Two Popes, two Soldiers, two films to make a point of seeing

Historically, having two popes at the same time has tended to be a matter of conflict and bitterness. It happened between 1378 and 1417, when two men – and from 1410 three – all claimed to be the legitimate Pope and excommunicated the others.

So it’s curious to be living in a period in which there are, once more, two Popes at the same time. On this occasion, there is little bitterness and no conflict.

Jonathan Pryce as Cardinal Bergoglio, Anthony Hopkins as Benedict XVI

Perhaps Netflix felt that it was in the keeping of the spirit of Christmas to release its film The Two Popes in the run up to that great Christian festival. It is based around the moment in 2013 when the then Pope Benedict XVI is replaced, although still alive, by Pope Francis. It wasn’t the first time a Pope had resigned but it was the first in six centuries.

The film starts earlier, with Cardinal Bergoglio, the future Pope Francis, deciding to travel to visit Pope Benedict in Rome to press his resignation as Archbishop of Buenos Aires. Strangely, he has no sooner bought his air ticket than Begoglio receives a summons from Benedict to come and see him. This neatly sets an atmosphere in which we feel that forces beyond the mere will of man are at work.

The key sequence of the film is a series of discussions between the two men in which they confront their views on the nature and role of the Catholic Church. Do you know the comedy series Yes, Minister and Yes, Prime Minister? If not, you should watch an episode or two (if you only see one, make it A Victory for Democracy, from season 1 of Yes, Prime Minister). The curious aspect of the series is that they are principally concerned with the relationship between three middle-aged, white men; there is no sex and no violence; but they produce some of the funniest and most effective TV comedy I have ever seen.

There is considerably less comedy in The Two Popes (though it has some wonderful funny moments). Like Yes, Prime Minister, however, it focuses on old, white men, brilliantly played by two outstanding Welsh actors, Anthony Hopkins and Jonathan Pryce, who swap reflections on themselves and their lives in a strangely gripping piece of cinema.

At the core is whether Benedict even has the right to step down, and whether Bergoglio can take over. The problem with Bergoglio is that he played a most unclear role in the dirty war in Argentina, when a military dictatorship was ruthlessly cracking down on its opponents. Torture and assassination were among its weapons of choice, and in failing to stand by two priests, Bergoglio may even have been complicit in their mistreatment. He repeatedly presents himself as a sinner, and he is chiefly thinking of this murky period in his past. But does that sin rule him out from becoming Pope or, on the contrary, make him all the more qualified to lead a Church whose main purpose is to deal with men and their sins?

It’s a fascinating film using a beautifully light touch to deal with some of the deepest questions that confront humanity.

If you have the time, it would also be worth reading the tie-in book for the film. Also called The Two Popes, it is by Anthony McCarten who wrote the film’s screenplay. It gives a more factual account of the events behind the film, making it clear, for instance, that the great conversation between the two central characters, vital for the drama of the film and truthfully conveying the conflicts between them and also within them, never actually happened.

Geroge MacKay and Dean-Charles Chapman set out on their epic mission

Another great film recently released is 1917. It is brilliantly directed by Sam Mendes and based at least in part on a fragment he heard from his grandfather. It tells the story of two young soldiers given a challenging assignment in the British sector of the First World War Western Front, to carry a message across territory recently vacated by German forces (or possibly not) to a unit which, without it, might launch an assault that would lead to its destruction in a carefully prepared German trap.

Sam Mendes uses long takes, giving the impression that the film has been shot in a single take, to drive the action forward with sustained intensity. It recounts just twenty-four hours of time. That’s the ‘unity of time’ of classical theatre, and it has a powerful focusing effect on the action. That is accentuated by the unrelenting concentration on the messengers, excellently played by George MacKay and Dean-Charles Chapman, in their race against the clock.

It isn’t by any means a standard First World War film. There is violence, but it is limited and certainly not gratuitous. Much of the action takes place outside the trenches, and even when inside, it is mostly travelling along them, the journey being the central action of the film as a whole. Above all, it is a classic epic, of a mission undertaken against terrible obstacles. As well as having many powerfully poignant moments, it is breathlessly compelling from beginning to end.

Two fine films. And one fine book. All worth the time they take.

The four-stage strategy for dodging a bullet

In ‘A Victory for Democracy’, one of my favourite episodes of that excellent series from the eighties, Yes Prime Minister, Sir Humphrey Appleby, Cabinet Secretary, and Sir Richard Wharton, Permanent Secretary at the Foreign Office, outline the standard Foreign Office response in a time of crisis. 

This takes the form of a ‘four-stage strategy’.

In stage one we say nothing is going to happen.

In stage two, we say something may be going to happen, but we should do nothing about it.

In stage three, we say that maybe we should do something about it, but there's nothing we can do.

In stage four, we say maybe there was something we could have done, but it's too late now.

Donald Pickering as Wharton and Nigel Hawthorne as Appleby
explaining the Foreign Office Four-stage Strategy

I’ve always found this one of the best pieces of writing in the series, a hard-hitting satire on British politics, cynical but somehow believable.

What makes it believable is that it’s a great way for people who are more comfortable sitting on a fence to avoid being forced off it. That’s happening right now in Britain. Just look at the top of the Labour Party, over the question of Brexit. The top of the party is made up of lifelong Eurosceptics, almost certainly in favour of Brexit, but who don’t dare say so. After all, they lead a party that is massively anti-Brexit, to the tune of nearly 90% of the members. These leaders claim to want to give power over policy back to the membership, so they can hardly admit to wanting to override their wishes on this key question of our time.

So instead they just try to avoid taking a position. Their resolution is beginning to crack, with two close Corbyn allies, the trade union leader Len McCluskey and the MP John McDonnell, both saying that any new referendum on the EU should exclude the option of remaining a member. Even so, they would rather not have to say openly that they back Brexit.

What this does for their claim also to represent a new, refreshing and honest approach to politics I leave it to you to judge.

Honest or not, they need a way out of their conundrum. I humbly submit that they are, in fact, following their own four-stage strategy.

Let them to allow nature to imitate art and adopt a four-stage strategy of their own. Keir Starmer, the Party's Brexit spokesman, has come up with six tests for any Brexit deal the government negotiates. He’s made it clear that they will not back any deal that does not meet those tests.

Let’s leave aside for now the minor objection that it’s not quite clear what ‘not backing’ a deal means. Will they propose an alternative? No one has said yet.

The tests includes this one:

2. Does it deliver the “exact same benefits” as we currently have as members of the Single Market and Customs Union?

I’ve quoted it as it always appears, with quotation marks around “exact same benefits”. What’s that about? Quotation marks usually suggest that the statement within them is open to suspicion. So are we saying that we don’t really mean exactly the same benefits?

Because if we do mean exactly the same, we already know that no deal the EU will accept can meet that test. The EU has been absolutely unambiguous on the subject: the only way to enjoy the exact same benefits as conferred by membership is by remaining a member.

Maybe that’s why the leadership doesn’t want to be drawn on what it would propose as a deal that would meet its tests. Because the only realistic proposal would be to remain in the EU. That’s hardly a position Eurosceptics can adopt.

What they may therefore want is that Theresa May comes up with a disastrously bad deal so late that Britain is forced out on lousy terms, at which point the government falls and Labour wins the the general election that follows. That way Jeremy Corbyn, John McDonnell and co get to form a government without ever having to address the thorny issue of Brexit, because it’s already done.

Without their ever having to get off the fence.

Smart, isn’t it? They could then pursue the radical agenda of massive public investment and job creation that they propose. The only circle they would still have to square is how they could fund such a programme after the British economy has tanked following Brexit. They may not yet have cottoned on to the fact that far from creating new jobs, in government they would be spending all their time minimising the job losses Brexit will entail.

Ignorance is bliss. They’re clearly enjoying their moment of denial. So, in the meantime, they gaily pursue this four-stage strategy:

In stage one, we say we have our six tests and we will not support any Brexit deal that doesn’t pass them.

In stage two, we say this deal may not pass the six tests but we should do nothing about it for the moment.

In stage three, we say that maybe we should actually propose a deal that passes the six tests, but since we’re not in government, there’s no point so there’s nothing we can do.

In stage four, we say maybe there was something we could have done even in opposition, but it’s too late now that Brexit has already happened.

Most amusing. If only it weren’t for the victims who’ll be left picking up the pieces for the next generation or two.