Disclosure Day | A Powerful Testament to the Need for Faith and Film

Spielberg's latest alien flick has echoes of Dante

The quick phrase someone might use to describe the work of Spielberg is movie, or blockbuster, magic. The great American auteur has used this magic time and again to deliver tales about the moral truths of reality– that the Ark of the Covenant is not to be taken lightly, that science should ask whether it should before whether it could, and that Mark Rylance looks a little off as a CGI big friendly giant. Disclosure Day is Spielberg’s most important work insofar as it communicates most clearly his belief in the healing power of the cinematic image and his hope in the future of humanity. Alongside The Fabelmans, his latest take on the alien invasion genre may be his most personal, too. There are a few odd directorial and narrative choices, but the hits off his wild swings redeem the misses.

Cybersecurity whiz Daniel Kellner (Josh O’Connor) has proof that intelligent life exists outside of Earth and firmly believes that humanity ought to know. Noah Scanlon (Colin Firth), his former boss and the head of shadowy government contractor Wardex, believes such information is too dangerous for the public. At the same time, weather reporter Margaret Fairchild (Emily Blunt) finds herself suddenly experiencing strange phenomena after an odd encounter with a bird. These three characters all intersect as the truth of the universe threatens to come out.

Without getting into exact spoilers, the narrative heavily hinges on a sense of purpose or fate that guide the characters. What I did not expect going into the film was how theological the narrative gets. Alien powers become stand-ins for the difference between good and evil supernatural powers. One character wields the power in the form of possession while another is able to perform miracles of wisdom. The distinction is faith and love. The first wants to control the power beneath their ego and the other abandons themselves to providence. It is this distinction that is the driving force of the film.

Daniel’s girlfriend Jane (Eve Hewson) initially doubts the need to reveal the existence of aliens. She holds that it would undermine people’s belief in God, which she thinks is necessary for society even if it might not be true. Her faith is immature, and as the film states explicitly through Catholic nun Maura (Elizabeth Marvel), the real concern is her loss of faith in the power of God’s Divine Providence. The characters must learn to trust in this to accomplish their goals.

My review of Backrooms touched on some parallels with Pope Leo XIV’s Magnifica Humanitas. If that film spoke to some of the concerns there, this is greatly suffused, unintentionally although remarkably so, with the spirit of that document. Most explicitly, Disclosure Day is about “truth as a common good”, not only in the dimension of it needing to be disclosed but also in the sense that “it is deeply relational, built through bonds of trust and shared practices, as well as an honest exchange with others and with the world” (#132). It takes on how technology can be a force for good so long as it reflects the anthropology of the person, rather than the will to power. All of this takes place in the film amidst the background of impending nuclear war. At the brink of annihilation, the hope of building a civilization of love can still stand.

Disclosure Day is additionally a significant piece in Spielberg’s own ongoing struggle with cinema and the lasting effects of his parents’ divorce. In Close Encounters of the Third Kind, which this film is essentially a spiritual sequel to, the aliens represent a deeply-held truth that struggles to be realized and even then at the cost of tearing apart families. The sculptures Roy (Richard Dreyfuss) makes based on his extraterrestrial experience repeatedly fail to live up to their source. One can see Spielberg’s own creative struggles, especially with Jaws (1975), there. Disclosure Day presents a cathartic answer to that frustration in the form of a genuine hope in the capacity of humanity to seek and realize the truth. This hope may come across as maudlin to many, a reflection more on the present day than the hope itself. Can a single disclosure or revelation really save humanity? Perhaps it can (and already has). Spielberg seems to be posing this question about cinema itself, too.

Does film really have the power to save us? What is the catch then?

Spielberg and screenwriter David Koepp (Jurassic Park), who was raised Catholic, have a rich allegory here that also ties beautifully into the auteur’s career. Unfortunately, there are times where the quality of the narrative feels too secondary to the allegory. The characters are more representations of an idea than people. Colman Domingo is great as always even if his character is barely developed, as one example. Getting characters from one place to another happens a few times thanks to some disbelief-testing conveniences and cliches. There are definitely several intentionally goofy moments and maybe a couple unintentional ones. I got a general sense of a constrained budget, too. Do not expect a whole lot of action as well as a dash of hokey CGI. The greatest films of all time do manage to seamlessly blend themes and None of these elements significantly hurt the script’s great ability to build tension and emotional resonance.

And when Disclosure Day sings, it really sings. I was initially skeptical of the muted bluish color palette and there are certainly a few times where the color grading and lighting are a tad off. Nevertheless, the cinematography by Janusz Kaminski (Schindler’s List) is regularly breathtaking in its compositions and usage of reflective surfaces. The cast is likewise great, especially Emily Blunt.

One controversial element of the film that should be addressed is how it treats the aliens. If you want no spoilers about them, skip to the last paragraph. Sister Maura asserts that Genesis only says humans are the supreme beings on Earth, rather than the whole universe, which then allows for the possibility of aliens being smarter than us. It is fair to say that this goes further than some of the Church teaching on the matter. According to Catholic Answers, various saints and leaders have professed that the existence of extraterrestrial life is not incompatible with Church teaching. Pope St. John Paul II stated that “they are children of God as we are”. Statements even more extreme than the ones in the film have also circulated. St. Padre Pio allegedly said that “other beings exist on other planets who did not sin and fall as we did”, according to the article.

Dismissing the film on this ground alone is foolish in my view. Furthermore, within narrative context, it is a piece of a larger, more faithful puzzle. One character describes the aliens as “closer to God”, which again may seem controversial. But what is important is that the film is not about the aliens, it is about us. The aliens relay a truth of the universe that comes from God, not them, that says something about us that we cannot tell ourselves. To take a metaphor I alluded to before a little further, aliens are like the revelatory power of great art. It is a conduit for truth, not the truth itself.

For those of you who read my review of Backrooms or saw the movie, I would like to briefly mention several significant parallels between the two films. Pay attention to the usage of a childhood house in both and the themes of repetition and transcendence. This is in addition to both tapping into the current cultural moment around conspiracy theories, government coverups, and clandestine contractors.

If Kane Parsons’ horror movie is the Inferno, this is the Paradiso.

“Paradiso, Canto 34” by Gustave Doré

In the former, the past and our own fantasies surrounding it become a prison. In the latter, the past when taken up properly as a call to present action becomes the pathway towards transcendence. They each represent the good and bad sides of human ingenuity and creativity.

In today’s climate of nihilism and despair, a passionate argument in favor of hope and faith, even if done a little clumsily, is a welcome sight. Art matters, love matters, life matters. Only when we learn to accept the mystery of life and the grace of God can we know our place in the universe. As Pope Leo XIV puts it:

Herein lies the radical departure from Promethean dreams: what saves humanity is not enhanced self-sufficiency, but a relationship that liberates, a communion that transforms (#128).