A Catholic Review of Netflix’s Mary: How Biblically Accurate Is It?

The modern era of cinema is no stranger to biblical epics. From the 1950s The Ten Commandments, to the popular ‘life of Christ’ series, The Chosen (2017-present), and now to the Netflix movie, Mary (2024), there has been an obvious interest in “uncovering” the mysterious history contained in the Bible. We moderns are exceedingly more comfortable, and certainly more entertained, with a television before our eyes than with a Bible in our hands. It’s natural, then, that in this modern era we find it intriguing to see famous scenes plucked from the Bible and recast in the dramatic world of cinema. But entertaining though it may be, how should Catholics receive these kinds of projects?

Mary is the result of over a decade in the making. It was directed by D.J. Caruso, a self-professed Catholic, and produced by Joel Osteen, who needs no introduction. The main aim of the movie was to make Mary “accessible” and to give young viewers the chance to see her “in a new light.” Taking this into account alongside Sacred Scripture and Christian tradition, I here offer an evaluation of ten categories that Mary sought to depict in their epic Christmas special. After these, I will close with what I take to be the greatest issue raised by the whole matter. What follows are my own views, and any mistakes or errors, grammatical or theological, I own entirely.

1.  Gabriel (and the whole angelic presence)

Grade: F

Leading off with perhaps the most bizarre part of the movie is the cringy depiction of the angelic realm—both good and bad alike. We are almost immediately introduced to Gabriel in the desert when Joachim (the father of Mary), then childless, is praying and fasting for a child. Gabriel appears to him and reveals that his prayer has been heard and that he will indeed have a child.

Everything before the annunciations to Zechariah and Mary (cf. Luke 1) is consigned to speculation and creativity, at least biblically speaking, though the angelic apparition to Joachim, while not biblical, is not unique. The apocryphal Protoevangelium of James depicts such an event. Much of the backstory of Mary and her youth leans on this work, with creative liberties inserted throughout.

So why an F? Nothing about Gabriel communicated the glory or strength of God, though his name means “God is my strength,” or “strength of God.” He personifies rather the eerie, darker colors of the occult, as the modern world paints them. No trace of joy was found in his tone; his actions were devoid of peace; his eyes laden in darkness; his skin was covered in cryptic tattoos. In a mysterious scene later in the movie, Gabriel confronts Lucifer to protect Mary, calling Lucifer “brother.” Although Gabriel and Satan do share angelic natures (a demon = a fallen angel), I think their relationship is anything but ‘brotherly.’

Every time Gabriel appeared in a scene—which was far more than what should have been—I was left feeling uneasy, as though God was not present, active, and fulfilling his will through his angelic servants. I think of what St. Antony of the Desert said when depicting angelic versus demonic visitations:

For the presence either of the good or evil by the help of God can easily be distinguished. The vision of the [angels] is not fraught with distraction: “For they will not strive, nor cry, nor shall any one hear their voice.” But it comes so quietly and gently that immediately joy, gladness and courage arise in the soul. . . . But if at the appearance of any there is confusion, knocking without, worldly display, threats of death and the other things which I have already mentioned, know that it is an onslaught of evil spirits. (Life of Antony, 35-36)

Gentleness, joy, and gladness are not words I associate with the depiction of the archangel in Mary, which left the presence of God wanting throughout the narrative, giving the sense that a rogue mystic was orchestrating the events of our salvation.

2.  King Herod

Grade: A

Herod, played by the highly revered Sir Anthony Hopkins, appears as a tyrannical megalomaniac who could not stand to see his power threatened in the wake of the messiah’s birth. Biblically, the portrait of Herod is nearly perfect. Historically, even more so. The biblical data on Herod is scarce. The Gospel of Matthew depicts a man named Herod as king—notably absent from the opening genealogy, and thus not a king in the line of David—who ascertains where the Christ child would be born (2:1-12) and orders the slaughtering of the innocents in his bloodthirsty search for him (2:16-18; more on this below). All of these things unfold in Mary as they appear in Matthew.

History sheds additional light on the figure of Herod. He was a vassal king of Rome in the line of the Hasmoneans, a half-Jew, and was known for his building projects, most notably the Temple in Jerusalem. While an adorned and expanded Temple sounds like it could be a nice project, like the renovation of an old church, every project needs to be underwritten. And this one was paid not by the generous pockets of Herod but by the heavy tax burden he laid on the Jews. Caruso’s Herod describes himself as “the king of the thing,” signifying his many famous building projects.

The Herod of history was also a man of deep narcissism and paranoia, obsessed with keeping his power at all costs, leading him to murder his wife and many of his children out of jealousy or suspicion. Anthony Hopkins did a brilliant job depicting Herod and his quest for worldly glory. He portrayed a king whose vision of ruling was entirely worldly, who became drunk on his own power, forsaking completely the idea that power and authority belong properly to God.

3.  Joachim, Anne, and Young Mary

Grade: B-

If Jesus, Mary, and Joseph compose the holy family, the little family of Mary and her parents, Joachim and Anne, could easily be considered the second holiest family. None of Mary’s childhood is mentioned in the Bible, so once again we are faced with the creative liberties of the writer(s). Joachim and Anne are presented as a faithful couple. They earnestly seek the Lord’s blessing for a child; they promise to dedicate her to the ministry of the Temple; and Joachim actively resists compliance with the secular authorities. Mary’s father initially struggles upon discovering his daughter to be with child—but this isn’t beyond the scope of imagination.

Following the traditional lines of the Protoevangelium, Joachim and Anne bring Mary to the Temple at a young age to serve, and to grow up in the shadow of Anna the prophetess and the Temple priests. I actually thought the Anna backstory here worked nicely (biblically, we only encounter Anna at the end of the Presentation scene, cf. Luke 2:26-38).

What I did not appreciate were the reluctant—even fearful—overtones that often accompanied the faith of the family. This is not to say that faith-in-action is always easy. Faith requires courage, often in the face of deep fears and trials. But Caruso’s Mary is hard to reconcile with the biblical understanding of Mary as “full of grace” (cf. Luke 1:38). It’s not lost on me that Caruso and company wanted to make Mary relatable, especially in the moment of her departure from her parents for a life of service in the Temple. Any healthy family will have mixed feelings when separating from a loved one, and Mary, though full of grace and perfect in virtue, was human.

On the other hand, we must question why the one who is perfectly graced, and who finds her deepest fulfillment in the service of the Lord, should feel so reluctant to give herself completely to that blessed activity. It’s a delicate balance to depict the relatable humanity of Mary alongside her perfect virtue. Better left to meditation than the cinema, in my opinion.

4.  Joseph

Grade: C

This was a tough one. On one hand, there were elements of Mary’s Joseph that left me nearly applauding. On the other, there were moments that had me completely bewildered. Three major points converge to merit a mediocre C for the movie-husband of Mary:

First, and of the more fascinating facts about Joseph, is that Joseph has no speaking lines in the Bible. Much like our heavenly Father who says what he has to say in his Son, Joseph speaks nothing for himself and says all he has to say in his Son, Jesus. One could argue that this should instantly fail Mary for its biblical inaccuracy of Joseph, but I will give it a pass here since it would be cinematically awkward for a main character such as Joseph to be kept silent.

Second, I loved Joseph’s youth and love for Mary. My applause to the casting directors who chose this man to portray the earthly father of Jesus. This was a sharp departure from the Protoevangelium which depicts Joseph as an old man with children from a past marriage, taking Mary as more of a guardian than a husband—always a difficult image for me to reconcile. The biblical Joseph is a man who cared for his betrothed, protected his family in their flight to Egypt (no small journey to make for an elderly man), and raised Jesus in the trade of carpentry. These tasks work better with a strong young man naturally able to fulfill them.

The old man theory of Joseph seems to depend upon the presumption that a young Joseph couldn’t pursue heroic chastity for the sake of his virgin wife and divinely conceived child. But the man who has tamed his passions and forged his virtues in faith is a much greater model of righteousness to everyone than the old man who was simply too old to have relations with his wife. The portrait of a man who cherishes his wife is depicted brilliantly in the movie by Joseph smitten at the riverside, captivated by Mary’s beauty and innocence.

The third point is where the movie fails the biblical Joseph, the “just man” (Matt 1:19). It comes from the double-edged sword of conveying Joseph’s masculinity. For all of the good in depicting Joseph as a strong young husband, the writers took it a step (or several steps) too far by depicting a rash Joseph, consumed by rage in defense of his wife and child. The movie depicts a man willing to kill—and quite gruesomely—in order to lead his family to safety. Maybe that works in the Gladiator, but not for the earthly father of the Son of God.

5.  The Annunciation

Grade: D

With the scene of the Annunciation, the movie moves into its official intersection with biblical events, and perhaps not unexpectedly, begins to depart significantly from the biblical accounts, choosing features that favor cinematic flare over faithfulness.

In the movie, the scene of the Annunciation takes place in the Temple, rather than in Nazareth as it is recorded in Luke 1:26. Second, cringy Gabriel reappears and instantly drops the ball. Lurking in the dark behind Mary, he approaches her saying, “Do not be afraid, Mary. You have found favor with God” (a reference to Luke 1:30), completely bypassing the real greeting given by the angel in Scripture: “Greetings, O highly favored one, the Lord is with you” (Luke 1:28). It could be argued that this greeting, the true greeting of Gabriel in Scripture, is one of the most theologically terse statements of the entire Bible. Baked into that one sentence are kernels of Mary’s typological relationship to Israel and the old covenant, Mary’s immaculate conception, and her high calling to be the Mother of God. All of that was glossed over in the Netflix account.

What follows in the movie was only a further watered down depiction of the Luke 1 account. While some accuracies remained, most of the rich Davidic and theophanic statements from the biblical Gabriel were transposed into cryptic foretelling, or removed entirely.

Finally, it ended with Mary’s statement, “Let it be me,” a sharp departure from Mary’s fiat in the biblical account, “Behold, I am the servant of the Lord; let it be to me according to your word” (Luke 1:38, emphasis added). Whereas the biblical Mary completes the scene of the Annunciation with a perfect expression of faith, Caruso’s Mary ends it with a battle cry of introspection and self-fulfilling prophecy.

6.  The Visitation

Grade: F

Alongside Gabriel, the scene of the Visitation to Elizabeth stands as another jarring failure of Mary. What praise can be said of what amounted to a flyover scene? Hardly any.

Initially, Mary is sent there to hide by virtue of the news of her divine pregnancy being overheard in dangerous quarters, not “in haste” with the fervor and joy of the biblical scene (cf. Luke 1:39). The preborn John leaps in the womb of Mary without Elizabeth even realizing that Mary was with child. The presence of the Holy Spirit was entirely absent. Fulfilment of God’s promise was overshadowed by human ambition.

Most noticeable was the absence of Mary’s song of praise, her Magnificat. To remove Mary’s song is to remove all traces of God’s providence in this grand narrative. Whereas the movie sought to magnify the relatable Mary, the biblical Mary magnifies God. This scene was a giant swing and miss.

7.  The Nativity Scene

Grade: B-

There is little to say here other than that the movie’s presentation was average. While elements of the biblical nativity scene were certainly present, it seemed to favor the depiction of the department store nativity scene over the inspired Word. Magi and shepherds visited, the star shining over them was bright, etc.

It certainly lacked the spiritual angle of Luke’s purview that depicts heaven breaking open and choirs of angels announcing good news for the salvation of the world (cf. Luke 2:9-14). Perhaps, though, we were spared from a sky full of “Gabriels” intoning the birth announcement of Jesus. The cave-like setting of Jesus’ birth left significant room for improvement. Rethinking Mary in the New Testament, a recent book by Edward Sri, convincingly reworks the popular ‘no room at the local motel’ motif for a better interpretation of Mary giving birth in the lower setting of a house, the katalyma, where the animals of a family were kept (cf. Rethinking Mary chapter 11). 

8.  The Birth of Jesus

I leave this one with no grade, but I know it is worth mentioning as many Catholics will inevitably wince at the idea that Mary was in pain during childbirth. Allow me the following reply: if Jesus, the new Adam, redeemed the world by enduring the sufferings caused by original sin, can we accept that Mary, the new Eve, instead of escaping the punishments of sin rather redemptively embracedthe punishment of sin (i.e., pain in childbirth) for the salvation of the world?

9.  The Slaughtering of the Innocents

Grade: A

In the biblical narrative of Christ’s birth, the wicked King Herod ordered the massacre of every male infant under two years old (cf. Matt 2:16-18). Hopkins and company did this scene great justice, and it was heart rending.

It walked a fine balance of conveying the tragedy of the episode while not making it too gruesome or explicit. I am pleased that the Mary production team decided to keep this scene in the narrative. The Church keeps the feast of the Holy Innocents every Christmas, but the secular nativity story often turns a blind eye to this dark chapter of the story.

The scene depicts the horror that resulted as soldiers wrestled infants out of mothers’ arms. It also keeps Herod’s mania at its center. A mad and delusional Herod paced his throne room with baskets full of infants lining the walls, asking each one in his turn, “Are you the Christ child?!”

Quoting from the prophet Jeremiah, the Scriptures tell us that at the slaughtering of the innocents “A voice was heard in Ramah, weeping and loud lamentation, Rachel weeping for her children; she refused to be comforted, because they are no more” (Matt 2:18). Weeping and lamentation were certainly conveyed in this scene.

10.  The Presentation of Jesus in the Temple

Grade: C-

The movie ends with the scene of the Presentation of Jesus in the Temple, leaving much to be desired. Forsaking their flight to Egypt, Mary convinces Joseph to turn back to Jerusalem so they could bring Jesus to the Temple. It obviously neglects the timeline given in Luke that situates the presentation forty days after the birth of Jesus.

Ultimately, the scene is completely void of the biblical, cultic nature of the scene as it appears in the third Gospel (cf. Luke 2:22-38). The biblical Presentation depicts a mother at the time of her purification, a sacrifice offered for the ransoming of a firstborn, and conveys the poverty and righteousness of a faithful family. It also introduces characters like Simeon and Anna whose prophecies help interpret the unfolding events through the lens of biblical fulfilment. Much, if not most of this, was missing in the Mary depiction of the scene. Simeon’s role was censored to focus on his Marian-focused prophecy—a focus that indeed corresponds to the biblical story but leaves out some crucial context.

The scene of the Presentation in the Bible is the long-anticipated return of the presence of God to his Temple. The child Jesus in the Temple realizes the longing of exiles, the fulfillment of prophets, and hope for the future. It also is a scene laden with Eucharistic images (see more). Instead, like the scene of the Visitation, the movie scene of the Presentation was stripped of its theological center in order to provide a character-focused ending.

Final Thoughts

This Netflix special was a project that sought to shed modern light on Mary, the mother of Jesus. While the commentary above perhaps give the impression that I watched it with a constant scoff and grimace, it was quite the contrary. I found the movie entertaining. It was action packed, there were great performances, and the topic was of course one of great interest. It was a cinematic victory and action-packed thriller—but that’s just the problem, it was never anything more than that.

The entire production in fact raises an issue of inestimable importance for biblical interpretation, Catholic theology, and general Christian living, namely, the misconstrued effort to ‘get behind the text’ of the Bible to discover the ‘true story.’ Is this all the Bible is for—to provide a small window into history shrouded in literary forms and biased perspectives? Have the ancient texts lost their relevance for modern day readers, leaving the biblical events and characters entirely unrelatable?

If we relegate the Bible to being sacred history only, then the effort to translate its events cinematically does no damage. What is wrong with recreating history? But the Bible is no mere history. Using history as a tool, the Bible is God’s inspired Word, breaking through time and space to you and me, through which he communicates his very person and discloses his plan of salvation for the world. To rip its texts from their corresponding events is to silence God, for it is in the textthat God speaks. A fitting example would be the depiction of the Visitation in Mary and in the Bible. The Biblical text, through its genius and divine perspective, crafts the narrative in such a way that the literary depiction of Mary sings of her identity as God’s New Ark and Queen of her Son’s kingdom (read more). When we remove the textual depiction of this scene, when we ‘go behind the text’ to uncover the ‘real events,’ we do a grave injustice to how God is revealing Mary in that episode.

Caruso, Osteen, and company made a genuine effort to bring the people and events of our salvation to the main screen and I respect their efforts. For all I can ascertain, their intentions were genuine. The Lord always prefers a sincere heart, even when wrong, over a heart that is right but full of pride. I hope they receive their due reward one day. Nevertheless, in their efforts to depict a “relatable” Mary, they chose action over fidelity, heroism over faithfulness, and relatability over providence. In Jesus, God has spoken his final Word. All that we need to know of God and his plan of salvation has been revealed. The inspired texts of the Bible are preserved for more than just historical reference, but for eternal life: “but these are written so that you may believe that Jesus is the Christ, the Son of God, and that by believing you may have life in his name” (John 20:31). While I appreciate the effort of making Mary more relatable—a pursuit we should all undertake—I have all I need in the Catholic Church to relate to my Queen and Mother.