Wake Up Dead Man is the third installment of Rian Johnson’s Knives Out films, following detective Benoit Blanc as he solves elaborate and contemporary murder mysteries.
These films have become one of the most unique and interesting film franchises of the 21st century, being somewhat of an anomaly in their unique, anthology-esque approach and authorial thumbprint. The first Knives Out film was somewhat of a surprise hit, as well as an interesting follow-up for Rian Johnson following his brief time at the helm of the Star Wars franchise. 2022’s Glass Onion took a more contemporary approach to critique the billionaire tech-bro archetype and social media culture, introducing us to an entirely new cast of characters for Daniel Craig’s Blanc to interact with and investigate. Wake Up Dead Man does the same, wiping the slate clean and introducing Blanc to another fresh crop of characters, but this time shifting its focus to religion and the local church.
While on paper this might initially look like Rian Johnson abandoning the contemporary social commentary of the first two films, Wake Up Dead Man is just as cutting and relevant. Johnson has spoken in the past about his obvious affinity with the Agatha Christie whodunnit novels, and how despite appearances to the modern reader they were always written as contemporary social commentary. Today they might seem dated and antiquated in their commentary, but that is precisely because of how Christie was addressing the current moment. Johnson has made no secret of the fact that he aims to do exactly the same thing with his Knives Out films, and Wake Up Dead Man is no different.
One could assume that the film’s view on religion could be the same tired, old take, but as has been established in this series, it is startlingly relevant and biting despite the gothic, small town setting. The mystery centres around Josh O’Connor’s Fr. Jud Duplenticy, a former boxer turned Catholic priest, who is assigned to a small upstate
New York church run by Josh Brolin’s Mons. Jefferson Wicks. The characteristically large ensemble cast of townsfolk includes Glenn Close, Jeremy Renner, Andrew Scott, Mila Kunis, Kerry Washington, Daryl McCormack, Thomas Haden Church, Cailee Spaeny and Jeffrey Wright, all of whom make up the tapestry of townsfolk who populate the small town that revolves around Wicks’ church.
Before the murder mystery itself begins (it is surprisingly late in the day that Blanc is introduced), the film explores what it looks like for a charismatic leader to take control over their flock through fear and combative theology. Brolin is an intentionally intimidating figure, and one who is able to keep the support of his congregation by systematically enforcing an “us vs. them” brand of Christendom. The faith community at the heart of the story is one built on fear, corruption, hatred, and division. This is something that the film uses to great effect in its critique in a particularly scary and ever-growing branch of western Christianity.
A less nuanced film would leave its critique of faith communities there, but Wake Up Dead Man is only just getting started. Josh O’Connor is disgusted by the ministry of Josh Brolin and the culture that it has established in this small town, and as he sets out to establish something better he rediscovers his own calling in the process. The magic trick that Johnson pulls off with his clockwork script is that this process of rediscovery and affirmation of call is inherently tied to the murder mystery that eventuates and brings the indomitable Benoir Blanc into the fold.
“You’re right. It’s storytelling. The rites and the rituals… costumes, all of it. It’s storytelling. I guess the question is, do these stories convince us of a lie? Or do they resonate with something deep inside us that’s profoundly true, that we can’t express any other way except storytelling?”
Wake Up Dead Man paints a picture of faith and community that is built around community and support through grief. It offers genuine grace and mercy as an antidote to the fear-based teaching that so often plagues organised religion. Johnson’s script
does a remarkable job of untangling the truth of the Gospel – something Johnson seems to have a real grasp of – from the farce and grift of harmful theology and predatory teaching. In fact, it represents the truth of the Gospel in a relevant and contemporary way much more efficiently and genuinely than most explicitly “faith-based” films of the 21st century.
There are a number of things that hold the film back from being a truly excellent cinematic experience, most of which are related to the flattening of form and style that streaming films are becoming more and more responsible for. The mystery unravels in possibly one too many directions to be entirely satisfying in its eventual revelations, and it doesn’t quite make use of the neo gothic setting and imagery to its fullest potential.
But to be honest, the film is a rich enough thematic exploration of faith and religious communities that these things are far less of an issue than they otherwise would be.
Wake Up Dead Man is an excellent entry in an increasingly consistent franchise made by a filmmaker with a clear authorial intent. It is raucously funny, sufficiently mysterious and taut, but it is through Josh O’Connor’s Fr. Jud Duplenticy and his religious reckoning that it really shines. It is a real shame that it only had a very limited cinematic run, but when it comes to Netflix on December 12 I encourage you to engage with it in good faith. It might just have something beautiful to say to you and your communities this Advent season.
Jonty writes about film, narrative and culture on his Substack, “Postcards from the Abyss”.
