The world holds its breath when a pope steps down or dies, watching the Sistine Chapel chimney in anticipation of that recognizable puff of white smoke. It is one of those uncommon, enigmatic customs that feels archaic and dramatic. There is something sacred, almost secretive, about the entire process, and most people are not really aware of what goes on behind those tightly closed doors.
After receiving praise from critics for his gripping and eerie adaptation of All Quiet on the Western Front, Edward Berger takes a different approach in Conclave, substituting the heavy robes and quiet hallways of the Catholic Church for the blood and mud of World War I. He is participating in one of the world’s most covert and politically sensitive rites this time.
The film, based on Robert Harris’s 2016 novel, begins with the Pope’s death, which prepares the audience for a crucial, secret election. Enter Cardinal Lawrence, who is entrusted with presiding over the conclave (a meeting of cardinals from around the world to select the next Holy Father), played with quiet intensity by Ralph Fiennes.
It is not a quiet prayer circle, however. During the vote, it soon becomes evident that obtaining the necessary two-thirds majority is not as simple as it seems. Everyone seems to have something to hide, long-standing resentments surface, and personal ideologies clash. Under the watchful eye of God (and, let us face it, the world’s media), what should be a sacred process becomes a tense, slow-burning political thriller in which faith, power, and human fallibility collide.
Each front-runner for the Pope has vastly different baggage and beliefs and comes from various backgrounds. Cardinal Bellini, portrayed by Stanley Tucci with slick charm, is at the progressive end of the spectrum. He is considered the liberal favorite and has the quiet support of Cardinal Lawrence.
However, there are complications associated with even that alliance. Bellini is unsure whether he is genuinely interested in the position for the right reasons or if he is trying to prevent the more conservative candidates from taking over. His internal conflict adds a subtle but palpable tension; he is a man who could lead, but maybe not one who should.
Cardinal Tedesco, the film’s unrepentant conservative hardliner, comes next. He is a devout traditionalist with extremely alarming beliefs. He is bigoted, patriotic, and adamant that the Church’s support of interfaith discussion is the cause of all evil in the contemporary world. He is the type of person who, whenever he speaks, makes you shiver.
Cardinal Tremblay keeps his cards to himself and is in the ideological middle. However, a shadow also hangs over him; rumors circulate about his last, private chat with the late Pope, which may reveal a secret that could tip the scales.
Then there is Cardinal Adeyemi, a strong and composed figure who symbolizes the potential for the first African Pope in Church history. However, his ascent is not without challenges; aspects of his past could reappear at the most inconvenient time.
Cardinal Lawrence himself is not entirely out of the running despite everything. A few conclave members discreetly support him despite his religious struggles, most notably Cardinal Benitez, a cardinal “in pectore” secretly appointed by the late Pope while serving in Afghanistan. Conclave feels more like a high-stakes chess game with worldwide ramifications than a religious ceremony because of these layers of ambition, uncertainty, and personal history.
Conclave seems like a 2024-specific film. It speaks directly to our times, particularly regarding the Catholic Church, which is still under close international scrutiny. The Church is at a corner in its civilization after decades of ignoring issues of sexual abuse and preventing social instability. It tips into it, showing the conflict between the contemporary world and the senior guard behind those involved Vatican partitions.
Conclave appears to be talking straight to The Two Popes, an executed drama by Fernando Meirelles that expected the personal, peaceful handover of control from the ultra-conservative Pope Benedict XVI to the more understanding and developed Pope Francis. With Anthony Hopkins and Jonathan Pryce at its core, that movie offered us a profoundly human perspective on what transpires when tradition and change attempt to coexist.
In contrast, Conclave has a rawer, more urgent vibe, as if the stakes are even higher now. It raises the question of how a long-standing and inflexible organization like the Catholic Church can adapt to a society that is becoming more accepting of equality, openness, and tolerance. It is now a complete identity crisis rather than a theological conundrum.
At the middle of an artistic and romantic range that risks destroying the Church’s grip on ethical and spiritual leadership, this is where Conclave actually calls running. Selecting the following Pope is no longer the most significant problem; the Church’s power to take its bitter inner walls is again at stake. The views over conservative versus liberal deals are reflected in the cover. Beyond that, things become murkier. Under those red robes, there are rumors of bribery, transgressions, and ambition. Despite their ceremonial and religious observance, these cardinals are painfully, distinctly human.
Moreover, humanity has all the usual imperfections. A few are engaging in power struggles. Some are clinging to antiquated beliefs, while others are perilously close to joining the growing far-right movement. Not only is it unsettling, but it also feels like a warning that some of the most well-liked candidates in the movie resort to fascist rhetoric.
Given the impending 2024 U.S. presidential election, it is impossible to avoid drawing comparisons to the current political environment. Because it is closely tied to current affairs, the movie may become too on-the-nose and quickly become dated. Its momentum and impact, however, cannot be denied. Conclave is fundamentally about whether organizations like the Church can adapt or fail in a rapidly changing world, not just about the individuals in charge of them.
The movie begins with a silent but significant scene: As if clinging to something already lost, Cardinal Lawrence, exhausted and overcome with emotion, stands over the Pope’s body and whispers prayers. From his deep, deliberate breathing, we can infer that he is worn out, if not broken, by the stress of it all. The moment is brutally honest but reverent.
It is just protocol, but it feels startlingly mechanical when the Pope’s ring, a representation of spiritual strength, is abruptly yanked off his icy, wrinkly finger and smashed. His body is then hurled around in the back of a van on its way to the morgue after being zipped into a bag. It is unrefined, unvarnished, and surprisingly realistic.
Berger focuses on their humanity. These are older men with back pain, habits, and doubts. That feeling of reduced humanity only intensifies after the conclave starts and the cardinals are confined inside the Vatican: no crowds, no laypeople, no outside world. A few nuns and the cardinals are the only ones moving through the dimly lit worship halls.
And inside those hallowed walls? A surprisingly commonplace world: printers jamming at the worst possible times, phones buzzing with encrypted messages, Keurig machines brewing bland coffee, cardinals puffing on e-cigarettes like stressed-out office workers, and smoke breaks in peaceful courtyards. These little but surprisingly funny elements act as a welcome recreation from the movie’s more severe pieces while simultaneously emphasizing that these so-called spiritual titans are finally only people trying to create unbelievable findings with public help.
As Cardinal Lawrence, a man thrust into one of the most significant moments of his life and unraveling at the seams, Fiennes gives what may be his best performance since The Grand Budapest Hotel. Lawrence is a flawed human being rife with uncertainty who is experiencing a crisis of faith at the exact moment when the conclave is bearing down on him. Moreover, Fiennes portrays internal conflict with such subtlety and restraint that it is difficult to turn away.
He does not get overly dramatic or extravagant unless necessary, making his performance captivating. Most of the time, he is this cool-headed man attempting to keep everything together while negotiating a minefield of rivalry and ambition among his fellow cardinals. However, the impact is even more intense when those fissures eventually appear and the emotion seeps through that calm exterior.
Despite being surrounded by people who seem more concerned with power than purpose, he attempts to act morally with gentleness and a quiet urgency. As the reluctant investigator in a sacred home full of secrets, Fiennes effectively serves as the movie’s moral compass, and he does so with grace and compassion.
As Cardinal Bellini, a character who balances political calculation with personal conviction, Tucci gives one of his best performances. Bellini is complex, human, and flawed. Tucci portrays him with the ideal balance of warmth and sourness, portraying a man who wants to advance the Church but cannot relinquish his goals. Yes, he has strong beliefs, but also wants to win, or at least avoid the worst-case situation. Under the surface, there is a simmering tension between compromise and hope.
His complex relationship with Cardinal Lawrence is what really gives it emotional weight. The two, if not friends, are initially allied because they want to see the Church change. Bellini, however, begins to distance himself from Lawrence as he grows more devoted to justice and truth, even at the expense of everything.
He is the type of contemporary liberal who, in dire circumstances, is prepared to accept the “lesser of two evils,” a compromise that reflects many of the political realities of our day. Tucci perfectly captures that inner struggle: the charm, conviction, and subdued disappointment of a man with a clear vision of the future but not sure he dares to take the challenging route.
Conclave has an absolutely amazing ensemble cast. Playing flawed cardinals who each contribute to the film’s fervor in their own unique ways (whether via ambition, manipulation, or the burden of their pasts), John Lithgow, Lucian Msamati, and Sergio Castellitto all give their parts genuine weight and complexity. In the broader drama of the conclave, they all seem like ticking time bombs.
In a more minor but noteworthy role, Isabella Rossellini contributes a firm yet gentle presence as a stubborn Church sister. Even though she does not have much screen time, she commands it whenever she is on it. This grounded, maternal energy reminds us that compassion is still present within these sacred walls.
However, most surprisingly, newcomer Carlos Diehz ends up taking center stage. His quiet intensity as Cardinal Benitez, a “cardinal in pectore” appointed in secret, contrasts sharply with those around him who are more power-hungry. His performance is tender yet impactful, with an authentic sense of faith.
Benitez reminds Lawrence and the audience of what faith is “supposed” to look like in a world full of cynics and schemers: modest, kind, and selfless devotion. He becomes the narrative’s emotional and spiritual compass, providing a window into the Church as a wellspring of genuine meaning and hope. Moreover, that is where Conclave excels; it highlights the valuable elements.
Screenwriter Peter Straughan’s adaptation is succinct and practical; it does not waste any time. Every line is intentional, every scene has a purpose. However, there are times when that sharpness comes at a price. Even though they are delivered with weight and are emotionally charged, some passionate speeches come across as overly well-written and polished. They do not derail anything or go against the plot, but sometimes they take away from the film’s already excellent visuals.
Because Conclave is genuinely a sight to behold. It is one of those movies you could watch on mute and still feel the emotion and tension from the screen. Pages of dialogue can never convey the same message as a single cardinal strolling through an empty courtyard or a few dimly lit chairs positioned in the center of a large, dark chamber. In those silent, intense moments, the actual storytelling comes to life.
With cinematographer Stéphane Fontaine, Berger creates a visually arresting and evocative experience. Every shadow seems to be concealing something, and every frame has a sense of purpose. The film stays with you long after the credits have rolled because of its unique combination of tension and simplicity.
One of the film’s most notable accomplishments is unquestionably Suzie Davies’ production design. She creates a holy and human world that is spacious and cramped. With all the expected marble floors, elaborate frescoes, and gold accents, the interiors are breathtaking, but they are never merely beautiful for their own sake. They have a function. These lovely areas are frequently juxtaposed with dimly lit rooms, confined passageways, and sterile, prison-like corridors that serve as a reminder of how lonely this world can be.
The location alternates between feeling like a palace, a maze, or even a cell. The characters’ dynamic conditions are mirrored in this tug-of-war between brilliance and detention, especially for the cardinals pulled between politics and religion. Conclave‘s graphic vocabulary is always complete and profoundly felt. It vigorously affects the movie’s tenor and spirit, combining perfectly with the actors’ versions to show the real item in a more serious, more engaging sense.
One of the year’s most incredible films, Conclave, changes the election of a new pope into a suspenseful nail-biter with biting jovial complaint. The grim facts of modern life greatly influence the choice of one of the most influential people on the planet, although the cardinals are sheltered and unaware of the misery in the world. It asks, “What kind of world do we want to live in?” while holding up a mirror, despite its heavy dramatization. A tolerant, open global community, or a combative, polarizing society?
References
- Allen, J. L. (2002). Conclave: The Politics, Personalities, and Process of the Next Papal Election. Doubleday.
- Berger, E. (Director). (2024). Conclave [Film]. House Productions; FilmNation Entertainment.
- Bradshaw, P. (2024). Conclave Review – Ralph Fiennes Shines as Papal Election Results in High-Camp Gripper. The Guardian.
- Harris, R. (2016). Conclave. Alfred A. Knopf.
- Meirelles, F. (Director). (2019). The Two Popes [Film]. Netflix.
- Mills, P. (2025). Bafta Upsets and Shared Spoils: “Conclave” and “The Brutalist” Lead, While Favorites Stumble. MEMORABLE TV.
- Pope John Paul II. (1996). Universi Dominici Gregis. Libreria Editrice Vaticana.
- Reese, T. J. (1998). Inside the Vatican: The Politics and Organization of the Catholic Church. Harvard University Press.
- Straughan, P. (Screenwriter). (2024). Conclave [Screenplay adaptation]. Based on Robert Harris’ novel.
- Weigel, G. (2010). The End and the Beginning: Pope John Paul II—The Victory of Freedom, the Last Years, the Legacy. Image.
Yes! I found the film not only well-done in every way, but unexpectedly moving.
That’s awesome to hear! Glad it resonated with you too!