the other nominees below:

You can watch La Vie du Christ free on YouTube.

What are your favorite films to watch for Easter? Comment below and let me know what I may have left out!

From his early work on Star Trek: The Next Generation to collaborations with James Cameron (Dark Angel), Steven Spielberg (Terra Nova), and Guillermo del Toro (Carnival Row), René Echevarria has spent decades establishing himself as a versatile showrunner and show creator alongside some of Hollywood’s most imaginative minds. But his latest project, The Faithful: Women of the Bible is the answer to a personal prayer offered years ago: “If it please you, Lord, use me.”

Premiering on FOX this spring as a three-week event starting Sunday, March 22, the series tells the story of the Biblical Matriarchs: Sarah (Minnie Driver) and her servant Hagar (Natacha Karam), Sarah’s great-niece Rebekah (Alexa Davalos), and Rebekah’s nieces, sisters Leah (Millie Brady) and Rachel (Blu Hunt). Filmed on location in Rome and Matera, Italy, The Faithful explores the ways in which these women’s lives were marked by quests for independence, deep-seeded desires, and the search for something greater than themselves.

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Echevarria and I recently sat down to discuss the origins of the series and the challenges of filling in the blanks of the biblical text. During our conversation, which has been edited for length and clarity, we discussed his desire for a “God-affirming” project, the creative liberating force of focusing on female perspectives, and the lessons he carried from his time working alongside Steven Spielberg.

I want to start out by getting an idea of how this series originated. Why did you want to tell this story, and why now?

Some years ago, after having been blessed with a long career in this business, I decided that my next project would be something God-affirming, something I could share with my church and my kids. Not everything I’ve done could be shown at church, let’s just say. I put it out there: “If it please you, Lord, use me.” It took a while, but then a writer-producer that I really admire, Carol Mendelsohn, reached out to me years later. She said she wanted to do a project about the women of the Bible. She’d heard I was a believer, and so we partnered up to do it.

Let’s talk a little bit more about this focus on the women of the Bible. Genesis, more often than not, ends up following the male narrative rather than the women. Because of that, you were able to use this series to fill in the blanks, adding events and motivations for these women. How did you and the team go about fleshing out their characters in a way that felt true to their biblical portrayal, even when it might not necessarily be explicit in the Bible?

That’s a great question. It was a very liberating perspective. For example, we didn’t feel the need to tell every beat of the Abraham story in Genesis. There were parts of it that didn’t involve Sarah so much. Abraham gathers an army at one point and rescues his nephew Lot; it liberated us from some of the expected beats that we didn’t need to do. Our true north was always trying to find the emotional truth of what these brave, courageous, bold women experienced. They were also flawed and, like all of us, broken. They stumble and make mistakes. It was a matter of really digging in.

It is possible to read Genesis—especially Abraham and Sarah’s story—and come away thinking, “Oh, Sarah is kind of the bad guy here.” As I pondered that, I noticed she recruits or coerces Hagar to have a child for her and then banishes her later. Those are hard to get your head around. But even though this is true, the Lord validated her choices on a certain level. When Hagar runs away, God tells her to go back. He doesn’t say, “Go girl, you get to Egypt! Be free with your son.” He says, “Go back.” God had something in mind for that child. I think He wanted him to be raised by his father, even if only for the first 13, 14, 15 years of his life. Again, when Sarah convinces Abraham to banish Hagar, he doesn’t like it. He doesn’t want to do it. But God tells him to listen to the voice of his wife.

So when I realized that, I thought, “I’m missing something; I need to dig in.” That’s when I realized she loved that boy, she loved Ishmael. It must have cost her. She didn’t do it because she finally had her own biological child; she did it because she intuited that the situation wasn’t going to work and that Ishmael needed to go find his own destiny. That’s where we ended up. I don’t know if you’ve had a chance to watch it yet?

Yes, I have!

Oh, okay good.

And I loved that aspect. I thought that was a really good perspective on things because you’re right, we do see Sarah—at one point she refers to God as her “husband’s God”—she almost offloads it on Abraham at first.

Exactly.

It was interesting how you played into the doubt; she laughs at God’s plans when she hears she’s going to have a son. I want to go back to what you said about showing that these are flawed and vulnerable people. A lot of people define faithfulness as unwavering perfection, but the show really highlights the doubts and flaws of our main characters. How would you define faithfulness in the context of a show called The Faithful?

Wow that’s a good question. All three of these stories that we tell—the first one is about Sarah, Hagar, and Abraham, the second one is about Rebecca and Isaac, and third is about Leah, Rachel, and Jacob—they all mess up. They are just finding their way. The last thing Carol said to me before I went off to write the first script was: “René, write them like they don’t know they’re Bible characters. Like they don’t know they’re in the Bible.” That was really good advice and I shared that with the other writers that we ended up hiring and even with the actors.

Part of what I learned along the way is that yes, they stumbled and made a mess of things at times, but God always made good. God blessed Ishmael, even though Ishmael came into being because Sarah had taken matters into her own hands and lost faith in the promise. Rebecca felt God called her to make sure Jacob, the younger, was chosen over Esau, the older. That was not how things were done at the time, and it put her on a collision course with her husband. So it’s another story about a marriage; very relatable I hope. And the third story—Leah and Rachel—sisters falling in love with the same man. That’s a very different kind of marriage and has its own complications, yet if it hadn’t been for that, there wouldn’t have been 12 sons, the 12 tribes of Israel.

God makes a good work, as Romans says, for all those who are called to Him. That is the big takeaway that I came to. We often share that verse during trials, but those words can ring hollow when you yourself are the one in a trial. These stories are reassuring of that truth Paul speaks of in Romans.

Do you have a favorite episode that viewers can look forward to? Do you have a favorite child? [laughter]

There are pieces of each one that I really love. The third one is a lot of fun in a scandalous but heartfelt way. The first one is probably the most jam-packed. There was so much story there, and sometimes it was a challenge to fit it into a two-hour allotment. There are things about the second episode that I really love; it’s a very romantic story for Rebecca and Isaac. She leaves her home and marries a boy sight unseen. That really intrigued me. Why did she do that? And then she becomes a fierce advocate for his God, even though she wasn’t raised in that tradition. She came alongside Isaac very powerfully to sustain this covenant. The way that all played out is one of my favorite parts. It was there where we most had to read between the lines to find something that felt true.

I’ll give you a little hint, you’ll have noticed in the first episode we don’t actually depict the binding of Isaac. We decided to do it in the second episode and play it as something Rebecca helps him process. She marries a man who went through something very traumatic. We know what it meant to Abraham, but imagine being the object of that test. I really liked how that turned out.

I had noticed the binding of Isaac was missing from the first episode and figured you couldn’t fit everything in. But no, you saved that for the future.

Yeah, yeah.

You also mentioned the first episode is jam-packed, covering Sarah from a young age all the way through her death. What were the challenges in telling a complete, cohesive story when you’re covering someone’s entire life?

That is a challenge, and I don’t think I’ve ever done that before. These stories take place over decades, which had repercussions in casting. We have young Jacob and young Esau, and then we see Jacob’s boys growing up. It was a casting challenge to track. You have to choose your hero actor playing the character for the majority of the time and then backfill. That was an interesting challenge.

So how did you tell that life story in just an hour of television?

In the one you saw about Sarah, you hear Hagar’s voiceover throughout. We didn’t originally write it like that; we added that spine in the editing room. It used to start with young Abraham and Sarah, but then we realized the story really is really about Hagar and Sarah. So that moment when they first see each other on the banks of the Nile, we realized that could be used to frame things. That voiceover helped the audience know when and where we were. We used titles to tell you where we were, show how many years had passed and used the kids growing up as easy visual clues.

That voiceover really does tie it all together. Looking back at your career, you’ve worked with filmmakers like James Cameron, Steven Spielberg, and Guillermo del Toro. What’s the best lesson or filmmaking advice you’ve heard from one of them or anyone else you’ve worked with?

One thing that stayed with me was hearing Steven Spielberg talk about casting. What he responds to is a sense that the actor is listening to the other actor. That they hadn’t come in and decided what they were going to do and exactly how they are going to play it. Actors should trust that they know the words, and in the moment they need to listen and react to what the other actors are doing. He would see people and say, “No, she wasn’t listening; no he wasn’t listening,” and move on. He has great instincts about these things.

It’s a small thing, but I can see it making a huge difference. Last question: What do you hope Christian audiences will take away from this series? And if non-Christian audiences happen upon it, what do you hope they take away?

The way you framed that question makes it easier to answer. Because Carol and I were always aware that we had two audiences. There is the faith audience who knows these stories—there’s no suspense other than “how are they going to handle these challenging passages in scripture?” Then also there is the audience tuning in because they like period dramas or Minnie Driver or whatever it might be. We always were careful to speak to both.

I’ve heard from folks who watched it with their husbands and then got out their Bibles to talk about the choices we made. They were engaging with our slightly different perspective. More than that, it’s my hope that people for whom these stories are dim memories from Sunday school long ago will go to their shelf, pull off a dusty Bible their grandma left them, and crack it open. God can do His thing in their hearts. That is my hope.

It’s incredible what you’ve accomplished. I love your witness and your role in telling these stories. I really appreciate your time today.

It was fun talking about it. I appreciate you having me.

The following was first published on Film Fisher.

How loosely are you willing to let Biblical figures be interpreted in film?

Do they have to speak verbatim from scriptures, or can their dialogue be modernized? Should the characters resemble their whitewashed appearance in classical paintings, or be more accurate to their cultural background? Can events depicted in such films be extrabiblical if they still resemble what we’d imagine these figures to do?

We all make concessions when watching films about our faith, because scripture is scripture, and movies are not. Dallas Jenkins, creator and director of The Chosen, infamously stated last year “I believe it is important to watch The Chosen as though the Bible didn’t exist.” While this was poorly worded quote that could lead to dangerous interpretations, it speaks to a core truth: Christians must be careful never to let a film or television show be the basis for – or even an undue influence on – their faith.

It’s with this tension in mind that I recently viewed Lotfy Nathan’s new supernatural thriller, The Carpenter’s Son. The film has proven controversial to say the least, so in an effort to better understand what it’s trying to say, my review structure here serves as a (perhaps unusual) blend of theological musings and traditional film analysis. I’ve recently been studying the book of Mark and theologian N.T. Wright’s commentary on that gospel, and as such this has been a fascinating chance to see where the gospels and The Carpenter’s Son are in alignment and where they are at odds with one another.

The Carpenter’s Son is not based on the Bible, but it does feature the characters of Jesus, Joseph, and Mary as it adapts events from the apocryphal and historically controversial Infancy Gospel of Thomas, a text the early church deemed inauthentic and heretical.

In the film, Joseph (Nicolas Cage), Mary (FKA twigs) and their teenage son Jesus (Noah Jupe) have lived for years in Egypt, clinging to their faith and traditions. But a stopover in a small settlement unleashes growing chaos when a mysterious stranger (Isla Johnston) tries to entice young Jesus to abandon his devout father’s rules. With every pull of temptation, the boy is lured into a forbidden world, as a terrified Joseph realizes that a demonic power is at work. Violent, unnatural events inexplicably follow Jesus, and he begins to experience nightmarish visions of the future. Finally, he learns the fearsome truth about his new playmate, as well as the child’s real name: Satan.

Jesus, Temptation, and the Problem of Source

The most immediate source of discomfort for a Christian viewer lies in the film’s depiction of Jesus himself. This is, admittedly, a fault carried over from the heretical Infancy Gospel of Thomas, but regardless of the source, Jesus’ characterization is problematic at best, and blasphemous at worst.

The film portrays teenage Jesus as rebellious, flawed, and profoundly unsure of his own identity and divine nature as he questions who his real father was. Noah Jupe, for his part, delivers an admirable performance, bringing a contemplative maturity yet doubting adolescence to the role.

The film finds firmer thematic footing in its exploration of temptation. Satan’s temptations here are less about earthly power and more about the desire to relieve suffering, an interpretation that at least feels consistent with the spiritual battle Christ would eventually face in the wilderness and in the garden.

The temptations feel effective because this film’s world, more than many shown in Biblical adaptations, is truly a world in need of saving. Death, pain, suffering, and fear are ever-present. The costumes, makeup, and production design all contribute to that feeling, with a grimy, dirty and naturalistic look establishing a fallen Earth. The film’s naturalistic lighting also serves that purpose during daytime scenes, though it creates an overly dark and flat look at night that is far less effective. Satan’s temptations feel appropriately alluring in the film because the world here looks and feels hopeless, a true testament to the entire crew’s work.

The difference though in Jesus’ depiction and battle with temptation in this film is one of identity. Controversial films like The Last Temptation of Christ – which I’ve adamantly defended – still depict Jesus as aware of and confident in His identity as God’s son, but facing temptations about the burden of responsibility on his shoulders (a characterization aligned with Luke 22:42).

But in The Carpenter’s Son, Jesus is unsure of who He is and is acting out as a result, a take I have trouble reconciling with scripture (though, again, in all fairness, this film is based on a non-scripture text). It’s simply a core issue of the character’s depiction, to the point where I wouldn’t fault Christian viewers for being unwilling to watch.

Joseph, Doubt, and Divine Revelation

As much as I take issue with the film’s depiction of Jesus, the true emotional core of The Carpenter’s Son lies not with Jesus, but with Joseph, carefully written and magnificently portrayed by Nicolas Cage. Joseph’s arc in the film has lingered with me long after watching, a representation of the Biblical stubbornness of the Jewish people and the new hope that God sent through Christ.

At the start of the film, Joseph sees God’s light shine on him during the birth of Jesus, but years later he feels as if God is absent during their time in Egypt. “My faith has become a broken crutch,” he cries to the heavens. “I beg You, how much longer must I wait to see Your light again?” Try as he might, he struggles to hear God’s voice and battles doubts about whether Jesus is truly God’s son.

Though still not biblically rooted, it’s much easier to align this portrayal of Joseph with his biblical counterpart, whether it’s Joseph’s pre-birth doubts in Matthew 1:19 or Mark 3:21’s mention of how Jesus’s family “thought he was crazy and went to get him under control.”

But even on a metatextual level, Joseph functions in the film as a powerful metaphor for the Pharisees and the Jewish people of the era, clinging to ritual in the face of a God they no longer perceive. Joseph is so stuck in the Jewish traditions and laws that he fails to see the new thing God is doing through Jesus.

“What Jesus is doing can’t be fitted in to the existing ways of thinking and living that his fellow first-century Galileans already had. Jesus was challenging, by his whole kingdom-movement, the very basis on which the Pharisees had built up their edifice.”
- Mark for Everyone, Tom Wright

His frustration with Jesus’s lack of adherence to the Law leads to the film’s best scene, a fight with Mary about Jesus’s true identity. When Mary asks if he has doubts about her immaculate conception, Joseph confesses, “Of course I have doubts, my faith is shattered.”

Joseph is still bound by legalistic fear and fundamentalism. His prayers are delivered in a monotonous chant, practiced rather than heartfelt. When he punishes Jesus by making him list the things one cannot do on the Sabbath, there are clear parallels to the many conflicts between the Pharisees and Jesus over the Law, specifically the Sabbath (Mark 2:23-28, Mark 7:1-13).

THE MOTHER
He is innocent.

THE CARPENTER
How do you know He is innocent?

THE MOTHER
Because of our faith. Because we know who He is.

THE CARPENTER
But is it good? Is it righteous?

The Sabbath had become a weapon for many Jews, a symbol of an exclusive, fiercely nationalistic commitment. Joseph’s fixation on these specific rules highlights how, for him, “the rule mattered more than the reality” (Mark for Everyone, Tom Wright). The true meaning of the commandment, celebrating God’s redemption, had been lost beneath a layer of human custom.

Even through his fundamentalism, the film does offer glimpses of Joseph’s virtue, such as when he washes Mary’s feet. This act of servanthood suggests that despite his flaws, his faith still leads him to exhibit the true, Godlike love that Jesus would later perfect.

In the third act, The Carpenter’s Son pushes Joseph’s internal struggle to both a physical and theological climax. When a snake bites Joseph’s leg (with echoes of Gen 3:14-15), Jesus arrives and demands that Joseph tell him who his Father is. Hesitant, due in large part to his belief that to speak God’s name is a sin, Joseph finally admits that Yahweh is Jesus’s Father. Only then does Jesus heal the snakebite, as if to tie Joseph’s physical healing to his spiritual breakthrough and echo Christ’s words in the gospels, “Your faith has healed you.” The snake, in this context, becomes a metaphor for how sin was closing Joseph off to God’s new work in Jesus.

Joseph’s journey from rigid religious adherence to the eventual confession of Christ’s identity underscores the film’s best (if perhaps unintended) theological lesson: the law and the scriptures all point to Christ.

“The scriptures spoke of purity, and set up codes as signposts to it; Jesus was offering the reality. When you arrive at the destination you don’t need the signposts any more, not because they were worthless but precisely because they were correct. The starting-point is to realize that the Jewish scriptures aren’t to be seen as a timeless code of behaviour, but as the story which leads to Jesus.”
- Mark for Everyone, Tom Wright

The Carpenter’s Son forces Joseph to let go of the signposts (his strict, nationalistic interpretation of the Law) because the destination (the living Christ) has arrived. It’s an incredible and emotional journey, one well-suited to Nicolas Cage’s frequently overdramatic nature. Cage swings big here, delivering a performance that is at times jarringly out of sync with the others, but which perfectly matches the character’s spiritual dissonance with the divine events unfolding around him.

A Film For No One?

For all its strengths and flaws, The Carpenter’s Son ultimately suffers from a lack of clear audience focus. A film intended for Christian audiences – even one meant to challenge them – should have been more careful in its handling of the nature of Christ. But a film intended for secular audiences might have taken greater narrative risks instead of relying so heavily on subtle biblical imagery and themes that only religious viewers would truly recognize and understand.

This makes The Carpenter’s Son a particularly difficult work to unpack. It’s not scripturally accurate, but it never claims to be. And while many Christians (including myself) will take issue with its depiction of Jesus, I hope viewers will at least take the opportunity to place themselves in Joseph’s shoes and arc.

Particularly in this time of advent, how will we react when confronted with the new work of our living, mysterious God?

Welcome to this month’s Cinema Snapshots! At the beginning of each month, I reflect on what I watched the prior month and provide a quick “snapshot” of my thoughts on those films. So without further ado, here are my Cinema Snapshots for February 2026.

28 Years Later: The Bone Temple

Dr. Kelson finds himself in a shocking new relationship - with consequences that could change the world as they know it - and Spike’s encounter with Jimmy Crystal becomes a nightmare he can’t escape.

An early contender for best of the year, the 28 Days Later franchise revival continues to defy expectations with this newest entry. The Bone Temple is quieter, darker, and more spiritual than I ever expected. Ralph Fiennes delivers yet another fantastic performance as an introspective, secluded scientist, and Jack O’Connell provides the perfect foil as a crazed cult leader.

How would Christians respond to a zombie apocalypse? Would they turn away from God in disbelief? Embrace the demonic? Or continue to persevere and trust in God’s plan? From Fiennes’ character wondering of another, “Were you lost and now are found?” to O’Connell crying out “My father, why have you forsaken me?,” this film is quite overt in its Christian references and symbolism. The Bone Temple certainly earns its R rating due to some graphic violence (not unusual for this series or the zombie genre as a whole), but those that watch are in for some incredible musings on faith.

★★★★☆

Good Luck, Have Fun, Don’t Die

A man claiming to be from the future takes the patrons of an iconic Los Angeles diner hostage in search of unlikely recruits in a quest to save the world.

Good Luck, Have Fun, Don’t Die is a little long and a little preachy, but the entire film—including the length and preachiness—is such a singular, coherent vision about artificial intelligence and humanity that it just manages to work. Director Gore Verbinski brings together insane visual concepts, wild performances (Sam Rockwell is a delight), a fun musical score from Geoff Zanelli, and a timeline-jumping screenplay in one of the most fun blockbusters in recent years.

★★★★☆

The Housemaid

Trying to escape her past, Millie accepts a job as a live-in housemaid for the wealthy Nina and Andrew Winchester. But what begins as a dream job quickly unravels into something far more dangerous—a sexy, seductive game of secrets, scandal, and power.

The Housemaid seemingly never aspires to be great, but there’s nothing wrong with a decent mystery thriller. Amanda Seyfried is outstanding, stealing the show with a campy, over-the-top performance that was perfect for the film’s tone. Sydney Sweeney unfortunately isn’t as great as her co-lead, but I’m not sure this casting suited her, and the role itself is pretty thankless and blandly written.

★★★☆☆

Now You See Me: Now You Don’t

The original Four Horsemen reunite with a new generation of illusionists to take on powerful diamond heiress Veronika Vanderberg, who leads a criminal empire built on money laundering and trafficking. The new and old magicians must overcome their differences to work together on their most ambitious heist yet.

I really enjoy the first two Now You See Me films, as cheesy as they can be. But this third entry in the franchise just never worked for me from start to finish. The film introduces far too many characters for its own good (perhaps in an attempt to create spinoff films down the line), but even stranger, features very little magic.

This series has always blurred the line between heist film and magic show, but here the filmmakers lean fully into the crime thriller genre, adding magic tricks as set decoration rather than as the focal point. And that’s to say nothing of the wildest attempt at a South African accent you’ll ever hear. Count this as a disappointment.

★★☆☆☆

Jane Austen’s Period Drama

England, 1813. In the middle of a long-awaited marriage proposal, Miss Estrogenia Talbot gets her period. Her suitor, Mr. Dickley, mistakes the blood for an injury, and it soon becomes clear that his expensive education has missed a spot.

I don’t often write about short films, but this Oscar-nominated short is an absolute riot. Created by a YouTuber, Jane Austen’s Period Drama is simple, hilarious, and beautifully shot, and I’m glad the Academy broke off from their typical stuffy and depressing nominees to give this short some recognition. You can watch the full film above!

From the Archives

Jeanine Thomas is far from your typical Hollywood producer.

From her background in psychology and education to working for prisons and tech companies (all while raising four kids), she demonstrates a keen interest in understanding and caring for humanity. Her film production debut, The Optimist, represents the culmination of her life experiences and the fulfillment of a decade-long promise she made to a Holocaust survivor.

The Optimist tells the true story of Herbert Heller (Stephen Lang), who kept his miraculous escape from the Auschwitz-Birkenau death march a secret for 60 years, even from his family. That is, until he meets Abbey (Elsie Fisher), a young teenager whose own brush with pain and death inspires him to open up as well, leading the two of them to exchange their stories as a meaningful and healing friendship is born.

The production of The Optimist was itself a feat of endurance. During the pre-production process, Thomas was diagnosed with Stage 4 lung cancer that had metastasized to her brain. She used that sense of urgency to push the film through the challenges of the pandemic and her own ongoing treatment, filming in both the redwood forests of Marin County and the historic streets of Prague.

Thomas and I recently spoke about the making of the film. During our conversation, which has been edited for length and clarity, we discussed her connection with Heller, the casting of Stephen Lang, and how her personal battle with cancer gave her the perspective necessary to finish a story about finding hope in the darkest of places.

Over the years, we’ve seen many events and figures of the Holocaust get explored in cinema. So, what was it about Herbert Heller’s specific journey that made you feel like this was a story that needed to be told?

Herbert was an amazing man. I loved spending time with him, and he told me all about his story, which just blew my mind, knowing that he escaped at 15 by himself after his family had disappeared. That was a big piece. And then he said, “Hey, get me talks in school.” So then I watched him speak to these classes and they really stayed quiet; they really listened and talked to him after. It just made me realize, “Wow, this is a movie.” Not just his story alone, but also how he’s connecting with these kids and giving them a different perspective.

One of the stories that he told me—and he showed me the letter—is that he got letters from all of the kids. One of the first times he spoke at a school, he got a letter from a girl saying, “Wow, I was going to write a suicide note to my parents this week, and after hearing your story, if you can make it through what you made it through, I’ve got this.” There are so many stories like that, and kids are looking for those connection points that give them a reason to stay here and find a reason to stay. That’s why I was pulled to make this film.

Absolutely, the film really does show how Herbert connects with youth in a special way. We hear all about the attention span issues that youth have, and there certainly seems to be a generational disconnect in our world at times. What do you think it was that made his story and message resonate so well with young people?

First off, I think they hear, “Okay, this 88-year-old Holocaust survivor is coming in to speak at your school,” and they think, “Great, we can sit and do nothing.” Then they’re impacted by the fact that he’s up there and he’s funny. For him to tell this story that I think weighed on him a lot more than he let on, he had to intersperse pieces of laughing—making people laugh, and making himself laugh, I’m sure. I think it was a pleasant surprise to these kids. Because it was presented that way, they heard what he was saying more. It affected them more and made them think, “Well, maybe my past does matter.” It gave them a very different perspective: if he can make it through that, why am I complaining about a broken iPhone that my parents won’t fix?

You were there, you had a chance to get to know him and see him talking with kids. During the pre-production process, when you were looking at casting his role, what were you looking for? What was it about Stephen Lang? Were there any qualities that made you think, “Yes, that is Herbert”? What drew you to certain actors to play him?

I obviously wanted someone Jewish and someone that kind of looked like Herbert. Our casting agency out of New York—I didn’t even know who Stephen Lang was—we came up with some different names for them and they said, “What about Stephen Lang?” I had never seen Avatar at this time. And they were like “Yeah, he was in Avatar,” and I said, “That doesn’t mean anything to me.” But I saw his picture and, for me, his picture looked so much like Herbert. I said, “Yes.” Everyone else told me he was an amazing actor.

Fun story: when he showed up to shoot—we shot the film in Marin, California, and also in Prague—the director and I took him out to dinner. He showed up in cowboy boots, dressed up, and he was the most stylish 70-year-old I’ve ever seen. We had a wonderful dinner, and after he left, I said to the director, “Finn, he’s amazing, he’s a great guy, but how is he ever going to play Herbert?” Then I was on the set a couple days later and all of a sudden I saw this guy dressed up like Herbert shuffling along. I did a double take and it was Stephen. He stayed in character the entire time he was shooting. He was amazing. So, back to your question, I let the other people choose because I didn’t really know; I just knew he looked like him. If they said he was a great actor, great. And he was not only a great actor, but just a really good person.

He portrays the role wonderfully. You have a really unique background in education and psychology. How did you feel that background, not being from the film industry, helped you during production? And were there any times where it might have been a hindrance and you had to rely on other people?

Oh, I had to rely on other people a lot, and I still do. If we’re being real, I think it takes a village for anything we do. So, in that realm, it was good. As far as jumping into this, I feel like everything I’ve done in the past brought me to this point to be able to make impactful film and media. The psychology aspect really helped me shape the making of this film. Working in a jail for a while helped. Raising four kids definitely helped. I’ve started other companies and worked in the tech space, too. All of it feels like it was just getting me ready for this.

[The team] shared with me a little bit about your personal journey and your battle with cancer. I was wondering if you would mind sharing some of your story and how that impacted your approach to the film?

Yeah. Where do I start? We worked on the script for three years before I got sick. We got the script to a place where I felt we were done, but then COVID hit and none of us knew what to do. The project went on a shelf. Fast forward a year, I was having issues with vertigo. After three months of vertigo, I decided to have it checked out. They did an MRI and found three tumors in my brain. They said, “You’ve got to have surgery right away.” I went to Boston for surgery and they told me there was a 50% chance I’d make it through, and if I did, they didn’t know what my life would be like after.

I sat in my room alone because of COVID. I very much heard a voice say, “If you want to go during this surgery, you can. And if you stay, you have to do what you came here to do.” I remember saying, whether it was out loud or not, “I’m coming back. I have a film to make.” I wasn’t nervous going into the surgery at all. They were able to remove two of the tumors. One of the tumors shrunk from the chemo pills I’m still on today. They tested the tumors and found I had Stage 4 lung cancer that had metastasized to the brain. I had to do radiation for a month. During that time, I called my screenwriter, who then became my director, and I said, “Hey, we need to make this film right away.” We started the process while I was doing radiation. As soon as I could fly, I flew back to San Francisco. That was the summer of 2021, and we started shooting in April of 2022.

Looking back on it now—and I still deal with cancer; I have tests every three months—the silver lining is that it has given me urgency. I don’t take any day for granted. I really wanted to finish this film. It made me jump through hurdles that I’m pretty sure I would have run away from before the cancer. In a way, it was like the universe giving me a gift and saying, “You’ve got big stuff to do here. You’ve got changes to make; make them.” The silver lining of it helped me through this process and to the finish line more than it hurt me.

What a miracle. You are so incredibly strong, and I hope you know that. Your story is remarkable. My outlet focuses on finding spiritual themes and resonance in film. Do you think there are any specific themes that stand out in this film that a faith-based audience in particular might appreciate?

I think there’s so much faith in this film, and perseverance for sure. It’s about giving people a reason to live and a reason to go deeper. As far as the spiritual aspect, at least for me, we are all being asked to dig deeper and do better. I feel like this film really helps people do better. It’s very hard for anyone of any age to walk into that theater and walk out the same person. I believe they walk out a better person. The beauty of this film to me is its non-divisiveness, which the world needs right now. Spiritually, again, I feel that message I heard before: “Let’s all come together, let’s all do better. Let’s all create heaven on earth.” I feel like this film is a stepping stone.

We’ve already seen how Herbert’s story united the young people he spoke to, and hopefully this film does the same in uniting audiences. You alluded earlier to the long production life of this film. How did things change from your initial concept to where it ended up?

Looking back on the script, we really created the movie that I wanted way back then. One of the biggest differences was the location. We were originally going to shoot everything in one place, but after I got out of the hospital, I realized we had to shoot in both locations. Prague is Prague; I didn’t want to try to recreate it, and I didn’t want to try to recreate the redwoods either. That change helped the script become more alive.

When I started making this, I thought it would take three years. Everyone laughed at me, and now I get why. But the story stayed the same. Herbert passed in 2021. In my talks with him between 2017 and 2018, I told him, “I’m going to make this film; you’ve got to give me 10 years, you’ve got to be at the premiere.” He said, “No problem.” He was very alive then—alive in life. His wife passed during COVID, and I saw him be ready to go after that. I said, “It’s okay. You’re not going to be here, but I am going to keep my promise and I will finish this film and it will go out to the world.” Honoring Herbert is what helped me keep it the same from inception to release.

You always love to hear that the idea made it through even over a long span of time. I did want to ask you about the title. It was called Avenue of the Giants at one point, and then Liberation was discussed. Now it’s called The Optimist. What were the discussions there and what made you feel like The Optimist was the right title?

That change came about this summer. We were in talks with someone about distributing the film and he said, “You’ve got to get butts in seats, and you’re going to need a better title. Avenue of the Giants feels very indie. If it’s on a poster you’re walking by, you might glance at it, but you don’t know what it means, so you just keep walking.”

We all came together, and the director came up with the name The Optimist. We all chose that name for many reasons. Everyone wants optimism today; everyone is leaning towards hope. Herbert is definitely an optimist. His father was an optimist. Abbey, after going through what she went through and moving in a different direction, you could say she has become an optimist.

The working title way back when was Lucky Man. Whenever I was talking to Herbert, he always said, “I just got lucky. I’m just lucky.” I said, “Herbert, you made a lot of your luck happen.” Herbert’s older brother was very academically smart, and Herbert would often have survivor’s guilt, feeling like his brother should have lived instead of him. But I told him, “You weren’t just lucky, Herbert. You grabbed a rucksack that was off to the side. So many people saw that and walked by because they didn’t want to step out of line; you stepped out of line and grabbed it. You got lucky that it was still there, but you made your luck happen.” We didn’t go with Lucky Man because the storyline of the girl took on more importance over time. I felt it was important not to focus on just one person; it was bigger than just him.

I want to go back to something else you mentioned: the film shooting in both Prague and California. Having seen the film, I can’t imagine having to choose only one location because they are so distinct. Even the coloring is different. You’ve got lots of long, slow takes when you’re in Prague, whereas you’ve got a little bit more handheld work in California. I loved how visually distinct you made the two timelines. Talk to me a little bit about how you differentiated the two.

We didn’t want to go to full black and white because a lot of films do that. If you notice, the coloring is made to feel a bit like sepia. Our production team over there, Stillking Films, was phenomenal. They were absolutely amazing and I learned so much working with them. I am so glad that we chose the two different shooting areas, even though it was like making two movies and trying to put them together. I wasn’t in the editing room, but I had a lot of talks with them. It’s nice that they look so different. That wasn’t my creative genius stuff, but I’m glad it happened.

One question I always like to ask is: Is there anything you wish I had asked you about? Something you haven’t been able to talk about that was important to you during this process?

Well, I feel it’s important to mention that around the film, we’ve created two awareness campaigns with everything I have learned through this whole process. I really wanted to give light to two issues that are near and dear to my heart. With Holocaust survivors, we have over 30,000 to 35,000 living in the US today. Of that number, 30% to 35% are living in poverty. This is something a lot of people don’t know, including a lot of my Jewish friends. We are doing an awareness campaign around that, as well as helping fund a company called KAVOD SHEF, which is out of Tennessee. They help “fill the gap” for Holocaust survivors in need. I feel like that’s important for everyone in the U.S. to know.

For the teen side, we are bringing awareness to an organization called Bring Change to Mind. They’re stepping into a lot of schools and helping kids destigmatize talking about mental health, connecting, and learning perseverance. I’m actually giving 20% of my proceeds to KAVOD SHEF and 20% to Bring Change to Mind. Outside of the film, I’m working on ways to bring down the suicide statistics. For 10 to 34-year-olds, the second leading cause of death is suicide, which to me should be like 1%. I’m looking at ways to help our change-makers of the future, our youth, get excited about being alive, finding their purpose, and connecting with love rather than fear, coming into this world to make it better.

I’ve loved hearing your story and the story of this film. It’s incredible what you were able to accomplish. I really appreciate you giving me the time to speak with you today.

Oh, thank you. It’s been great.

The Optimist is in theaters March 11 & 15. You can watch a video of my interview with Jeanine Thomas below.

The following was first published on Film Fisher.

“You think you can just build a prison of memories to lock her in?”

In Inception, Cobb’s personal dream sessions break every one of his rules for dream worlds. He warns others not to base dream worlds on reality, stating “building dreams out of your own memories is the surest way to lose your grip on what’s real and what’s a dream.” But every time he dreams, the dreams are built from real memories of his dead wife, Mal, and their young kids.

Inception can be a complicated film to explain, but at its most basic level, the film is about Cobb, a thief who steals information by entering his targets’ dreams – their subconscious. Wanted and on the run, a client offers to erase Cobb’s criminal history and reunite him with his children if he’ll instead plant an idea in someone’s subconscious, a process called inception.

Cobb’s status as a fugitive due to his past as a criminal provides a constant external threat to his mission, but these external forces are also mirrored internally as he’s haunted in his dreams by the malicious memory of Mal, who is sabotaging missions and threatening his grip on reality. Whether in the real world or in his dreams, Cobb can’t escape the past and can’t stop looking back at what might have been.

This culminates in a showdown with Mal several dream layers deep (Limbo), as she threatens to ruin his final mission and any chance for a future of freedom. It’s here that Cobb is faced with a choice: Stay with Mal in the crumbling hellscape of his past memories, or let go, move forward, and seek a fresh start.

To the audience this seems like an easy decision: just move forward. But as stories have warned us for millennia, looking back is a far more tempting proposition.

A Pillar of Salt

While only taking up a portion of two chapters in the Bible (Genesis 18-19), Christians and non-Christians alike are likely familiar with the story of Sodom and Gomorrah’s destruction, where Lot’s wife was turned to a pillar of salt. Angels come to save Lot and his family from the cities’ destruction, warning them, “Run for your lives! Don’t even look back.” But Lot’s wife couldn’t resist. Lot’s Wife, a poem by Russian-Soviet poet Anna Akhmatova, is particularly memorable for its description of her temptation and demise:

And the just man trailed God’s shining agent,
over a black mountain, in his giant track,
while a restless voice kept harrying his woman:
“It’s not too late, you can still look back

at the red towers of your native Sodom,
the square where once you sang, the spinning-shed,
at the empty windows set in the tall house
where sons and daughters blessed your marriage-bed.”

A single glance: a sudden dart of pain
stitching her eyes before she made a sound...
Her body flaked into transparent salt,
and her swift legs rooted to the ground.

Jesus recalled this story in his teachings, warning his followers that when the Son of Man appears “no one on a rooftop should go down into the house to get anything. No one in a field should go back to the house for anything. Remember what happened to Lot’s wife” (Luke 17:30-32). In Inception, it’s easy to assume that Mal is the analogue to Lot’s wife, with Cobb being Lot. But Cobb much more closely resembles Lot’s wife, paralyzed like a pillar of salt by his inability to move on.

As biblical scholar Theodor Gaster puts it, “Within the dramatic context of the story this means, of course, that they must set their faces hopefully toward the future, not nostalgically toward the past” (Myth, Legend and Custom in the Old Testament, 1969). But there’s much more nuance to the lessons of Inception and Lot’s wife than simply forgetting the past.

Christian Memory

Christianity does not teach that forgetting the past is good. In fact, remembering rightly is essential. “Do this in remembrance of me,” Christ instructs his disciples (Luke 22:19). Israel cherishes the Exodus story, with even baptism itself serving as an ongoing “acting out” of God’s deliverance from Egypt. The psalmist remembers the deeds and miracles of the Lord (Psalm 77:11).

So memory itself isn’t the danger. The danger is how we remember, clinging to the past as though you could – or should – live there again. It turns memory into a refusal to accept the present, a grasping after what God has already asked us to release, and a substitute for trust in God’s future.

This is Lot’s wife, practically saying, “I must have what I’ve lost. If this is the price of moving forward, I won’t pay it.” This is also Cobb’s version of Mal. He remembers her out of his own grief and guilt, not through pure love. His memory becomes an idol and as a result his dream sessions, no matter how hostile, become a world he would rather live in than reality.

Jesus tells a potential follower, “No man who puts a hand to the plow and looks back is fit for the kingdom of God” (Luke 9:62). The Wisdom of Solomon even calls the pillar of salt a sign that Lot’s wife “refused to believe.” This description clarifies what was already implied in the Genesis account and is emphasized by Christ: looking back when we’ve been called to trust in what’s ahead is a sign of disbelief.

Sadhu Sundar Singh succinctly and powerfully emphasized the Christian calling to look ahead in his hymn, I Have Decided to Follow Jesus:

I have decided to follow Jesus;
No turning back, no turning back.

The world behind me, the cross before me;
No turning back, no turning back.

Past Destruction and Future Hope

As Inception reaches its end and we travel with Cobb deeper and deeper into the dream worlds, we see that Limbo greatly resembles a destroyed Sodom, as the screenplay poetically describes:

Ariadne lies in the SURF, STARING up at a CLOUDLESS SKY. A tremendous BOOM prompts her to look around her- URBAN BUILDINGS PILED right down to the water. The buildings are DECAYING, falling into the ocean like a GLACIER calving. Cobb WADES towards her through the shallow water. Ariadne looks up at the crumbling city around them.

ARIADNE
This is your world?

COBB
It was. And this is where she’ll be.

“This is where she’ll be” is a fitting moment of clarity for Cobb. It’s a recognition not just of Mal’s physical location, but that she is a piece of his past, crumbling around him. The past is the only place she can exist.

As he confronts Mal for the last time, he finally realizes it’s time to move on. It’s time to look away from the death, destruction, sin, and decay that defines his past and this Limbo world. “I miss you more than I can bear,” Cobb tells her. “But we had our time together. And now I have to let go.”

Inception and the story of Lot’s wife encourage us to strive for redemptive remembrance, a type of memory that fuels hope. Cobb’s entire arc is a battle between destructive and redemptive memory. His backward-looking memory traps him in Limbo, where he clings to his dead wife and the destroyed world they had built. His forward-looking memory seeks to reunite with his children and finally lets him leave illusions behind.

And in the film’s final moments, he saves Saito (the mission’s benefactor) in the same way, pleading with Saito’s memory of what was promised not as a way of looking back, but so they can move forward to the future. “I came back for you... I came to remind you of what you once knew... to take a leap of faith.”

Inception’s ambiguous ending is among the most famous in recent cinema history. Cobb, believing he’s back in the real world, spins a top that tells him if he’s awake or dreaming. But before he can get his answer, he sees his children and is so filled with joy that he abandons the top so he can embrace them.

The spinning top, left unresolved as the film cuts to black, leaves viewers with a tense uncertainty. Is he still trapped in a dream? Or has he made it back to the real world? But as it relates to Inception’s themes, this question doesn’t actually matter. Cobb’s character has overcome his inability to move on; he’s stopped looking back at a life of mistakes and is fully ready to embrace the future.

Lot’s wife looked back and lost her life.

Cobb finally looks forward ... and that promised future is all that matters.

The Arts & Faith Community has announced 105 nominees for its Top 25 Spiritually Significant Women‑Directed Films list, recognizing films across decades, genres, and cultures. The nominations include documentaries, shorts, and narrative feature films that explore spirituality in meaningful ways. The group seeks to elevate films that invite deeper reflection and engage questions of meaning, belief, suffering, redemption, justice, and the human search for purpose – universal experiences that span religious traditions around the world.

The nominations will be narrowed down to 25 films through a voting procedure, with the final winners announced on May 18, 2026, on the group website, artsandfaith.com.

The nominations, collected by 25 volunteer jury members, are a testament to the community’s depth of knowledge and appreciation for film. The slate spans silent films such as Lois Weber’s The Rosary, blockbusters like Greta Gerwig’s Barbie, canonical art-house works such as Claire Denis’ Beau Travail, and contemporary indie films like Eva Victor’s Sorry, Baby. Project leader Lindsey Dunn explains the decision to focus on women-directed films as a celebration and a corrective: “A 2024 study known as the Celluloid Ceiling Report found that only 16% of the top 250 grossing films were directed by women. Yet in 2023, Fandango reported that 60% of people buying movie tickets were women. These films and the voices that created them deserve to be found, appreciated, and celebrated by faith communities seeking truthful, humane stories that reflect the world God loves.”

Arts & Faith is an online community that consists of film lovers, critics, educators, and historians who care deeply about the intersection of cinematic stories and spirituality. Originally an internet discussion board for people who wanted to have thoughtful conversations about film, Arts & Faith began curating lists of spiritually significant films in 2004. It is currently led by Dr. Kenneth Morefield, who established the group’s current online home in 2019, artsandfaith.com. Lists are designed to serve as a resource for faith communities, educators, and viewers seeking films that encourage spiritual contemplation and formation.

For questions about the Arts & Faith community, please contact owner Kenneth Morefield at kenmorefield@gmail.com. For questions about the women-directed films list, please contact project leader Lindsey Dunn at zeethelibrarian@gmail.com.

List of nominated films, in chronological order (also available to view on Letterboxd):

The Life of Christ, dir. Alice Guy-Blaché (1906)
Falling Leaves, dir. Alice Guy-Blaché (1912)
The Rosary, dir. Lois Weber (1913)
Hypocrites, dir. Lois Weber (1915)
Shoes, dir. Lois Weber (1916)
The Holy Night, dir. Elvira Notari (1921)
Craig’s Wife, dir. Dorothy Arzner (1936)
Meshes of the Afternoon, dir. Maya Deren (1943)
At Land, dir. Maya Deren (1944)
Outrage, dir. Ida Lupino (1950)
The Hitch-Hiker, dir. Ida Lupino (1953)
Forever a Woman, dir. Kinuyo Tanaka (1955)

The Star of Bethlehem, dir. Lotte Reiniger and Vivian Milroy (1956)
Araya, dir. Margot Benacerraf (1959)
Cléo from 5 to 7, dir. Agnès Varda (1962)
The House is Black, dir. Forugh Farrokhzad (1962)
The Trouble with Angels, dir. Ida Lupino (1966)
Wanda, dir. Barbara Loden (1970)
A New Leaf, dir. Elaine May (1971)
Adoption, dir. Márta Mészáros (1975)
Moses und Aron, dir. Danièle Huillet and Jean-Marie Straub (1975)
Harlan County, USA, dir. Barbara Kopple (1976)
The Ascent, dir. Larisa Shepitko (1977)
Girlfriends, dir. Claudia Weill (1978)

My Brilliant Career, dir. Gillian Armstrong (1979)
Fast Times at Ridgemont High, dir. Amy Heckerling (1982)
Born in Flames, dir. Lizzie Borden (1983)
Testament, dir. Lynn Littman (1983)
Yentl, dir. Barbara Streisand (1983)
Vagabond, dir. Agnès Varda (1985)
Golden Eighties, dir. Chantal Akerman (1986)
Real Genius, dir. Martha Coolidge (1986)
Who Killed Vincent Chin, dir. Christine Choy and Renee Tajima-Peña (1987)
Big, dir. Penny Marshall (1988)
Crossing Delancey, dir. Joan Macklin Silver (1988)
Salaam Bombay!, dir. Mira Nair (1988)

The Company of Strangers, dir. Cynthia Scott (1990)
Daughters of the Dust, dir. Julie Dash (1991)
A League of Their Own, dir. Penny Marshall (1992)
The Piano, dir. Jane Campion (1993)
Little Women, dir. Gillian Armstrong (1994)
Home for the Holidays, dir. Jodie Foster (1995)
Eve’s Bayou, dir. Kasi Lemmons (1997)
The Prince of Egypt, dir. Brenda Chapman and Simon Wells (1998)
Beau Travail, dir. Claire Denis (1999)
But I’m a Cheerleader, dir. Jamie Babbitt (1999)
The Matrix, dir. Lana and Lily Wachowski (1999)
The Virgin Suicides, dir. Sofia Coppola (1999)

American Psycho, dir. Mary Harron (2000)
The Gleaners and I, dir. Agnès Varda (2000)
Away from Her, dir. Sarah Polley (2006)
Marie Antoinette, dir. Sofia Coppola (2006)
Persepolis, dir. Marjane Satrapi and Vincent Paronnaud (2007)
Wendy and Lucy, dir. Kelly Reichardt (2008)
An Education, dir. Lone Scherfig (2009)
Bright Star, dir. Jane Campion (2009)
Lourdes, dir. Jessica Hausner (2009)
The Hurt Locker, dir. Kathryn Bigelow (2009)
Corpo Celeste, dir. Alice Rohrwacher (2011)
The Queen of Versailles, dir. Lauren Greenfield (2012)

A Girl Walks Home Alone at Night, dir. Ana Lily Amirpour (2014)
Selma, dir. Ava DuVernay (2014)
The Babadook, dir. Jennifer Kent (2014)
Unbroken, dir. Angelina Jolie (2014)
Mustang, dir. Deniz Gamze Erguven (2015)
The Invitation, dir. Karyn Kusama (2015)
The Royal Road, dir. Jenni Olson (2015)
The Innocents, dir. Anne Fontaine (2016)
Lady Bird, dir. Greta Gerwig (2017)
Let the Sunshine In, dir. Claire Denis (2017)
The Burden, dir. Niki Lindroth Von Bahr (2017)
The Rider, dir. Chloe Zhao (2017)

Leave No Trace, dir. Debra Granik (2018)
Wild Nights with Emily, dir. Madeleine Olnek (2018)
A Beautiful Day in the Neighborhood, dir. Marielle Heller (2019)
Atlantics, dir. Mati Diop (2019)
Blinded by the Light, dir. Gurinder Chadha (2019)
First Cow, dir. Kelly Reichardt (2019)
Portrait of a Lady on Fire, dir. Celine Sciamma (2019)
Saint Maud, dir. Rose Glass (2019)
The Wind Phone, dir. Kristen Gerweck (2019)
Athlete A, dir. Bonni Cohen and Jon Shenk (2020)
Nomadland, dir. Chloe Zhao (2020)
I’m Your Man, dir. Maria Schrader (2021)

The Power of the Dog, dir. Jane Campion (2021)
Aftersun, dir. Charlotte Wells (2022)
Showing Up, dir. Kelly Reichardt (2022)
The People’s Joker, dir. Vera Drew (2022)
The Woman King, dir. Gina Prince-Bythewood (2022)
Women Talking, dir. Sarah Polley (2022)
A Thousand and One, dir. A.V. Rockwell (2023)
All Dirt Roads Taste of Salt, dir. Raven Jackson (2023)
Anatomy of a Fall, dir. Justine Triet (2023)
Are You There God? It’s Me, Margaret, dir. Kelly Fremon Craig (2023)
Barbie, dir. Greta Gerwig (2023)
La Chimera, dir. Alice Rohrwacher (2023)

Origin, dir. Ava DuVernay (2023)
Past Lives, dir. Celine Song (2023)
The Eternal Memory, dir. Maite Alberdi (2023)
The Starling Girl, dir. Laurel Parmet (2023)
Ghostlight, dir. Kelly O’Sullivan and Alex Thompson (2024)
I Saw the TV Glow, dir. Jane Schoenbrun (2024)
Jazzy, dir. Morissa Maltz (2024)
The Substance, dir. Coralie Fargeat (2024)
Sorry, Baby, dir. Eva Victor (2025)

Directors with multiple nominations:

Gillian Armstrong, Alice Guy-Blaché, Jane Campion, Sofia Coppola, Claire Denis, Maya Deren, Ava DuVernay, Greta Gerwig, Ida Lupino, Penny Marshall, Sarah Polley, Kelly Reichardt, Alice Rohrwacher, Agnès Varda, Lois Weber, Chloe Zhao

About Arts & Faith

Arts & Faith is an online community dedicated to exploring the intersection of cinema and spirituality. Founded in 2004, the group curates lists, hosts discussions, and fosters dialogue about films that engage questions of meaning, belief, and transcendence.

Media contact:

Lindsey Dunn
Top 25 Project Manager, Arts & Faith
zeethelibrarian@gmail.com

Welcome to this month’s Cinema Snapshots! At the beginning of each month, I reflect on what I watched the prior month and provide a quick “snapshot” of my thoughts on those films. So without further ado, here are my Cinema Snapshots for December 2025.

Eternity

In an afterlife where souls have one week to decide where to spend eternity, Joan is faced with the impossible choice between the man she spent her life with and her first love, who died young and has waited decades for her to arrive.

Eternity was recommended to me by my sister and it completely defied my expectations. It’s sweet, funny, heart-wrenching, dramatic, poignant, and romantic all at once. The film takes every cliche in the book and finds a way to make it feel fresh. And with a strong leading trio of Elizabeth Olsen, Miles Teller, and Callum Turner, there’s a lot to love here.

★★★★☆

Apocalypse in the Tropics

When does a democracy end and a theocracy begin? Petra Costa investigates the increasingly powerful grip Christian evangelical leaders hold over politics in Brazil. She gains extraordinary access to the country’s top political leaders, including President Lula and former president Bolsonaro, as well as to Brazil’s most famous televangelist: a magnetic pastor who aspires to play puppet master to the far-right leader.

I’ll admit my ignorance to the cultures and politics of other countries, but I had no idea that Christian evangelicals were transforming Brazilian politics in the same way we’ve seen here in the United States, down to the same phrasing and rhetoric. Apocalypse in the Tropics is a great documentary interrogating the how and why behind it all, particularly well shot and edited.

This was a personal nomination of mine for the “Best Documentary” category in the North Carolina Film Critics Association, and even though it didn’t get in, I highly recommend it.

“Everything that happens has happened before; nothing is new, nothing under the sun.” - ‭‭Ecclesiastes‬ ‭1‬:‭9‬

★★★★☆

People We Meet on Vacation

Poppy’s a free spirit. Alex loves a plan. After years of summer vacations, these polar-opposite pals wonder if they could be a perfect romantic match.

Netflix’s new romcom (based on Emily Henry’s book of the same name) features strong lead performances and an interesting hook, but is simply way too fast paced. At just 109 minutes (including credits) the film has little time to let the audience get to know the characters (or even enjoy their vacations), which leads to minimal investment in the romantic relationship. It’s a well shot film and far from awful, but it could have been far better than the surface level romance it ultimately provides.

★★★☆☆

Disneyland Handcrafted

Oscar and Emmy nominated filmmaker Leslie Iwerks returns with an all-new Disney documentary giving viewers an up-close look at the dedication, effort, and passion that was required to realize a dream that would go on to inspire millions around the world.

You have to go into any Disney-produced documentary expecting a certain level of propaganda – of course they’re releasing a film that talks about how great they are. But Leslie Iwerks has a real talent for storytelling, and the archival footage in Disneyland Hnadcrafted is masterfully restored and edited together. It’s impressive when documentaries can be told solely through old footage and voicovers, nothing new.

★★★☆☆

Shelter

A man living in self-imposed exile on a remote island rescues a young girl from a violent storm, setting off a chain of events that forces him out of seclusion to protect her from enemies tied to his past.

I hate to be reductive, but at this point you know what you’re getting when it comes to Jason Statham films. Sure you get some unique variants (his Guy Ritchie collaborations come to mind), but he’s found his niche making a very particular (often one note) type of film. It’s not a sub-genre I particularly enjoy, but I’m home with my seven month old and the screener hit my inbox so I gave it a shot.

Shelter is competently made, relies effectively on music and visuals during long dialogue-free stretches, and – for awhile at least – tries to be something different before falling back into the same action beats and cliches Statham has become known for. I can’t say I particularly enjoyed it, but there’s enough here for fans of his to have a good time.

★★☆☆☆

Miracle: The Boys of ‘80

This is the story of the “Miracle on Ice,” when the 1980 US Hockey Team beat the USSR in the Olympic semi-finals at the height of the Cold War to bring home a gold medal. Their iconic underdog story is told with never-before-seen 16mm footage and firsthand reflections from the players who were brought back to the scene of their historic victory.

Miracle: The Boys of ‘80 is an uplifting documentary with high quality archival footage. There’s far less “new” info here than one would expect (if anything, I was surprised how much the 2004 movie Miracle stayed true to this story), but I greatly enjoyed hearing this story from the mouths of those who lived it.

★★★☆☆

The Rip

Trust frays when a team of Miami cops discovers millions in cash inside a run-down stash house, calling everyone — and everything — into question.

The Rip is a suspenseful and twist-filled action flick reminiscent of Tony Scott’s early 2000s films. At times it takes itself too seriously (c’mon, have fun!), and I didn’t always love how the action was shot and cut, but the superb lighting and high contrast cinematography makes up for it. Ben Affleck and Matt Damon always deliver, and it’s fun to see this duo onscreen together (alongside a tremendous – and frankly overqualified – supporting cast.

★★★☆☆

One Last Adventure: The Making of Stranger Things 5

An inside look at the years of effort and craft that went into the final installment of the Duffer Brothers’ generation-defining series.

It’s refreshing to see this level of honesty and lack of censorship for such a major franchise. I remember with great fondness watching the Star Wars prequel documentaries and featurettes as a teenager and seeing George Lucas work through each film (disasters and all). I got a similar feeling here.

Sure, the filmmakers seem over their head at times, but it’s great to see a behind the scenes film that actually shows the cast and crew troubleshoot issues instead of simply a PR puff piece about how great each actor is. This is what “making of” documentaries should be.

★★★☆☆

From the Archives

In addition to my writing for A Cloudy Picture, I’ve had the privilege of being a member of the North Carolina Film Critics Association and the Arts & Faith jury for multiple years now. I’m pleased to share the end-of-year nominations for these two groups below.

The Arts & Faith Ecumenical Jury — 2025

I was honored to participate in the Arts & Faith Ecumenical Jury for the third year, working alongside a group of fellow critics to nominate and rank the top 10 films released or distributed in 2025 that we recommend to Christian audiences. The final list is as follows:

1. Wake Up Dead Man

2. Train Dreams

3. Sinners | Writeup by Christian Jessup

4. It Was Just an Accident

5. The Phoenician Scheme

6. Frankenstein

7. A Little Prayer

8. The Life of Chuck

9. Sentimental Value

10. Superman

View the Arts & Faith 2025 List

North Carolina Film Critics Association Announces Best of Cinema Nominees for 2025

The North Carolina Film Critics Association (NCFCA) announces its nominees for the Best of Cinema 2025, recognizing outstanding achievements in filmmaking across narrative, documentary, animated, and technical categories.

Sinners emerges as this year’s most nominated film with 19 nods. The total exceeds the previous NCFCA record of 17 nominations, held by Everything Everywhere All at Once. One Battle After Another follows closely with 16 nominations, while Marty Supreme comes in with 11 nominations and Frankenstein earns 10. Additional multiple nominees include KPop Demon Hunters and No Other Choice (six each); Hamnet, Sentimental Value, and Train Dreams (five each).

The NCFCA is composed of film critics living and/or working in North Carolina, representing a wide range of voices across print, broadcast, and digital media. This year’s nominees reflect the breadth of that membership, honoring ambitious studio releases alongside independent and international cinema.

Winners are scheduled to be announced January 26, 2026.

View the NCFCA 2025 Nominees

Last year I had the pleasure of seeing Alamo Drafthouse’s 30th anniversary re-release of Forrest Gump. Winner of 6 Academy Awards, including Best Picture, Robert Zemeckis’ Forrest Gump follows its titular character, an Alabaman who “happens into one memorable experience after another through a panorama of American history from the 1950s to the present.”

I’m a film composer, and as I sat in theaters paying special attention to Forrest Gump’s musical score, I realized that composer Alan Silvestri uses his music to embrace the film’s core theme of destiny versus “accidents.” He frequently oscillates between intentional thematic association (using a musical motif to clearly represent a person or feeling) and incidental thematic association (using the same musical motif over seemingly unrelated scenes).

Of course, nothing in film is really an accident ... or at least it shouldn’t be in the hands of a caring filmmaker. But Forrest Gump’s recurring musical elements reveal much about the film’s thematic intentions, and the music’s structure and placement contains quite a few lessons for Christians grappling with their own destiny.

Let’s dive into those musical motifs, and then break down what it all means.

Feather Theme

The feather motif is without a doubt the most recognizable music from Forrest Gump (thanks in no small part to the iconic nature of the scene itself). Given its popularity, it would be easy to assume this was the film’s main theme. But this famous melody only appears twice in the entire film: once at the beginning as we watch the feather flit across the sky and land at Forrest’s feet, and once at the end as the feather leaves the ground, flying up to the sky once more.

The feather itself represents the film’s intertwining of destiny and free will, the feather randomly floating around, but somehow ending up right at Forrest’s feet. And the melody of the musical motif conveys this incredibly well. Look above at how the melody goes up and down, sometimes step by step, sometimes leaping and falling, sometimes hitting the beat, sometimes arriving off rhythm. It’s a perfect musical representation of mixing randomness and purpose together, creating a musical box of chocolates (you never know what you’re going to get).

It’s an interesting choice by of the filmmakers to bookend Forrest Gump with this music, but not use it anywhere else. The melodic construction and its visual association with the feather makes it a perfect motif to bring back every time Forrest contemplates his life or discusses destiny. Why not use it further?

Perhaps the motif is so memorable and closely associated with the feather, that it made the most sense to only use it at the beginning and the end. Much like the Star Wars main theme (another famous musical track that is also rarely heard outside of the opening and end credits of each film), perhaps the feather motif was best for setting the tone of Forrest’s journey, rather than accompanying him on that journey.

So what music does accompany Gump throughout his life? I’ve noticed a three-note pattern that appears in a variety of ways all over the film. Those three notes embody the holistic concept of destiny — destiny in our triumphs, in our hardships, and in our relationships. I’ve highlighted these notes in yellow in each of the sections below so they’re easier to spot.

Triumphant Destiny

The “Triumphant Destiny” motif is one of the easiest to spot in the film. We’re introduced to this lively and joyous music as Forrest runs to escape bullies, the braces falling off his legs as he smiles and takes off in amazement. The melody is played on triumphant brass instruments as strings accompany it with a flurry of sound.

We get variations on the same theme as Forrest comically becomes an All-American football player (this time utilizing more of a marching band instrumentation), and later when Forrest decides to run across the country. These are the most triumphant moments of the film, which makes it easy to label this theme as such. Every time we hear that theme kick in, we know something exciting is in store for our protagonist.

Silvestri also uses this musical association to hint at future success. Just listen to the cue “That’s My Boat.” Forrest has been unsuccessful in his shrimping endeavors, and his boat comically crashing into the dock as the scene comes to an end isn’t an encouraging visual cue for the future. But as he sees Lieutenant Dan and erratically swims to shore to meet him (John 21:7, anyone?), we hear Silvestri hint at the “running” theme in the score. It’s not a full blown rendition, but the slow swells of the music build into the Triumphant Destiny motif’s joyfully bouncing strings, hinting that maybe, just maybe, this unlikely pair will find success in the shrimping business. And they do.

Whether foreshadowed or in the moment, this aspect of destiny is meant to evoke feelings of happiness and victory. When we hear this musical motif, we can expect life’s best moments in the film.

Melancholy Destiny

The Melancholy Destiny motif contains a much slower tempo and subtler orchestration, which makes it easy to miss its striking resemblance to the Triumphant Destiny motif, both containing a single high note falling down a perfect fifth to two repeated lower notes.

Though it’s hinted at briefly in moments such as “Pray With Me” and “They’re Sending Me to Vietnam,” this motif is more noticeably introduced when a despondent Lieutenant Dan bemoans both the loss of his legs and the loss of his perceived purpose, a sacrificial death in the war. “We all have a destiny,” he cries. “Nothing just happens, it’s all part of a plan. I should have died out there with my men! But now, I’m nothing but a cripple.”

With its melodic similarities to the Triumphant Destiny motif, this music’s use in the film reveals itself as a dark mirror to the triumph and joy of Forrest’s successes. Despite being in many of the same situations, Forrest seems to always find luck and success, while other characters such as Lieutenant Dan or Jenny find only (perceived) loss.

This theme returns to start the aforementioned “That’s My Boat” scene, and occurs at multiple other points such as “I Never Thanked You,” when Lieutenant Dan seems to have finally made peace with the outcome of his life). The mood and instrumentation of this motif lends itself to introspection. How has the perception of destiny shaped these characters’ lives for better or for worse? Where have they perhaps missed destiny’s hand at work, and are they reckoning with its pattern over time?

Love and Loss

The Love and Loss motif is used in the film across a variety of scenarios and characters, but is always used to represent Forrest’s relationships (his mother, Jenny, his son), and the eventual loss of some of those relationships.

So how does this relate to destiny? Via the incorporation yet again of the destiny notes, highlighted above. That makes three frequent and recurring musical motifs that all incorporate the destiny pattern, reinforcing destiny’s significance across the entirety of Forrest’s life.

We’re introduced to the motif when Forrest meets Jenny for the first time on the school bus, and that music follows his relationships throughout the film, from Jenny’s return to the death of Forrest’s mom to Forrest meeting his son for the first time (an acting masterclass from Tom Hanks).

While the three-note destiny motif is located here within a much larger melody, its presence still speaks volumes. Destiny in this context isn’t just about life’s triumphs and losses, it is about the people that are placed in one’s life, whether seemingly random or intentional, that have an unmistakable impact on life’s journey.

What Does It All Mean?

It’s always interesting to break down a musical score, but you may still be asking yourself: why does it matter? What does it all mean for a filmgoer, let alone a Christian?

“Our destiny is only defined by how we deal with the chance elements to our life,” Tom Hanks reflected. “Here is this [feather] that can land anywhere and it lands at your feet. It has theological implications that are really huge.”

Hanks isn’t wrong about the theological implications. What humans may view as mere accidents or chance are often instances of God working in our lives.

This means the film, the film’s score, and on a broader scale, the Christian life, is about finding purpose in the chaos and meaning in the randomness. It means making sense of musical notes and motifs that seem to have no reason to show up where they do. It means finding God’s will for the future even if one cannot seem to find His presence in the present.

Many critics lambast the bizarre moral implications of Forrest Gump, a story which could be positioned as a simple-minded man succeeding with little-to-no thought given to his actions while those around him that seek independence and strive for change are met with failure and even death. Is the film really saying that an ignorant yes-man is the only type of person that can succeed in our country? That reading is a fair one (and carries with it its own deeply tragic implications), but a Christian reading paints that picture in a far kinder light.

Martin Luther argued “Man, before he is renewed into the new creation of the Spirit’s kingdom, does and endeavours nothing to prepare himself for that new creation and kingdom, and when he is re-created does and endeavors nothing towards his perseverance in that kingdom; but the Spirit alone works both blessings in us, regenerating us, and preserving us when regenerate, without ourselves. By ‘free will,’ not one person can be saved. But by free grace, many will be saved.” (On the Bondage of the Will, 1525)

In other words, every good and perfect gift in the film – and in our own lives – comes from God. (James 1.17) As critics so readily point out, Forrest’s triumphs are certainly not of his own works, lest he should boast. On the contrary, every person in the film that does try to achieve things by their own works fails. It’s understandable to take issue with this story and thematic choice, but as a parallel to the Christian life, it’s reassuring.

And this assurance comes via the three-note destiny pattern that appears in nearly all of Forrest Gump’s musical motifs, pointing to destiny’s work, which is God’s work, in everything. Destiny’s music is present in Forrest’s triumphs, in Lieutenant Dan’s and Jenny’s melancholic lowpoints, and in every relationship of the film, and points to the interconnectivity of each of those disparate elements in Forrest’s life.

Even the music’s arrangement and instrumentation points to lessons for the Christian life. It’s very easy to recognize the destiny notes in their “triumphant” form. But it’s much harder to recognize those notes when they’re subtly played in their “melancholy” form, or when they’re mixed into the larger melody of love and loss. How much easier is it to see God’s handprint in life’s triumphs than in its hardships? Or even through the rollercoaster of emotions that human relationships can bring? Nevertheless, He is at work in it all, just as those three notes are at work in all of Forrest Gump’s score.

Reflecting on his journey at the end of the film, Forrest sums up the story’s theme: “I don’t know if we each have a destiny, or if we’re all just floating around accidental-like on a breeze, but I think maybe it’s both. Maybe both is happening at the same time.”

The quote poignantly explains the battle that we all face in our search to find a purpose and identity. And when I find myself reflecting on Biblical arguments for free will and predestination, I ultimately arrive each time at Forrest’s fair, if perhaps unsatisfying, answer... “maybe it’s both.”

Welcome to this month’s Cinema Snapshots! At the beginning of each month, I reflect on what I watched the prior month and provide a quick “snapshot” of my thoughts on those films. So without further ado, here are my Cinema Snapshots for December 2025.

The Smashing Machine

In the late 1990s, up-and-coming mixed martial artist Mark Kerr aspires to become the greatest fighter in the world. However, he must also battle his opioid dependence and a volatile relationship with his girlfriend Dawn.

I was impressed with Dwayne Johnson’s performance as Mark Kerr, and was (per usual) in love with Emily Blunt’s supporting performance. It’s a shame those performances were wasted here though.

The Smashing Machine is a meandering film with no sense of progression. It checks off every sports film cliche in the book (drug addiction, arguments with a romantic partner), but seemingly has no interest in the sport of wrestling, shooting those scenes without any sense of weight or tension. A film that reaches the end and makes you go “wait, that’s it?”

It’s not a bad film by any means, but it is a film with missed potential.

★★★☆☆

Jay Kelly

Famous movie actor Jay Kelly embarks on a journey of self discovery confronting both his past and present, accompanied by his devoted manager Ron.

Writer and director Noah Baumbach frequently has sappy and sentimental tendencies, but those tendencies felt much less subtle and more artificial here. That said, he finds a way to make it work, especially thanks to George Clooney and Adam Sandler’s outstanding performances and chemistry.

There are some really cool shots in Jay Kelly (Linus Sandgren is one of my favorite cinematographers) and it has an unexpected and tender score from Nicholas Britell. But its the beautiful ending that truly makes the film, even if some drama in the middle doesn’t work as well.

★★★★☆

Hamnet

The powerful story of love and loss that inspired the creation of Shakespeare’s timeless masterpiece, Hamlet.

Director Chloé Zhao wrings every bit of emotion from this already emotional tale, forgoing frequent cuts and camera movements and allowing the audience to sit with the characters and their relationships, all accompanied by a tender score from Max Richter.

Jessie Buckley’s powerful turn as Agnes (Shakespeare’s wife) is the film’s standout, but everyone from Paul Mescal to child actor Jacobi Jupe delivers earnest and raw performances. The emotional beats can at times feel forecasted or manufactured, but when a cast and crew is this committed to the story, you can’t help but give in to your feelings.

★★★★☆

Marty Supreme

In 1950s New York, Marty Mauser, a young man with a dream no one respects, goes to hell and back in pursuit of greatness.

As someone who liked but didn’t love the Safdies’ last film, Uncut Gems, this is everything I’ve wanted from their intense style of storytelling (though this film is written and directed solely by Josh Safdie, not his brother). Timothée Chalamet is electric here, making you root for Marty and become invested in his story despite the flawed protagonist’s many unlikeable qualities. But it’s far from a solo effort; the entire ensemble is perfectly cast and brings their A game.

Darius Khondji beautifully shoots the film with a naturalistic 70s throwback style, and Daniel Lopatin’s synth-heavy score keeps the energy dialed up to 100. It may not be for everyone, but it’s one of my favorite films of 2025.

★★★★★

The Testament of Ann Lee

The extraordinary true legend of Ann Lee, founder of the devotional sect known as the Shakers.

I didn’t know much about the history of the Shakers, but this unique musical drama was the perfect way to tell their story. Music is such an important part of worship and religion, and the variety of the musical numbers (as call and response, as quiet prayer, as dance sequences) felt like the perfect way to show how deeply connected music is with faith.

Amanda Seyfried is outstanding as the title character, Daniel Blumberg’s score and songs are hypnotic (along with the strange choreography), and writer/director Mona Fastvold beautifully conveys the rituals and mysticism of the Shaker religion.

★★★★☆

Is This Thing On?

As their marriage quietly unravels, Alex faces middle age and an impending divorce, seeking new purpose in the New York comedy scene while Tess confronts the sacrifices she made for their family—forcing them to navigate co-parenting, identity, and whether love can take a new form.

It’s nice seeing Bradley Cooper’s directorial voice on a smaller scale, but the script probably could have used some polishing.

“Oh, and next time? A few more jokes.” It’s a line from the film, but perhaps it’s advice the film should have taken to heart. With Will Arnett as the lead, the film really could have embraced being a dramedy instead of just a drama. Instead, it feels like a film that should be a comedy, but is desperately trying to be taken seriously.

★★★☆☆

I watched a lot more in December, but didn’t have time to write about them all here! Feel free to follow me on Letterboxd for more of my thoughts on film, or subscribe below to see future updates where I’ll likely dive deeper on some unmentioned December watches such as Wake Up Dead Man.

2025 has been quite the year! I’ve loved writing in this space, collaborating with other publications, and composing music for films and worship. To top it all off, my wife and I welcomed our first child, Rory, in June.

I’m grateful for everyone that keeps up with A Cloudy Picture and enjoys reading my thoughts here on faith and film. So as we enjoy the final few hours of 2025, here is a roundup of the writing I’m most proud of.

Faith & Film Writing

Filmmaker Interviews

Additional Writing

Be on the lookout in January for the Arts & Faith Ecumenical Jury — 2025 and the North Carolina Film Critics Association’s 14th Annual Best in Cinema Awards. I’m honored to be a part of both of these organizations and excited to share our nominees and winners.

See you next year!

In 2022, I started A Cloudy Picture to discuss the intersection of faith and film, uncovering Christian themes and messages in films of all genres and scales. Since its founding, the site has connected me with other critics and outlets with similar missions, including Arts & Faith and Film Fisher, where I am now a contributor.

So with a newfound network and a spiritually prolific year in cinema, I am proud to introduce A Cloudy Picture’s first end-of-year list: the Top Spiritual Movie Scenes of 2025. Critics across multiple states, countries, and faith backgrounds have contributed reflections on the cinematic moments that impacted them most from a Christian perspective.

One theme surfaced with remarkable consistency throughout the year: light and darkness. Again and again, the films of 2025 turned to the light and the dark in the form of song lyrics, as part of their visual language, and in the thematic foundations of their texts.

Rian Johnson’s Wake Up Dead Man (a film that was mentioned almost universally among conversations for this list) uses light to great effect, particularly for moments of spiritual revelation or awakening. Several characters reference Paul’s road to Damascus experience, and Johnson leverages this in the film’s dramatic use of light onscreen, as one critic breaks down later. The Carpenter’s Son similarly uses light as a visual cue, with God’s light shining on Joseph following the birth of Jesus, and Joseph seeking to find that light again throughout the rest of the film.

Sinners builds its entire framework around the boundary between light and dark through vampiric mythology. Elsewhere, prominent song lyrics featured light as a central motif, from Snow White (“Where magic and light fill the air / Something good will grow”) to Sinners (“I don’t care if sun don’t shine once more / Don’t let it shine”) to Highest 2 Lowest (“I see clearer / I can finally see the light”).

Another prominent thematic recurrence this year involved works, witness, and the manifestation of belief. Several films this year wrestled with the biblical tension between the insufficiency of works to save and the undeniable power of faithful action to draw others toward Christ.

The Phoenician Scheme articulates this most directly, juxtaposing the futility of Korda’s (Benicio del Toro) debt with the quiet, persuasive devotion of his daughter Liesl (Mia Threapleton), whose lived faith softens her father’s heart. In Roofman, the fellowship of believers becomes transformative, reshaping a fugitive’s outlook on life. And in Wake Up Dead Man (like I said, this film came up a lot), Father Jud’s testimony and character act as the catalyst for Benoit Blanc’s self-described “Damascus” moment.

Countless films, in different keys, asked similar questions: What does it mean to seek the light? And how does a life shaped by belief leave an imprint on others?

This focus certainly isn’t coincidental. In a string of years marked by increased skepticism toward Christianity – a cynicism often earned, given the ways faith has been wielded carelessly or cruelly – these films were focused on the nature of witness. This is the kind of faith that draws people closer to truth through humility, kindness, and sacrifice. Just as importantly, it exposes the damage done when faith is used as a weapon.

What follows are five scenes that captured these themes and more in 2025. Taken together, they offer a revealing snapshot of a year in cinema that asked what it looks like when belief is embodied well, and what kind of light that embodiment can cast.

THE BALLAD OF WALLIS ISLAND
’Grief and Joy’

By BRIAN DUIGNAN
ScreenAttention

—

“Now is your time of grief, but I will see you again and you will rejoice, and no one will take away your joy.”– John 16:22b

Grief giving way to joy. It was a promise that must have seemed outlandish when Jesus gave it to his disciples at this moment. He had just told them he would soon be going away. His followers must have looked back with grief. They would have remembered the majesty of God they had experienced while they were face-to-face with Christ. Now they faced the new fear of having to lose all of that. That grief was indeed turned to joy when Jesus sent his Holy Spirit to be with his followers after ascending to heaven. To be with Christ even after he seems to have departed - that is the joy no one will take away.

All of this came back to my mind as I reflected on a scene near the end of this year’s The Ballad of Wallis Island. In this lovely film, a middle-aged widower attempts to bring back something he has lost. It is a loss that has been a grief to him for years. He invites the living members of the disbanded folk duo McGwyer Mortimer to come perform a concert for him. This musical pair has long been beloved to both him and his late wife.

When he invites the two artists to play together again for him, he is trying to summon the majesty of the past right there on the beach behind his remote Welsh island home. I will not spoil details, but I can say that when the film arrives at that island beach we are surprised at how it has gotten there. This special scene deals with grief and joy in a way that calls out to my own experience as a Christian. It unites a grief for and yearning remembrance of the past with a looking forward to joys and new life to come.

I look back on the words of Scripture and history to see the Christ who walked the earth. I strain my ear and heart to see how the Holy Spirit is bringing Christ into every waking moment of the now. I look ahead to the joyful hope of seeing Christ face-to-face in eternity. Like the characters in this scene, I am experiencing all of these at once as if they are part of the same trembling breath.

ScreenAttention

Attention to art and faith, beauty and mystery...from the center seats in the movie theater

By Brian Duignan

THE PHOENICIAN SCHEME
‘I’ll Cover the Gap’

By TIMOTHY HOUSE
Film Fisher

—
Zsa-zsa Korda spends most of The Phoenician Scheme trying to manipulate everyone and everything around him. Korda, the sort of man Friedrich Nietzsche admired and propped up as the ideal, seems unstoppable in his quest to fund the great project of his lifetime, and all he needs to do is convince his partners in the venture to cover a portion of The Gap, an amount of money Korda describes as “all of my fortune and a little bit more.”

In my favorite scene in the film, after Korda has professed to his daughter a desire to become a Christian like her, he declares, “I’ll do it. I’ll cover the gap.” In order to accomplish the world-changing infrastructure project he has dedicated his life to, the man who has lived his whole life robbing from Peter to pay Paul and vice versa realizes that the only way to accomplish his purpose is to accept the price it will require and pay it himself.

“It’s me. I’ll cover the gap. Everything we got, our entire fortune, plus a little bit more. I proceed as a silent partner, taking a complete loss of all my assets with no opportunity for any future upside, and I’m still on the hook for unlimited debts and deficits. Fine. I’ll do it. The slaves will be paid. The famine will be finished. We’ll beat those bureaucrats. And my most important project of my lifetime comes to pass...without us.”

That act of selflessness represents Korda’s conversion, and it is one of the most moving and inspiring pieces of character development I’ve encountered at the movies this year.

FilmFisher

Academic yet accessible film analysis from a classical Christian perspective.

By Christopher Perrin

SINNERS
’This Little Light of Mine’

By CHRISTIAN JESSUP
A Cloudy Picture

—
Unless you’re a Marvel fan, you rarely see a post-credits scene on lists of the best film moments. But in the case of Ryan Coogler’s Sinners, a brief, special moment follows the entirety of the credits and ties together this theologically rich film about temptation, cultural and religious appropriation, and, of course, vampires.

In the scene, Sammy sits in an empty church and sings his own unique arrangement of This Little Light of Mine. Throughout the film, Sammy grapples with the choice imposed by his father: singing the blues or embracing religion. In a standout sequence midway through Sinners, he sings “I’m full of the blues, holy water too,” acknowledging the dichotomy within himself. And near the film’s end, Sammy rejects his father’s command to stay in church and drop the guitar, seemingly denouncing faith to pursue the blues. But this post-credits sequence implies Sammy has at last embraced Christianity and the blues, realizing that both live inside of him. He doesn’t have to reject one to love the other.

The song choice itself also carries significance. Light and darkness play a large role in Sinners, from the use of vampires as antagonists (who come out at night and burn in sunlight) to the use of light and shadows in the film’s cinematography. In what can only be described as the antithesis to This Little Light of Mine, patrons of the juke joint sing Pale, Pale Moon during the peak of the night’s debauchery, featuring lyrics such as “I don’t care if sun don’t shine once more” and “don’t let it shine.” This makes Sammy’s post-credits revelation even more powerful. Despite the fondness with which he remembers his night at the juke joint, he’s rejecting the call of darkness and plans to let his light shine.

With a fleeting glance, he looks off-camera to the cross, and the film cuts to black. It is finished.

A Cloudy Picture

Thoughts on faith, film, and who knows what else.

By Christian Jessup

A SENTIMENTAL VALUE / WAKE UP DEAD MAN
’Will You Pray for Me?’

By ANDREW EISENMAN
Pontificator

—
When I was younger, I worked for pastors, preachers, and bible colleges. These days, I cannot seem to stop thinking of myself as Christian, but I no longer engage with these institutions. As a result, I am for the first time surrounded by people I love for who they are, as opposed to the bond of common attendance. Some come from similar backgrounds and understand, and to others it is alien and dismissible. The two scenes in this year’s cinema that moved me with regard to faith have edified me deeply, articulating a mystery and an impulse within myself that I could not.

The first is a recurring monologue from Joachim Trier’s Sentimental Value. It’s moving in its recontextualization on and off the screen. One of the great undersung moments in entertainment journalism this year was 47 minutes into Trier’s appearance on Talk Easy with Sam Fragoso, who gets Trier to read this monologue on mic.

“You know I don’t believe in God at all. We came from a home where all that was irrelevant. We weren’t baptized. My sister and I had a civil confirmation just for the money. Then I had this kind of crisis. I was alone in the house again, lying in bed crying. I know everyone lies in bed crying at some point, but someone said praying isn’t really talking to God. It’s acknowledging the despair to throw yourself on the ground because that’s all you can do.”

“It’s acknowledging the despair to throw yourself on the ground because that’s all you can do.” So often, those who reject or avoid the word “faith” see religion as a tool of oppression and pain. They are historically more than correct. But many mistake correlation for causation. To pray to something larger than yourself is one of the great universal impulses, essential to the human condition. You can call it hope, you can call it desperation, delusion, or determination, but I think Trier summed it up as universally as possible. The expression of despair. That’s prayer.

The other scene is of course, Father Jud praying on the phone in Wake Up Dead Man, the most lauded sequence in the film and the faith scene everyone is talking about:

But I have yet to see it discussed in conversation with Sentimental Value, and their shared rejection of organized religion.

Father Jud’s counseling is not just an example of “a good one” when it comes to Priests, but of why the good ones persist despite the monstrous atrocities done in the name of God. Because if prayer is the universal expression of our despair, what is more commendable than to covet for yourself a lifetime of guiding and bearing witness to it?

And like all things, a practice does not have to be your profession in order for it to be your calling. In this way, the exvangelical Rian Johnson illustrates the dignity in choosing a life of faith at any level, however it is defined for you. If prayer is the expression of despair, then to carry the faith, to hope, even to decide there is just one life so live it well, it is all to say “Life sucks, but it’s better because there are others in it.” What a wonderful thing to believe.

WAKE UP DEAD MAN
’Father Jud Meets Benoit Blanc’

By ZANE GRAY
Zane’s Take at the Cinemas

—
2025 has been a fantastic year in film both for theatrical releases and streaming. But there’s also a surprising amount of movies this year that address the topic of faith and religion. One scene that struck me most comes from the latest chapter in the Knives Out series Wake Up Dead Man. It’s the first time Rian Johnson has played with faith-based material, but after he knocked it out of the park with Knives Out and Glass Onion, I had all the confidence in the world that Wake Up Dead Man would be another slam dunk. Sure enough, it was.

The scene that ultimately serves as the major backbone for our two main characters’ journeys is when we’re first introduced to Benoit Blanc (Daniel Craig), who walks into a church only to stumble upon Father Jud Duplenticy (Josh O’Connor). They introduce themselves and have a brief conversation about their stance on church and their relationship with God. When Jud asks Blanc about his history with faith, Blanc gives a harsh but powerful speech about the damaging and devastating impact that religion has caused on society and various cultures. In that moment, the lighting gives us a cold look, matching the very bleak tone of what he’s describing.

But things then shift to a more positive note. Jud, understanding all of Blanc’s concerns, adds that maybe there’s a deeper truth to all of the “stories” that the church tells, and as he does so, a beam of light shines right through the window behind him. Put another way, the sun comes out as Jud understands Blanc’s feelings towards the church but still explains his own faith. It’s earnest and sincere without invalidating Blanc at any moment. The scene isn’t just great writing and immaculate performances; it’s a moment that’s deeply profound and contains something that faith-based movies often forget to convey.

As cinema continues to wrestle with doubt and belief, darkness and light, I hope this list serves as both a reflection on the year behind us and an encouragement to watch closely in the year ahead. I’d love to hear which moments stood out to you, and how this year’s films shaped your own viewing experience as a Christian. If a scene moved you in ways we didn’t capture here, comment below and help expand how we talk about faith and film.

F1 roared into theaters this summer starring Brad Pitt as Formula One driver Sonny Hayes, who returns to racing after a 30-year absence to save his former teammate’s (Javier Bardem) team from collapse.

When director Joseph Kosinski began shaping the sonic identity of F1, he knew authenticity was key, shooting on location during real Formula One races and involving some of the world’s top racers in the production process.

The resulting film is a visual treat to be sure, but as a composer, I found myself drawn to F1 as an audio-immersive experience. It’s among the year’s best, with meticulous sound mixing and a heart-pounding soundtrack that reflects the thrill of Formula One.

Last month I had the pleasure of participating in press conferences with Kosinski, songwriter Ed Sheeran, and actor Javier Bardem, and asked each of them about how the film’s soundscape shaped (and was shaped by) their experience in the film. Their answers offer a revealing look at how sound became one of F1’s most essential storytelling tools.

“A Constant Soundtrack”

Kosinski’s films are known for iconic soundtracks and musician collaborations, from Tron: Legacy with Daft Punk, Oblivion with M83, and Top Gun: Maverick with its blend of score and original songs. But F1 demanded something more ambitious. “Anyone who’s been to an F1 race knows there is almost a constant soundtrack going when you’re at the race,” he noted. “It almost has a festival-like atmosphere.”

The global nature of Formula One also encouraged the director to think internationally when it came to musical selections. “I thought the songs we picked could reflect the global nature of [the sport],” said Kosinski, emphasizing how central the music’s sonic diversity was to the film’s identity.

That ambition became a creative and technical challenge: how do you balance a thunderous real-world sport with a musical score (let alone a series of original songs) without disrupting the edit or muting the emotional beats?

For Kosinski, the solution was to give each race its own sonic identity. “No two races were the same in the approach,” he explained, “whether in how we told the story, how we cut the sequence, or even the sound mix.”

Some races stay objective, letting the audience hear the crowd and the announcers as if they’re watching from the stands. Others place the viewer inside Sonny’s head, like the Las Vegas sequence where “all the other sounds disappear and you’re with him and feeling [the] score.” Those choices were part of the team’s constant effort to keep every race fresh and purposeful.

“Punch Through the Sound Mix”

Speaking of the score, Kosinski re-partnered with Top Gun: Maverick composer Hans Zimmer to develop a score that would complement the intensity of the racing sounds. “Hans and I talked a lot about what kind of score is going to be able to punch through this sound mix,” Kosinski recalled, “because these cars are intense.”

Zimmer returned to his electronic music roots to craft cues that wouldn’t get lost in the engine noise, but F1’s emotional journey required more than simple club beats. “In the dramatic scenes [the score could] go to a more orchestral and melodic place,” Kosinski said, adding, “No one writes a better melody than Hans Zimmer.”

F1 may not stand out among Zimmer’s filmography as particularly unique. He’s written for racing films before (Days of Thunder, Rush), and has frequently utilized electronic-heavy sounds (Chappie, Dark Phoenix). But if anything, F1 feels like a culmination of his career’s work, a blend of everything he’s written and performed since 1979’s Video Killed the Radio Star (yes, he was a member of The Buggles).

The titular score track, “F1,” perfectly introduces the score’s key elements, pulsing synths, propulsive drum machines, and a sweeping string melody. Meanwhile, softer tracks (No One Drives Forever) take that same melody but remove the percussive elements, creating a gentle, but emotional heart for the film.

With F1, Zimmer and Kosinski proved their powerful partnership from Top Gun: Maverick wasn’t a one hit wonder. But with Kosinski’s vision for a “global” soundtrack still to be realized, the score now had to coexist seamlessly with original songs – some still unwritten during production.

“A Really Big Rock Song”

That’s where Ed Sheeran came in.

Upon being hired to write and perform the film’s end title song, Sheeran was shown 40 minutes of the film and asked Kosinski for important phrases or concepts from F1. “It’s lovely to be brought in at that point of a movie,” Sheeran told me. “You actually feel like you’re part of building something rather than brought in as an afterthought at the end.”

In just two days he had written Drive, a “memorable piece,” as Kosinski calls it, still impressed by the speed and clarity of Sheeran’s creative response.

The song is a deviation from what fans may expect, an upbeat rock track that sounds quite unlike Sheeran’s well-established musical style. But, much like Zimmer’s return to electronica, Drive represents a musical homecoming for the English artist. “That’s the music I grew up listening to,” he fondly shared. “Those are the riffs that I learned from age 10. So, actually getting to kind of flex that muscle of picking up an electric guitar again and making something that’s really riff based, it was fun.”

From the “chugging” guitar riff to the rhythmic verses and soaring chorus, the song is a powerhouse of pure force that matches the film’s intensity. Sheeran described it as an attack on the senses, “which is essentially what F1 racing and driving is.” He was also quick to point out the valuable contributions of legendary drummer Dave Grohl and guitarist John Mayer, calling Drive “the sum of all its parts.”

As for his song’s integration with the score, it was important not to simply imitate Zimmer’s style. “I’ve known [Zimmer] for 13 years,” said Sheeran. “And we’ve always had a really good relationship. But his score is very different to the songs. This very much needed to be a really big riff-based rock song. The soundtrack and score complement each other, and there are bits that are woven in, but they are two separate entities.”

“It’s a Work of Art”

With Kosinski’s commitment to capturing the authenticity of racing, the F1 film sound design was always going to be a rigorous effort. That process actually started on set, where the actors were dealing with the very real challenge of acting and performing dialogue over the roar of real Formula One events.

For Javier Bardem, who plays team owner Rubén, that overwhelming sound was a constant component of his on-set experience. Most of Bardem’s scenes unfold inside the team garage, just feet from the race cars piloted by Pitt and co-star Damson Idris. “Damson and Brad driving themselves in those real races… crazy,” Bardem said. “They loved it. They couldn’t wait to get in the car.”

With that kind of noise surrounding him on set, I asked Bardem if it shaped his performance. “The sound that I was receiving as Rubén was ‘VROOOM,’” Bardem recalled, laughing as he mimicked the sound of the cars and the crowd.

But his immediate concern was whether any of his dialogue would survive above the noise. “I was like, ‘Okay, is there any of the dialogue that I’m going to have to do ADR? Basically all of it, right?’” But the crew exceeded his expectations. “The sound department did an amazing job, and I didn’t have to do much ADR.”

Real world Formula One champion Lewis Hamilton also became an unexpected part of the sound process during post-production. Kosinski would show him early cuts of the race sequences with a rough mix, and Hamilton would immediately spot things no one else could.

“He’d say ‘Oh, I’d be in fourth gear here, not third,’ or ‘I would shift 30 feet earlier,’ or ‘You should feel the pit wall on the right side because you’d hear the engine resonating.’ That kind of detail you wouldn’t get from anyone else,” Kosinski mused, noting that Hamilton’s involvement set the bar high for the film’s sound team.

Bardem may have questioned the sound approach during filming, but his appreciation for the finished product crystallized during his first IMAX viewing. “I sat down and I saw the movie with the sound design and I was like, ‘Jesus, the detail.’ The amount of work that they put into those moments on the racetracks are pretty amazing. It’s a work of art what they did,” Bardem says, describing the meticulous layers that brought the F1 film sound design to life.

Across all my press conferences, it became clear that the success of the F1 film sound design is the product of collaboration. Everything from Kosinski’s directorial instincts and Zimmer’s kinetic score to Sheeran’s rock experimentation and Hamilton’s technical input contributed to, as Bardem put it, “a work of art.” And like any good work of art, its power comes from the collective imprint of the many hands – and ears – that shaped it.

F1 is streaming now on Apple TV, and can be purchased on 4K, Blu-ray, DVD, or digital. So start your (TV’s) engines, crank up the volume, and enjoy the sonic immersion of Formula One racing.

Welcome to this month’s Cinema Snapshots! At the beginning of each month, I reflect on what I watched the prior month and provide a quick “snapshot” of my thoughts on those films. So without further ado, here are my Cinema Snapshots for November 2025.

Nuremberg

In postwar Germany, an American psychiatrist must determine whether Nazi prisoners are fit to go on trial for war crimes, and finds himself in a complex battle of intellect and ethics with Hermann Göring, Hitler’s right-hand man.

Nuremberg is a flawed, but powerful film following an American psychiatrist’s (Rami Malek) examinations of Nazi prisoners in the lead-up to the Nuremberg trials. The dialogue is often clunky and overly expository, but the screenplay as a whole is structured incredibly well. The film features one of Russell Crowe’s best performances ever (as Hermann Göring, Hitler’s right-hand man), but other supporting performances struggle under the weight of the material.

For every strength, the film has a weakness, but when it shines it shines, serving as an interesting (if lesser) companion piece to the 1961 masterpiece, Judgment at Nuremberg.

★★★★☆

Roofman

A former Army Ranger and struggling father turns to robbing McDonald’s restaurants by cutting holes in their roofs, earning him the nickname ‘Roofman’. After escaping prison, he secretly lives inside a Toys “R” Us for six months, surviving undetected while planning his next move. But when he falls for a divorced mom drawn to his undeniable charm, his double life begins to unravel, setting off a compelling and suspenseful game of cat and mouse as his past closes in.

There’s not much going on beneath the surface of Roofman, a pretty straightforward dramedy that doesn’t work hard to give characters depth or purpose.

But in spite of the script’s simplicity, the film is a blast. Channing Tatum is clearly having a fun time with the material, and Kirsten Dunst brings a level of emotion to her supporting role that elevates her character and the film as a whole. And as a native North Carolinian, I loved spotting all the filming locations in Gastonia and Charlotte!

★★★☆☆

Blue Moon

On the evening of March 31, 1943, legendary lyricist Lorenz Hart confronts his shattered self-confidence in Sardi’s bar as his former collaborator Richard Rodgers celebrates the opening night of his ground-breaking hit musical “Oklahoma!”.

Set on a single evening in 1943, Richard Linklater’s Blue Moon centers on lyricist Lorenz Hart (Ethan Hawke) as he grapples with love, loss, and legacy in his life. Though the film is an original screenplay by Robert Kaplow, it functions very similarly to a stageplay, from its single location setting to its dramatic dialogue and extended monologues.

Hawke excels in this dialogue-heavy style, much like his past collaborations with Linklater. Andrew Scott’s performance as Richard Rodgers is a welcome contrast to Hawke in the second act, and Linklater does just enough behind the camera to keep the film visually interesting and smoothly edited.

★★★☆☆ | Watch now on Netflix

Frankenstein

Dr. Victor Frankenstein, a brilliant but egotistical scientist, brings a creature to life in a monstrous experiment that ultimately leads to the undoing of both the creator and his tragic creation.

Frankenstein is a difficult film to review. It has plenty of flaws, but it also captivated me throughout, showcasing some of Guillermo del Toro’s best strengths as a director.

Del Toro’s collaborations with cinematographer Dan Laustsen have been visually stunning. They bring out the best in each other, as does composer Alexandre Desplat. However, their efforts in Frankenstein aren’t always perfect. Desplat’s music borders on campy, particularly in the first half, and I’m not a fan of the deep focus cinematography employed here by Laustsen. That said, Desplat treats the Creature with incredible musical tenderness, and some shots in the film are among the year’s best (including some subtle long takes). This is all accompanied by the lavish production design, intricate costumes, and exquisite hair and makeup. It’s easy to get drawn into the worlds del Toro builds, and all the craftsmanship on display makes Frankenstein no different.

I’m not quite sure if I love the Creature’s design in this film (though it’s certainly unique compared to other takes on the character), but Jacob Elordi gives a remarkable performance. He brings nuance and sympathy to a role that could very easily come across as silly.

Mia Goth and Christoph Waltz deliver their typical strong efforts, but I was underwhelmed by Oscar Isaac’s take on Victor Frankenstein. The script doesn’t do him any favors, but Isaac’s performance removes any hint of relatability or empathy for the audience. Of course, Mary Shelley’s novel always sought to demonstrate that the blame lies with Victor, not his “monster.” But one can still make Victor’s performance human and understandable, while still showing he’s at fault in the story. Del Toro and Isaac both seem to prefer making Victor an all-out, mustache-twirling villain, rather than a tragic character too caught up in his own flaws, subsequently painting the Creature as practically flawless. All that to say, this really could have used even 10% more nuance (strangely, I think Branagh’s version does a better job of this).

Guillermo Del Toro has been building to this film thematically and visually for his entire life. Some of his other films tackle these same themes better than Frankenstein, but despite its flaws, there’s no denying the overall strength of his adaptation.

★★★★☆ | Watch now on Netflix

No Other Choice

After being laid off and humiliated by a ruthless job market, a veteran paper mill manager descends into violence in a desperate bid to reclaim his dignity.

Park Chan-wook is one of the best working directors today, and he delivers yet another spellbinding film in No Other Choice. The film’s success hinges on an impressive tonal blend of humor and darkness (a staple of his work), complemented by a strong lead performance from Lee Byung-hun and a compelling musical score.

Few filmmakers are as willing to thoughtfully film modern technology as Park Chan-wook. It’s a seemingly small thing, but watching a film like this where he finds unique and meaningful ways to shoot phones and iPads is a delight. Be sure to check this one out.

★★★★☆

Ballad of a Small Player

Amid the glittering casinos of Macau, a gambler running from his past — and his debts — becomes fascinated by an enigmatic woman at the baccarat table.

I somewhat understand the lukewarm reaction to Ballad of a Small Player, but it’s right up my alley. Sure, it’s a recycled plot about a gambler in over his head, but the film is clearly meant to be more broadly metaphorical of someone stuck in a cycle of addiction and sin. Everyone calls Lord Doyle (Colin Farrell) a “lost soul” and irredeemable, and Doyle himself says “it would take a miracle to save me.” I’m always looking for spiritual themes in film, but Ballad of a Small Player puts those themes at its very heart and asks viewers to reflect on what exactly it takes to be saved.

Farrell is outstanding at playing this broken, desperate protagonist, Bertelmann’s score is appropriately frantic, and the cinematography is among the year’s best. This might be the weakest of Berger’s recent films, but only by a slim margin.

★★★★☆ | Watch now on Netflix

In case you missed it…

Over the past few weeks, I’ve had the pleasure of participating in press conferences with director Joseph Kosinski, songwriter Ed Sheeran, and actor Javier Bardem, and asked each of them a question about the sounds and songs that drive F1.

Joseph Kosinski Interview | F1

Your films are known for iconic soundtracks, from Tron: Legacy with Daft Punk, Oblivion with M83, and Top Gun: Maverick with its blend of score and original songs. With F1, what guided your decision-making about where to place songs versus score to maintain emotion and rhythm?

Joseph Kosinski: Well, anyone who’s been to an F1 race knows that there is almost a constant soundtrack kind of going when you’re at the race. So, it almost has like a festival-like atmosphere. So, I wanted to capture that in the races. Also, F1 is such a global sport. I thought the songs that we picked could reflect the kind of global nature of it. So, I was really excited to be able to pull artists from all around the world to work on this.

Obviously, as our composer, we have the legendary Hans Zimmer, who I also worked with on Top Gun: Maverick. And Hans and I talked a lot about what kind of score is going to be able to punch through this sound mix, you know, because these cars are intense. And it was it was fun because Hans got to kind of go back to his electronic music roots where he started and create a score for the races that was more electronic in its orchestration. So, it was able to kind of punch through, but then in the dramatic scenes go to a more orchestral and melodic place. And no one writes a better melody than Hans Zimmer. I mean, that theme is something that you just can’t get out of your head.

And then for the songs, you know, we were working with some of the best artists in the world. I would show pieces of the movie, and they would come back with options, and it wasn’t just about putting great music. The song had to be right for the scene. And, you know, I was lucky to have a whole bunch of incredible artists. Ed Sheeran, for instance, wrote the end title song and just asked me over email, “Send me some phrases or concepts from the movie that are important to you.” So, I gave him a bunch of lines, and two days later he sent that song back, and it’s just amazing to me that he was able to kind of put that together so quickly and have it be such a memorable piece.

Ed Sheeran Interview | F1

With Hans Zimmer scoring F1 and helping shape the overall soundtrack of the film, did you have any conversations with Zimmer on what musical style, instrumentation, and tone would best complement his score and the other songs?

Ed Sheeran: Yeah, I’ve known him for, I think we met around the time I did The Hobbit song, so maybe like 13 years ago. And we’ve always had a really good relationship. This wasn’t one of those ones where, like, I’ve been in movies before and you can kind of incorporate parts of the score into the song, but I think this one was very much like it needed to be a really big riff-based rock song that essentially kind of chronicles the movie in the verses and has a big chorus. And, I don’t know, in my head, I wanted the post-chorus to sound like a car starting. So, it was yeah, within that. But it’s kind of like his score is very different to the songs. The soundtrack and score, they both complement each other, and there are bits that are woven in, but they are kind of two separate entities, I think.

Was the score finished when you started writing the song?

Ed Sheeran: I think so. Yeah. I mean, I got shown maybe like 40 minutes of the movie, and obviously the movie is about 2 hours and 40 minutes. So, I assume quite a lot of it was done, but I was shown it in a—it wasn’t at the point where it was going to cinemas at all. It was in a stage where it was in edit and post and all of that sort of stuff. I found it exciting when I worked on The Hobbit movie, like watching a film when most of it was just sketches, and you then see the finished result. It’s lovely to be brought in at that point of a movie. As a movie fan myself, being brought in at a point where all the jigsaw pieces aren’t actually quite fitted, because you actually feel like you’re part of building something rather than brought in as an afterthought at the end.

Javier Bardem Interview | F1

Joseph Kosinski has spoken about how important sound was in this film, from capturing live car and crowd noise to selecting music that matches each scene’s tone. When you’re acting in a project where sound is such a defining element, do you feel that changes the energy on set or even influences your performance?

Javier Bardem: Well, I mean, in my case with [my character] Rubén, most of the times I was in the garage while the real races were happening. By the way, Damson and Brad driving themselves in those real races…crazy. Crazy that those two people would do that. I mean, it’s not only that they did it, it’s like they loved it. They couldn’t wait to get in the car, and they were doing laps and laps and laps and laps. And Lewis Hamilton said, “These guys are unstoppable, because we do this and we rehearse and we train, but we stay on the track for two hours. These guys were there like for six, seven, eight hours non-stop.”

Anyway, so the sound that I was receiving as Rubén was “VROOOM” [laughter]. And for me it was like, “Okay, is there any of the dialogue that I’m going to have to do the ADR? Basically all of it, right? Okay, I got it.” But the sound department did an amazing job, and I didn’t have to do much ADR. And it was when I sat down in an IMAX theater and I saw the movie with the sound design that I was like, “Jesus, the detail.” The amount of detail and work that they put into those moments on the racetracks are pretty amazing. Pretty amazing. It’s a work of art what they did.

F1 releases on Apple TV on December 12, and can currently be purchased on 4K, Blu-ray, DVD, or digitally rented. Follow my blog closer to F1’s streaming date for a detailed analysis of the film’s impressive sound work, including more quotes from Kosinski, Sheeran, and Bardem.

Slight spoilers for IN YOUR DREAMS (2025) ahead.

Dreams have long been a rich source for storytelling. Whether sharing the depths of their own dreams or using the dreamscape itself as a storytelling device, authors, artists, and filmmakers alike are drawn to what dreams reveal about ourselves and the world around us. The Walt Disney Company has practically made dreams their business (“A dream is a wish your heart makes.”).

Biblically, dreams are also of great importance. Figures like Joseph and Daniel demonstrate their connection to God by their ability to interpret dreams, and God uses dreams to guide His followers, warn the unfaithful, and reveal His will and His plans. Scripture treats dreams not as indulgent escapes, but as moments where God breaks through illusion with truth.

Releasing on Netflix this Friday, In Your Dreams (though far lighter in tone) treads a similar line, using fantasy to remind us that not every dream is meant to be lived out. And while the film may not be a revolutionary take on dreams (or animation), the passion and craftsmanship on display make this new animated film an enjoyable, family friendly watch.

In Your Dreams is a comedy adventure about Stevie and her brother Elliot who discover a magical book and journey into the absurd landscape of their own dreams. If the siblings can withstand a snarky stuffed giraffe, zombie breakfast foods, and the queen of nightmares, the Sandman will grant them their ultimate dream come true ... the perfect family. But as Stevie quickly discovers, dreams aren’t reality. And if she stays trapped in her fantasies for too long, there may be dire, lasting consequences.

At face value In Your Dreams has a standard setup, from an adventure in a magical world to a pair of bickering siblings to a kooky non-human sidekick. The film does its best to make these stereotypical elements stand out, with imaginative and varied character designs and lively voice acting from Craig Robinson as the aforementioned stuffed giraffe, Baloney Tony. The animation itself is commendable, unafraid to experiment with unique camera movements and expressive character reactions.

Sometimes it feels as if the movie is just going through the motions, from unwarranted comedic breaks seemingly insisting that kids laugh every few minutes to rushed character beats. Stevie’s character development in particular feels rushed, rejecting the temptations of her dreams and embracing the imperfections of life with far too much ease.

But the film’s rough edges actually contribute to that same thematic lens. As director Alex Woo put it, “sometimes we need to let go of what we dream life should be, and hold on to life as it actually is.” Stevie risks losing everything in the film in her pursuit of a fictitious life, nearly failing to see that everything around her is merely a facade of sand.

In the past I’ve written about Inception and how Cobb’s obsession with the dreams of his past life closely resemble that of the biblical story of Lot’s wife. Both characters are unable to look ahead to the future because they don’t want to lose what is already behind them:

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In Your Dreams shares the same DNA as these stories, not discouraging dreaming but warning of the dangers that come from being unable to let go. The Sandman’s glowing and flowy character design resembles traditional depictions of figures such as Santa or Zeus, clearly meant to be seen as a benevolent higher power.

But as the film goes on, his motives and methods are shown to be questionable. He may not act as a pure villain, but he becomes an antagonist, warping Stevie’s dreams to make her forget what is true. This sandy, dreamlike facade masquerading as reality is reminiscent of the book of Jeremiah, where God contrasts the false prophets’ dreams with His own true word:

“Their dreams and my truth are as different as straw and wheat.” - Jeremiah 23:28

This perspective is a fitting lens for a film about learning to discern between comforting illusions and reality’s harder truths. And this powerful and unexpectedly somber message is handled with much care and clearly comes from a personal place for the filmmakers, with Woo’s childhood experiences effectively informing the narrative and themes.

Ultimately, In Your Dreams reminds us that God’s truth and our dreams can be “as different as straw and wheat,” but that the separation, though painful, is what allows real life to grow. While the film might not be perfect, it offers a fun and thoughtful time for families to reflect on what really matters.