Saints and Movies: A Man for all Seasons
The Glorious End of Saint Thomas More or the Price of Loyalty
An Impossible Mission: to Play the Role of a Saint
One of the major challenges that any art creator faces relates to the difficulty of “imitating,” of representing sanctity. Usually, as we see in the famous sculpture The Ecstasy of Saint Teresa by Gian Lorenzo Bernini (1598–1680),1 the artist depicts in a very corporeal and external manner the indescribable realities of mystical life. Typically, he does not personally know how an ecstasy is or what it concretely means to be a saint. Bernini had no experience comparable to the “transverberation” of Saint Teresa of Ávila (1515–1582).
For a similar reason, actors and actresses who portray saints find themselves in a difficult situation. How can they imitate individuals in communion with God, which is hard for us ordinary people to understand? The success of a film about the life of a saint depends entirely on the answer to this question. And those cinematic creations that have convincingly portrayed the lights and shadows of sanctity are rare. One such creation, a truly gem, is A Man for All Seasons (1966) by Fred Zinnemann. Although each of us can imagine Saint Thomas More (1478–1535) based on preserved sources, Paul Scofield’s brilliant performance offers us a plausible portrait of the author of Utopia.
Now, putting aside the issue of interpretation, I will insist on the essential message of the discussed film. A message that hides one of the most dramatic issues humanity has faced since the dawn of history. If we were to say that there is no other issue as difficult as this one, I believe we would not be wrong. What I would add concerns not so much its importance as its inevitability: for we all face it right now, in this hour of history. It is about what we could call the “test of fidelity.”
Infidelity in Eden
Adam and Eve received absolutely free that marvelous place, full of all wonders, called Eden. As Saint Basil the Great once said, they had everything “ready-made:” immortality, subtle and radiant bodies impassible to suffering, the subjection of all creatures, “supplies” in endless abundance under the best imaginable conditions. The beauty of the graces that adorned them would have made any flower and any living being on the face of the earth pale in comparison. In a word, they had everything. The only thing required of them was a test.
Not just any test: a test of fidelity. God asked them for that one thing they should have obeyed without any doubt, without any hesitation. He asked for complete filial trust. The trust of a child in his father, in his mother. The demonic serpent attacked precisely this: trust in God. He did so by sowing doubt about the divine command in Eve’s heart: “Why hath God commanded you, that you should not eat of every tree of paradise?” (Genesis 3:1). What followed, we know. We all live and suffer fully from the consequences of that unfortunate act called “original sin.”
Throughout our entire lives, trust in God is tested countless times. Even when we make the sign of the Holy Cross before starting the car, or conversely, when we omit this, we face such an implicit test of trust. Some of these “tests” are small and have no serious consequences. Others can be almost as significant as the trial of Adam and Eve in Paradise. Small or large, however, they always relate to God, the unique source of any authority, any power—in Heaven and on Earth.
Great Functions, Great Challenges—and the Best Dialogue Ever Seen in A Movie
When it involves functions whose authority clearly derives from divine authority, such as those of a priest, bishop, Pope, or King, trust can be severely tested. A Man for All Seasons is a film that narrates the challenge to which Saint Thomas More is subjected by that King to whom he had sworn unwavering loyalty: Henry VIII.
The film contains extraordinary scenes. When I watch them, I am amazed at the resemblance to our own situation under the pontificate of Pope Francis. One of the most terrible is the one where, after taking the gold chain indicating the position of the King’s chancellor, the Duke of Norfolk has a friendly discussion with his former friend:
NORFOLK (curtly): All right Thomas, make me understand. Because I tell you now – to me this looks like cowardice!
MORE (a bit ruffled): All right, I will. This isn’t ‘reformation,’ this is war against the Church. Our King, has declared war on the Pope because the Pope will not declare that the Queen is not his wife.
NORFOLK: And is she?
MORE looks at him, laughs, pats his arm.
NORFOLK shakes off his hand and repeats: Is she?
MORE arrests him. Makes a display of looking about, conspiratorial.
MORE: Have I your word that what we say here is between us two?
NORFOLK (impatient): Very well.
MORE: And if the King should command you to repeat what I may say?
NORFOLK: I should keep my word to you!
MORE: Then what has become of your oath of obedience to the King?
NORFOLK sorts this out. Then, astounded:
NORFOLK: You lay traps for me!
MORE: No, I show you the times.2
This last line—in my opinion, one of the best in the entire history of cinematography—can be perfectly applied to our time. I wonder who the one is who “shows us the times.”
Aren’t we all, like Saint Thomas More, tested in trust? And not just trust in a king, but trust in the hierarchy of the Church and in the Vicar of Jesus Christ—the Pope. Confronted with such a situation, I believe we can say that we experience the same turmoil as Saint Thomas More, placed in the position of violating the oath of loyalty to the King. This is highlighted by the script a little later when, after trying to explain to the Duke of Norfolk the reasons for his resistance, he is rebuked:
“Perfectly. Why d’you insult me with this lawyer’s chatter?” The Saint’s reply shows a full awareness of his own limits: “Because I am afraid.” Yes, he was afraid of making a mistake, of being wrong. And certainly, he was afraid of the horror of the entire situation. Who can be sure he is capable of facing martyrdom? And how to break an oath to the King, whose chancellor was he? After his canonization, we now know with certainty that the Holy Spirit was guiding him. But did Saint Thomas More know this while he was “under fire”?
The way the test of fidelity is illustrated in A Man for All Seasons is one of the most impressive. Everything unfolds gradually, little by little. At first, King Henry VIII seeks to gain his chancellor’s support by honoring him with a visit. Then gradually, slowly, the chains begin to tighten. The degradation of the saint’s situation is heartbreaking. I cannot revisit the scene where he informs his servants that he can no longer keep them in his service without tears in my eyes. The prudence with which he seeks to protect those who thought themselves courageous is worthy of a true practitioner of virtues. Saint Thomas remains silent, prays, and hopes until the last moment for a salvific solution. A solution that, apparently, never comes.
Great Movies, Burning Prayers
In the end, constrained by circumstances, already arrested, he prepares for the ultimate trial. Right before the trial, we find him in prayer. Just like in It’s a Wonderful Life, prayer occupies a crucial place in the context of the script. It is the only thing that remains for him. The only thing we ourselves have before the inner tribunal of our own conscience: the appeal to the mercy and help of God. Despite the tragic outcome, divine help came. Throughout the trial, we witness an alter Christus. Sir Thomas More, the servant of His Majesty who, in true obedience, refuses to submit to an injustice that would harm the King himself:
I am the King’s true subject...
...and I pray for him and all the realm.
Aren’t all those Cardinals and Bishops nowadays in a similar situation, attempting to warn their earthly “King” that he is on the wrong path? That he cannot violate God’s law and the consciences of those who are tested without endangering his own salvation?
God’s First
Who are the enemies? Who are the faithful ones? A Man for All Seasons contains the unique answer to this ultimate question. The true friend of any hierarchical superior can only be the one who, with unwavering conviction, believes what Saint Thomas More said on the scaffold:
I die His Majesty’s good servant...
...but God’s first.
God’s first. Let us remember this short sentence and meditate for as long as necessary to grasp its profound meanings. And, like Sir Thomas More, let us strive with all our might to fulfill the words of the Holy Apostle Paul: “Pray without ceasing” (1 Thessalonians 5:17).
Here is available a high resolution photo of the statue: https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Ecstasy_of_Saint_Teresa_September_2015-2a.jpg [Accessed: 25 February 2025].
The movie script can be read here: https://www.scripts.com/script/a_man_for_all_seasons_1131 [Accessed: 25 February 2025].
Please give us more articles like this one, sir!
Since I first saw this film, it has remained one of my favourites of all time (and I am a connoisseur of film along with their scores). It is one of the finest depictions of the nobility of a man's soul and the fineness of his intellect in the face of certain death.