In an audience steeped in cultural and spiritual symbolism, Pope Leo XIV received some 50 actors, actresses, filmmakers, directors, and screenwriters from around the world this Saturday in the Clementine Hall of the Apostolic Palace in the Vatican. Prominent figures such as American actress Cate Blanchett, filmmaker Spike Lee and his wife Tonya Lewis Lee, and actor Viggo Mortensen, among other artists of various nationalities, were welcomed as “pilgrims of hope” in the context of the Jubilee Year. On the occasion of the 130th anniversary of the Lumière brothers’ first public screening, the Pope reflected on cinema as a youthful and visionary art form that illuminates the human adventure and fosters hope in times of digital uncertainty and the decline of traditional movie theaters.

In his address, delivered on Saturday, November 15, 2025, Leo XIV invoked the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit, warmly greeting those present and highlighting cinema as a popular form of expression that unites entertainment and spiritual depth. “Cinema is more than a screen: it sets hope in motion,” he affirmed, recalling how moving images have evolved from mere spectacle to a tool for contemplating the grandeur and fragility of life. The event concluded with personal greetings, during which Cate Blanchett presented the Pope with a bracelet and Spike Lee with a personalized New York Knicks jersey.

The Holy Father described the cinematic experience as a sacred threshold: in the darkness of the theater, the viewer rediscovers their inner self, cultivates their gaze, and finds meaning even in pain. Faced with the proliferation of digital screens and algorithms that prioritize predictability, he defended slowness, silence, and difference as artistic values. “Beauty is not only escapism, but also invocation,” he emphasized, urging institutions to protect movie theaters as the “beating hearts” of cities.

In the context of the Jubilee Year, which invites us to journey toward hope, Leo XIV saw filmmakers as “pilgrims of the imagination” and “narrators of humanity.” Quoting Saint Paul VI—”If you are friends of true art, you are our friends”—and the pioneer D.W. Griffith, he compared the wind in the trees to the Holy Spirit, urging them to make cinema “an art of the Spirit.”

Addressing the wounds of the world—violence, poverty, wars—the Pope encouraged filmmakers not to exploit suffering, but to accompany it with authenticity. “Good cinema does not exploit suffering: it recognizes it and explores it,” he emphasized, inviting artists to be witnesses of hope, beauty, and truth. Finally, he highlighted the communal nature of filmmaking, where directors, actors, and hundreds of professionals collaborate in an act of fraternity. “May your cinema be a place of encounter, a home for those seeking meaning, a language of peace,” he concluded, imparting his blessing.

This meeting underlines the Church’s commitment to the arts, positioning cinema as an ally in promoting human dignity and collective hope.

Spanish translation of the original speech:

MEETING WITH THE WORLD OF CINEMA  SPEECH BY THE HOLY FATHER LEO XIV  Clementine Hall Saturday, November 15, 2025 [Multimedia]

In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit. Peace be with you! Dear brothers and sisters, good morning and welcome!

Cinema is a young, dreamy, and somewhat restless art form, even though it’s already a century old. These days, it celebrates its 130th anniversary, counting from that first public screening by the Lumière brothers on December 28, 1895, in Paris. Initially, cinema appeared as a play of light and shadow, meant to entertain and impress. But very soon, those visual effects were able to reveal much deeper realities, becoming an expression of the desire to contemplate and understand life, to narrate its grandeur and fragility, to interpret its yearning for the infinite.

With joy I greet you, dear friends, and with gratitude I salute what cinema represents: a popular art in the noblest sense, born for everyone and speaking to everyone. It is beautiful to recognize that when the magic lantern of cinema is lit in the darkness, the gaze of the soul is simultaneously ignited, because cinema knows how to connect what seems to be mere entertainment with the narration of the spiritual adventure of humankind. One of cinema’s most precious contributions is precisely that of helping the viewer return to themselves, to look with fresh eyes at the complexity of their own experience, to see the world anew as if for the first time, and to rediscover, in this exercise, a portion of that hope without which our existence is not complete. It comforts me to think that cinema is not just  moving pictures : it is setting hope in motion!

Entering a movie theater is like crossing a threshold. In the darkness and silence, the eye becomes attentive once more, the heart allows itself to be touched, the mind opens to what it had not yet imagined. Indeed, you know that your art requires concentration. With your works, you engage in dialogue with those who seek lightness, but also with those who carry in their hearts a disquiet, a question of meaning, of justice, of beauty. Today, we live with digital screens always on. The flow of information is constant. But cinema is much more than a simple screen: it is a crossroads of desires, memories, and questions. It is a sensitive quest where light pierces the darkness and words find silence. In the unfolding narrative, the gaze is cultivated, the imagination expands, and even pain can find meaning.

Cultural structures like cinemas and theaters are the beating hearts of our communities, contributing to their humanization. A city’s vitality stems from its cultural spaces: we must inhabit them, building relationships within them, day after day. But cinemas are experiencing a worrying decline that is drawing them away from cities and neighborhoods. And many argue that the art of cinema and the cinematic experience are in danger. I urge institutions not to resign themselves to this situation, but to cooperate in affirming the social and cultural value of this activity.

The logic of algorithms tends to repeat what “works,” but art opens us up to what is possible. Not everything has to be immediate or predictable: defend slowness when it serves a purpose, silence when it speaks, difference when it provokes. Beauty is not just escapism, but above all, invocation. Cinema, when it is authentic, doesn’t just console: it challenges. It names the questions that dwell within us and, sometimes, even the tears we didn’t know we should shed.

In this Jubilee Year, in which the Church invites us to journey toward hope, your presence from so many nations, and above all, your daily artistic work, are shining signs. For you too, like so many others who come to Rome from all corners of the world, are on a journey as pilgrims of the imagination, seekers of meaning, storytellers of hope, messengers of humanity. The path you travel is not measured in kilometers but in images, words, emotions, shared memories, and collective desires. It is a pilgrimage into the mystery of human experience, which you traverse with a penetrating gaze, capable of recognizing beauty even in the folds of pain, hope within the tragedies of violence and war.

The Church regards you with esteem, you who work with light and time, with the face and the landscape, with words and silence. Pope Saint Paul VI told you: “If you are friends of true art, you are our friends,” recalling that “this world in which we live needs beauty so as not to sink into despair” (Message to Artists at the close of the Second Vatican Council, December 8, 1965). I wish to renew that friendship, because cinema is a laboratory of hope, a place where humanity can once again look at itself and its own destiny.

Perhaps we should listen again to the words of a pioneer of cinema, the great David W. Griffith. He said: “What the modern movie lacks is beauty, the beauty of the moving wind in the trees.” How can we not think, listening to Griffith speak of the wind in the trees, of that passage from the Gospel of John: “The wind blows where it wishes, and you hear its sound, but you do not know where it comes from or where it goes. So it is with everyone who is born of the Spirit” (3:8). Dear old and new masters, make cinema an art of the Spirit.

Our time needs witnesses of hope, of beauty, of truth: you, with your artistic work, can be them. Recovering the authenticity of the image to safeguard and promote human dignity lies in the power of good cinema and of those who are its creators and protagonists. Do not be afraid to confront the wounds of the world. Violence, poverty, exile, loneliness, addiction, forgotten wars are wounds that demand to be seen and told. Great cinema does not exploit pain: it accompanies it, it explores it. This is what all great directors have done. Giving voice to the complex, contradictory, sometimes dark feelings that dwell in the human heart is an act of love. Art must not flee from the mystery of fragility: it must listen to it, it must know how to pause before it. Cinema, without being didactic, has within itself, in its authentically artistic forms, the possibility of educating the eye.

In conclusion, filmmaking is a communal act, a collaborative work in which no one can succeed alone. Everyone knows and appreciates the director’s mastery and the actors’ brilliance, but a film would be impossible without the silent dedication of hundreds of other professionals: assistants,  runners , prop masters, electricians, sound technicians, grips, makeup artists, hairstylists, costume designers,  location managers , casting directors, directors of photography and music, screenwriters, editors, special effects artists, producers… I hope I haven’t left anyone out, but there are so many! Every voice, every gesture, every skill contributes to a work that can only exist as a whole.

In an age of heightened and conflicting personalities, you show us how making a good film requires committing one’s own talents. But each person can make their unique charisma shine thanks to the gifts and qualities of those who work alongside them, in a collaborative and fraternal atmosphere. May your cinema always remain a meeting place, a home for those seeking meaning, a language of peace. May it never lose its capacity to surprise, continuing to show us even just a fragment of the mystery of God.

May the Lord bless you, your work, and your loved ones. And may He always accompany you on your creative journey, so that you may be artisans of hope. Thank you.