By T N Ashok
The New Pope, a sequel to the Young Pope, is streaming on Netflix, I sat down to watch and realised from its sharp, elevated and intellectual screen play, the serial was not about the Pope or the Catholic church, but more about the world we live in today dominated by the likes of Trump who assert their military and political power over the world and also within America.
The messaging is very clear — The young pope was very authoritarian in his views and not in tune with the world with the proverbial Christian-Islam faith clash and his martial and aggressive attitude had sad repercussions in the death of a cardinal and traumatised group of children. The young pope relents. He has risen from coma and tried to assert the power of catholicism while the new pope, a British Theologian, with no self esteem, takes the middle path of rapprochement to resolve problems within the Vatican and outside and emerges a popular one.
The Young Pope, first disconnected from the world, begins to connect after seeing the model of the British Theologian John Paul 111 ( John Malkovich in one of his best roles) The Young Pope is American Pius XIII played by Jude law, who is also the producer of the serial.
This is no ordinary serial. The photography is brilliant bringing out the majesty of the Vatican and at the same time telling inside it its a prison where cardinals are trapped in an outdated world. The writing is brilliant loaded with punches on ego, humility, violence , peace and vanity and down to earth approach and a live in ivory tower disconnected with people connect to understand and resolve problems.
Its very contemporary reflecting on the US attitude from WMD to Nuclear capability of Iran all understated, but the reference is obvious.
The contrast is absolute and brutal. The Young Pope is an American from a country that is the universal policeman of the world that likes to dominate others. The New Pope is a Britsher who hails from a land dominated by protestants, the lone catholic, struggling with himself, his identity
The Italian director Paolo Sorrentino’s The New Pope is far more than a sequel to The Young Pope. It is a profound theological and political drama that explores one of humanity’s oldest questions: how should faith respond when the world is engulfed by violence, extremism and uncertainty?
The series begins with an extraordinary crisis. Pope Pius XIII (Jude Law), the enigmatic American pontiff whose uncompromising conservatism and mystical charisma transformed the Catholic Church, lies in a coma. The Vatican is suddenly without its spiritual anchor. Cardinals, bishops and power brokers begin manoeuvring in one of history’s oldest institutions, exposing the eternal tension between divine calling and human ambition.
The succession battle that follows is not merely about choosing another pope. It becomes an examination of whether the Church should retreat into rigid orthodoxy or embrace compassion and moderation in an increasingly divided world.
Into this vacuum steps Sir John Brannox, played magnificently by John Malkovich, who becomes Pope John Paul III. Unlike the youthful, mysterious and often authoritarian Pius XIII, Brannox is cultured, introspective, self-doubting and deeply human. He openly describes himself as “fragile porcelain”—a remarkably honest admission from a man occupying perhaps the world’s most powerful spiritual office. That single metaphor defines his papacy.
Unlike leaders who project certainty, John Paul III accepts vulnerability. He understands that weakness acknowledged is often stronger than arrogance disguised as conviction. His humility stands in sharp contrast to the absolutism increasingly visible in global politics, where many leaders equate strength with aggression and compromise with surrender.
Sorrentino presents two entirely different models of leadership. Pius XIII governs through mystery. His silence becomes authority. His distance creates devotion. His unpredictability inspires fear and fascination. John Paul III governs through empathy. He listens more than he commands. He doubts before he decides. He seeks consensus rather than domination.
Neither pope is portrayed as perfect. Both carry deep emotional wounds. Both struggle with loneliness. Both question God’s intentions. Together they become two halves of a complete spiritual leader. One represents certainty. The other represents compassion.. Only together do they reveal the complexity of faith.
One of the series’ most powerful symbols occurs when the breathing of the comatose Pius XIII is broadcast live over Vatican Radio. Nothing dramatic happens. There is no sermon, no proclamation, no miracle. Only breathing. Yet millions listen. Sorrentino transforms the simplest human act into sacred symbolism.
Breath is life. Breath is hope. Breath becomes prayer. The world listens not to words but to existence itself. In an era saturated with social media outrage, propaganda and political slogans, the sound of breathing reminds humanity that before ideology comes life itself.
The symbolism echoes the Biblical image of God breathing life into Adam. It also suggests that faith sometimes survives not through grand declarations but through quiet endurance.
Perhaps the most disturbing episodes involve the violence at Lourdes and Voliviento, where religious gatherings become targets of terrorism. Pilgrimage sites, traditionally symbols of healing and hope, are transformed into theatres of fear. ( shades of the massacre in Pahalgam by the LeT splinter group)
Sorrentino deliberately refuses to simplify terrorism into a clash between religions. Instead, he exposes extremism as a corruption of faith.
The murder of Don Antonio is among the series’ most devastating moments. Radical Catholics disguise themselves as Islamic terrorists, deliberately manipulating public opinion and fuelling hatred against Muslims. This shocking revelation carries profound contemporary relevance.
For decades, extremist violence has often been interpreted through simplistic religious labels. Yet The New Pope argues that fanaticism frequently wears masks. Violence committed in God’s name may actually serve political agendas, ideological hatred or personal vengeance rather than genuine religious belief.
The message could not be clearer. Terrorism has no authentic religion. Those who murder innocents while invoking God betray the very faith they claim to defend.
This distinction becomes especially significant in a post-9/11 world shaped by Al-Qaeda, ISIS and countless acts of extremist violence.
Sorrentino carefully avoids condemning Islam itself. Instead, he separates Islam from those who exploit it. The overwhelming majority of Muslims reject terrorism just as the overwhelming majority of Christians reject violence committed in Christianity’s name. The series therefore becomes not anti-Islam but anti-fanaticism.
Its true target is extremism in every religious tradition. Another unforgettable sequence concerns Father Antonio and six kidnapped children whose lives become bargaining chips in a wider ideological conflict.
Words become weapons. Religious rhetoric acquires lethal consequences. Pius XIII’s uncompromising theology, delivered indirectly through John Paul III, unintentionally escalates tensions. Speeches designed to defend faith instead inflame extremists determined to exploit every provocation.
Sorrentino poses an uncomfortable question. Can even morally justified words produce tragic consequences? The answer is painfully complex. The series never blames faith itself.
Instead, it warns that religious leaders bear enormous responsibility because every public statement may be interpreted, distorted and weaponised by those seeking violence. This theme resonates far beyond the Vatican.
Political speeches. Nationalist slogans. Religious sermons. Television debates. Social media campaigns. All possess the capacity either to calm societies or ignite hatred.
Leadership, therefore, is measured not merely by conviction but by wisdom. Perhaps the greatest transformation occurs when Pius XIII awakens from his coma. His experience has changed him. The once uncompromising pope begins embracing moderation. He recognises that the middle path is not weakness but wisdom.
It is one of the series’ most profound theological insights. Throughout history, religions have often oscillated between rigid orthodoxy and unrestricted liberalism. Sorrentino suggests that truth frequently lies between these extremes.
The middle path preserves principles while practising compassion. It defends belief without demonising unbelievers. It inspires devotion without encouraging fanaticism. This evolution mirrors the broader human condition.
People mature. Institutions evolve. Faith deepens. Even saints learn humility. The decision to make Pius XIII an American pope and John Paul III a British pope is equally significant.
America represents the twenty-first century’s dominant global power—confident, influential and missionary in outlook. Britain, by contrast, is a nation where Catholics remain a historical minority following centuries of Protestant dominance.
John Paul III therefore embodies the perspective of someone accustomed to living as a minority rather than exercising unquestioned authority. His leadership naturally becomes more conciliatory. He understands coexistence. He appreciates dialogue. He values restraint.
Sorrentino may be suggesting that the future Church requires not imperial certainty but minority wisdom—the ability to persuade rather than command. This becomes particularly relevant as Christianity increasingly shifts from Europe toward Africa, Asia and Latin America, where diverse cultures require dialogue rather than domination.
Visually, The New Pope remains one of television’s greatest artistic achievements. Its stunning cinematography transforms the Vatican into both palace and prison.
Silence becomes dialogue. Architecture becomes theology. Music becomes prayer. Every frame carries symbolic meaning. Yet beneath the visual splendour lies a deeply human story.
Every character seeks forgiveness. Every leader confronts loneliness. Every believer struggles with doubt. The series ultimately argues that uncertainty is not the enemy of faith but one of its essential ingredients.
Perhaps that explains why John Paul III’s description of himself as fragile porcelain remains unforgettable. Porcelain appears delicate. Yet it survives centuries. It can crack. It can be repaired. Its imperfections often make it more beautiful.
Likewise, faith survives not because believers are perfect but because they continue believing despite imperfection. In today’s fractured world—still haunted by the legacy of Al-Qaeda, ISIS, sectarian violence and rising religious polarisation—The New Pope feels remarkably contemporary.
Its central message extends beyond Catholicism. Every religion faces the same choice. Will it become an instrument of division or reconciliation? Will it cultivate fear or hope? Will leaders exploit belief for power or use power to serve belief?
Sorrentino offers no easy answers. Instead, he leaves viewers with two unforgettable popes standing side by side. One embodies conviction. The other embodies compassion. Together they demonstrate that authentic faith requires both.
In the end, The New Pope is not about who occupies the Chair of St. Peter. It is about the soul of humanity itself. The New Pope relinquishes his authority and power finding that he is serving no purpose and asks Pius X111 to show himself to the world, which he does, as a changed man. John Paul 111 retires to his magnificent estate in England to be united with his lady communications director who was full of awe for him during his pappacy.
Its enduring message is simple yet profound: religions do not create terrorists; extremists corrupt religions. The answer to fanaticism is neither surrender nor retaliation, but moral courage tempered by humility.
Between absolutism and relativism lies the middle path—one of mercy, dialogue and hope. It is this path that both Pius XIII and John Paul III finally embrace, offering not only a vision for the Catholic Church but also a timeless lesson for a fragile world desperately searching for peace.
Even though the serial is about Catholicism and its relevance in a fractured world today dominated by super powers, it has relevance for India too which has turned from religious tolerance clothed under the garb of secularism to resurgence of the Hindu identity , sometimes leading to intolerance and violence.. Indian viewers can also take proper lessons from this thought provoking Netflix serial. (IPA Service)
