Amiable 'The Two Popes' feels like a real missed opportunity

The trailer for The Two Popes promises an intense clash of religious philosophies between the dogmatic Pope Benedict (Anthony Hopkins) and his comparatively more moderate successor Pope Francis (Jonathan Pryce) and for a little of its running time it is.

In fact, the most interesting scenes in this mostly two-hander movie are the ones that investigate the rivalry between the two men, but the film never makes it mind up about what it wants to be about. It's too reverent to the church to delve too deeply into the scandals of the papacy but also wants to do due diligence by referencing them (often leaning on archival footage and news clips), which only serves to make them feel like an afterthought.

What makes the lack of conviction surprising is that this film comes from Fernando Meirelles, the director of the risky and compelling classic City of God. His The Two Popes lacks all of that film's storytelling pizazz and excitement. Granted, this is a film about two soft spoken pontiffs in their 80s, but it's far too cutesy considering the fact that the church very much still is a source of controversy.

The deck of the movie is stacked early on in Francis' favor, even with the casting of the genteel Pryce (whose fine here but I couldn't help wishing his role had been played by an actual Latin actor) opposite a hammier, more strident Hopkins.

Francis' moderateness is probably a bit overstated here, and while it's admirable that the film doesn't paper over the fact that he too holds problematic views on issues like gay marriage, but then the story moves on and a viewer like me is left to wonder why they ought to root for someone who's arguably a homophobe.

This all sounds a bit harsh but this doesn't discount the fact that The Two Popes is frequently charming and a more than adequately diverting Netflix film. The production values are first rate while Pryce and Hopkins have terrific chemistry together throughout.

Still, the film starts lacking in tension about halfway through -- we know Benedict will win abdicate his duties and we know Francis will take his place -- so there's not enough there there. Even an attempt to justify Francis' self doubt only serves to make him seem more noble and endearing.

This didn't need to be an expose -- Spotlight accomplished that five years ago. But I did want something that didn't feel quite so safe and sanitized. For instance, without spoiling anything, at a critical dramatic moment the film bars us from hearing what is said. This isn't an earned moment of intimacy like we got at the end of Lost In Translation, it's more of a cop-out.

In a year where there were so many movies willing to push the genre envelope or speak to issues of gender, race, class and sexuality, this one feels like a relic of an earlier decade, where an attractive production and some solid performances were just enough.