The new mystery film "Wake Up Dead Man: A Knives Out Mystery" features two central characters who are Catholic priests. The movie incorporates numerous religious references, drawing from the director Rian Johnson's Christian background. Consultation with priests, including Fr. Scott Bailey, helped establish the foundation for the film's religious characters. Despite containing objectionable content like violence and clergy misconduct, some critics view it as a significant Catholic film. The climax of the film centers around the Sacrament of Confession, highlighting its Catholic core.
3 months ago
The Netflix film Wake Up Dead Man: A Knives Out Mystery, released on December 12, 2025, centers on two Catholic priests as key characters in a murder mystery thriller.1
Director Rian Johnson, drawing from his Christian upbringing, consulted priests for authenticity, resulting in a story filled with religious references like Eve’s apple, Lazarus, and the Road to Damascus.1
Despite violence, sexual crudity, and objectionable clergy behavior, the film handles Catholicism with remarkable respect.1
It is praised by some, like Meg Hunter-Kilmer, as potentially "the best Catholic film I've ever seen," though not suitable for all ages.1
The film features two priests embodying opposing approaches: one defensive, angry, and insular; the other merciful, kind, and imitating Christ’s radical love without compromising truth.1
Johnson described this as pitting evangelical influences against positive church examples, mirroring real-life Christian conflicts in evangelization.1
The story's climax hinges on the Sacrament of Confession, depicted with "serious spiritual stakes" in a breathtaking, nail-biting scene.1
Priests Fr. Scott Bailey and Fr. Edward Looney noted initial discomfort from Hollywood elements but highlighted deeper, beautiful themes.1
The film could educate secular viewers on priestly ministry, showing a faithful priest offering real hope in Christ.1
It may stir lapsed Catholics toward Confession by vividly portraying absolution's transformative power.1
Analyze Catholic film portrayals of priesthood and confession
Catholic films and portrayals of the priesthood and confession reveal a profound cultural fascination with these sacred realities, often positioning priests as the visible embodiment of the Church's mystery and mercy. Drawing from Church teachings and cultural observations, such depictions range from reverent affirmations of priestly power to distorted or hostile critiques, yet they consistently underscore the priesthood's indispensable role in sacraments like confession. The Church calls for cinematic representations that distinguish the institution from individual failings, highlighting the priest as a minister of divine forgiveness while guarding the sacrament's integrity.
Films, whether explicitly Catholic or not, frequently portray priests and religious as metonymic representatives of the Catholic Church itself, capturing her "traditional ordering of her internal life." This obsession persists across genres: melodramatic hostility in Henry James's The American, sardonic world-weariness in Graham Greene's The Power and the Glory, or conspiracy-laden debunking in Dan Brown's works. Even anti-Catholic narratives cannot escape this gravitational pull, fixating on "the exceptional calling of the priest or the nun" as the Church's essence. Media coverage amplifies this, railing against "abusive priests" or fawning over figures like Mother Teresa, invariably testifying to "the tremendous importance of the Catholic priesthood, for good or ill."
Willa Cather's Death Comes for the Archbishop exemplifies a "pure Catholic note," concluding not merely with the archbishop's physical death but with his "deathbed memories of his earlier death to the world," when he and his friend renounced family and country for Christ. Such portrayals evoke the priesthood's "rupture and transcendence," standing surety for eternal goods beyond "social consolidation and earthly marriage." Converts drawn to Catholicism through film often seek this "something more than baptism and matrimony," sacraments Christendom agrees need no priest, craving instead the Eucharist, confirmation, or confession's regenerative power.
The sacrament of Penance, requiring confession to a priest, forms a cornerstone of these portrayals, reflecting its theological exigency: "All mortal sins... must be recounted by them in confession, even if they are most secret." Priests act in persona Christi, dispensing forgiveness with "fatherly tenderness whatever the gravity of the sin," mirroring Jesus's mercy toward the adulterous woman. This demands preparation: welcoming penitents, clarifying moral principles, and walking "patiently beside the faithful on their penitential journey."
Church documents emphasize the priest's indelible role, instituted by Christ and transmitted to apostles and successors for consecrating the Eucharist, forgiving sins, and more. Even sinful priests validly absolve by ordination's grace, countering errors denying this power. Pius XII urged confessors to avoid betraying sins, decreeing deposition and perpetual penance for violators of the seal. John Paul II hailed confession as a "true priestly mission," linking it to the Eucharist and urging priests to frequent it for personal holiness, rendering them "true ministers of Christ."
In film, this manifests as priests confronting human frailty—scandals evoking the "tremendous importance" of their office—yet ideally showcasing mercy's "positive efficacy" as a "school of spirituality" regenerating souls toward Christ's fullness.
Pope Pius XII outlined the "ideal film" in addresses to cinema professionals, insisting that depictions of ecclesiastical failings must "make clear to the spectator" the distinction "between institution and person, between person and office." The Church should emerge as "Holy Mother Church," from whom souls draw "human perfection and eternal happiness." Films ought to reflect "the true, the good, the beautiful: in a word, a ray of God," answering the "longings and hopes" of audiences.
This aligns with post-conciliar exhortations against neglecting confession amid "secular affairs," binding ordinaries and priests to ensure ample confessors. John Paul II reinforced priests' sacrificial mindset in Penance, acting in persona Christi to foster trust through "existential witness" to truth. Authentic portrayals thus elevate the priest not as flawed individual but as conduit of ex opere operato grace, spurring penitents toward holiness.
Contemporary observations note a perceived diminishment of priestly centrality in Church life, mirrored in film: post-Vatican II priest shortages, emptied seminaries, and reduced confession times foster narratives of sacramental erosion. Lay Eucharistic ministers sideline priests, general confessions supplant individual ones, and cremations bypass anointing—opportunities lost for portraying confession's drama. Yet scandals, while highlighting failures, paradoxically affirm the priesthood's stakes, as media fixations reveal. Films risk reinforcing this if they ignore the priest's "supernatural kind" potency in generating new life through sacraments.
The Church counters with calls for holy confessors, entrusting vocations to Mary's intercession for priests who discern chastity and perseverance. Confession remains vital for priestly sanctification and vocational discernment.
In summary, Catholic film portrayals of priesthood and confession oscillate between captivation and critique, invariably centering priests as Church icons. Faithful depictions honor their merciful ministry, distinguish person from office, and radiate divine light, urging viewers toward sacramental encounter and eternal hope.