Faithful cinema goers: the subtle come back of religious cinema in Spain

On 9 April 2021, as cinemas were closed in some parts of Spain and with a limited seating capacity in others, a documentary called Vivo came out. The film raised 5,582 euros on each of its six screenings, with an average of 733 spectators in its first weekend. An influx of Marvel premiers that allowed it to multiply its distribution and end up as the third blockbuster documentary of the year with 240,946 euros in revenue and 44,622 viewers. Second on the list was Medjugorje, la película: 285,740 euros and 44,622 viewers.

What made two not so well-known, small distribution, independent, documentaries join the list of most watched films in 2021, surpassing the numbers per screen of Venom? This is due to the small new success of Spanish religious cinema. Both films are part of the boom films have been experiencing in the last decade, especially since 2017, because of their open link to Christian stories, values, and figures. Even though they do not appear in mainstream media, or on billboards, they have not had less than 10 premiers a year and have a loyal audience that goes to see them. 

This “cinema of good values” made in Spain seeks to remove the stigma of propaganda films they inherited from Francoism which touched the so-called Christian cinema of the US or Italy. Even if documentaries as a genre is the most cultured (partly because of its budget), it covers all genres: historical drama, family friendly, musical, or even comedy. This is its story. 

The 2010 documentary that opened the door: The Last Summit (La última cima)

Alfredo Panadero is a member of the European Dream Factory distributor, a company that has been key in this revival of religious cinema in Spain since its establishment in 2008. They produced successes such as Medjugorje, la película, Dawns in Calcuta (Amanece en Calcuta) Petra de San José and The Mystery of Padre Pio (El misterio del Padre Pío) . Panadero marks a turning point in contemporary religious cinema with the premier of Mel Gibson’s The Passion of the Christ (2003), “it showed that a blockbuster could have this type of content and still blow up in cinemas, there was an audience for it”.

Panadero adds that, as for Spain, that milestone came with documentary The last Summit (2010) by Juan Manuel Cotelo. According to data from the Institute of Cinematography and Audio-visual Arts (ICAA), only looking at data for Spain, the film about priest Pablo Domínguez raised 804,185.15 euros and seated 135,957 viewers. Panadero who distributed some films from Cotelo’s film production company – Fundación Infinito+1, considers it to be “a very brave film” for “premiering a story about a priest at a time where only stories of abuse can be told”.

The success of Cotelo’s documentary showed that there was space for this type of film. Since 2010, and especially in the last 5 years, the number of state productions with religious values or religious figures has not stopped growing. An ecosystem with its own directors has already been established (Cotelo himself, Pablo Moreno, Andrés Garrigó and Jose María Zavala), their own specialist companies (Infinito+1, Hakuna Films, Stellarum Films, Goya Producciones and distributors with their specific niche like European Dreams, Bosco Films), and even a dedicated mini-Hollywood in Ciudad Rodrigo (Salamanca).

Documentaries, biopics, and a model nothing like that of Italy or the US

Cotelo has managed to produce religious films from different genres. From documentaries like The Last Summit – La última cima, Mary’s Land – Tierra de María (2013), a pacifist comedy with a dose of self-parody like The Greatest Gift – El mayor regalo (2018), or a children’s musical against divorce like Tengamos la fiesta en paz (2021). “I try not to make two films that are the same or look the same”, Cotelo explains to Cine con Ñ. “As soon as two films are too similar, they are no longer interesting to me. As soon as a country or a genre’s filmmaking is pigeonholed in a predictable or repetitive way, at least for me, it loses all its interest”. 

But Cotelo’s case is more unusual because of the freedom that his audience’s good response allowed him to have, and this could have been timed by three or four if we counted his success in Latin America. Although he has decided to move away from documentaries, it’s with the great box office of The Last Summit and Mary’s Land that a great school of thought has been created in Spain. In addition to the success of Vivo and Medjugorje, la película, more examples prove that documentaries are the star of religious cinema is Spain – relative successes such as The Mystery of Padre Pio (2018), Amanece en Calcuta (2021) or Fatima, The Ultimate Mystery (Fátima, el último misterio (2017) prove it. 

Why bet so much on documentaries? It’s a question of demand and profitability. The demand for this type of coverage on well-known Christian themes and figures guarantees a public base, who are more in touch with those religious figures and stories which they admire and wish to delve further into. 

The other great trend of religious cinema in Spain was marked by filmmaker Pablo Moreno, who specialises in biopics. His works include Claret (2021) and Petra of Saint Joseph – Petra de San José (2022) or historical dramas like The Network of Freedom – Red de libertad (2017) and A Forbidden God – Un dios prohibido (2013). He clarifies that they do not shoot “hagiographies, firstly because it would idealise the characters, make them inhuman and distant from the public”. He asks to distinguish them from “pamphleteering cinema which came about during the dictatorship and National Catholicism”. He also criticises prejudices on that subject, “if we give you a film about Buddhist spirituality in Spain, it’s socially accepted, but if it’s about Catholic spirituality counting the same thing, it’s not perceived in the same light”. 

The outlook of Spanish Christian cinema, with its documentaries on various topics and historical biopics, is reflected in Polish cinema of the same genre. Both countries having become the focus in Europe compared to Italy which is more inclined towards the adaptation of biblical stories, which has made it fall back in recent years. Alfredo Panadero believes that the most recognisable “genre” is faith-based, Christian cinema from the US, which almost always links back to evangelical confessions. In Spain however, “I wouldn’t be able to say if there was a specific genre because different audio-visual languages exist. We could call certain types of productions Christian cinema which has a devoted following. Does that audience have a glass-ceiling? I dare not comment, because yes, it does. I would’ve done so couple years ago”. 

An audience that remains responsive with no promotion

With the data in hand, it does seem evident that there is a loyal audience for religious cinema in Spain, which ranges between 30,000 and 60,000 viewers, numbers that are not insignificant and higher than that of previous films with commercial screenings. To get a better idea, in 2019, the last year of pre-pandemic earnings, titles such as The Crack: Inception (el cracl creo) by José Luis Garci, Goya Award winning with A Thief’s Daughter (La hija de un ladrón) or The Platform (El hoyo), which later became an international success on Netflix.

“Our audience knows that if they go on the first weekend of the month, the film has a better chance to continue on”, explains Lucía Gonzalez-Barandiaran, founder of Bosco Films.“The audience waits for this kind of cinema and will show up even if it’s a single showing at four in the afternoon, and it works by word of mouth. This explains why they’re large-audience films”. The film distributor, which began its work in Latin America at the end of 2021, celebrates how Vivo, mentioned at the begin at this article, has managed to join the Top 10 box office in countries like Mexico and Columbia. 

Jesús García Colomer, film director of Medjugorje, la película, agrees with the concept of word of mouth and of an audience that waits for this kind of cinema”. Especially seen as its main limitation, like that of other small productions, is “its promotion. If you’re working on a low budget, you spend it on making sure the film is well-made. And with what is left over, which is less, it all goes straight to its promotion, which in the end, is an added difficulty.” 

García Colomer personally admits that he has benefitted from the appearance of a well-known figure like Tamara Falcó, who visited the Marian sanctuary which is where the film was shot and spoke about the film on her social media. Public figures who get involved in the promotion of these films is occasional but not uncommon – when Vivio was first released, the very famous content creator Nachter, who specialises in light-hearted humour on social media, also recommended it. 

For that matter, perhaps films like Medjugorge, la película, are not so far removed from other “niche” documentaries or productions with a small distribution and promotion, which drew attention to their numbers amid the 2020 and 2021 restrictions. For example, in September 2020 El Drogas, Natxo Leuza’s documentary on Enrique Villarreal ‘El Drogas’, was the best premiere in cinema with an average of 897 euros, after only being released in 16 cinemas. Besides the obvious differences such as themes, they both have a loyal audience in common which informs the type of content they want and makes it profitable despite its little to no media promotion. 

Because we are talking about films with almost no media echo, including specialised press, and whose awards are usually “niche”, like the Mirabile Dictu Catholic Film Festival “los Óscar del Vaticano”. Medjugorje, la película’s greatest recognition was its nomination for Best Documentary at the Cinema Writers Circle Awards (Medallas del Círculo de Escritores Cinematográficos), an award won in 2010 by The Last Summit. At most, we see headlines when “attacks” are made on the Top 10, with films like Vivo, or the international success of Mary’s Land, which generate numbers that are hard to look past. As for the others, they manage to survive with their backs turned to the media. 

Money: crowdfunding, few producers, and religious orders

Once again, Juan Manuel Cotelo mentions that when it comes to financing or promoting his religious-inspired productions, he comes across the same difficulties as when he finances other films. All films, with no exception, represent an important and risky bet for any producer. Whoever expects it to be easy should retire before they start. As the filmmaker who makes the best figures with this type of film in Spain, he prefers not to give much importance to the niche. “Religious cinema is not something new, nor is it limited to a small audience, as shown by films like Ben-Hur, A Man for All Seasons (Un hombre para la eternidad), The Mission (La misión), Of Gods and Men (De dioses y hombres), La Pasión, and a long list of highly successful religious titles throughout the world”. 

When asked about how he finances his films, Pablo Moreno explains to Cine con Ñ that there are two ways of financing religious films in Spain, through crowdfunding or commissioning. The latter is most common to him, which he summarises as “a religious congregation that wants to make institutional communication, which they have been doing in different ways since they existed, be it an altarpiece or a book, only in this case, it’s a film”. Although the exact financial relationship is not detailed, the congregations linked to the Spanish Catholic Church still manage to carry out this type of audio-visual project. 

In his Ciudad Rodrigo studios, the ‘miniHollywood’ of Christian cinema in Spain, Moreno has mostly directed historical dramas, with a small ‘celebrity system’ that includes actresses like Elena Furiase, or Assumpta Serna, a regular extra in his films. The filmmaker who also directs the FICEE – International Festival of Educational and Spiritual Cinema of Ciudad Rodrigo, where he shows films of all faiths, Christian, Jewish, Muslim, or Buddhist. He believes that the Catholic orders “are realising 100 years later than our US Protestant brothers, of what a useful tool cinema is. It addresses a broad audience, of which some are non-believers. It’s a way of saying ‘we’re a part of this world, we want you to get to know us’”. 

As for crowdfunding, and as an example, it was the main financial means for Medjugorje and its director’s previous documentary – Hospitalarios: Las manos de la virgen, combined with the usual support from Juan Manuel Cotelo’s through the Fundación Infinito+1 productions, which has an international presence in more than 35 countries. It is obviously not a rare option for small productions, but the ease with which they usually achieve objectives, gives us an idea on their audience’s commitment. Then, there are the lungs of the production companies themselves, normally scarce, as it may be the case with the Hakuna Films who are behind the film Vivo and its links to Opus Dei Unveiled. 

The past and future of religious cinema in Spain

One of the reasons behind the revival of religious cinema in Spain has to do with a shift in the way these films are perceived, as they had been linked for several generations to the official Francoism cinema. García Colomer relates it to a public “weariness” towards “a religious cinema which is linked to national-Catholic propaganda which no longer exists. I was born in 1977, and unlike most film directors who have worked on their challenges, I didn’t live through the dictatorship”. 

One thing is certain, Francos’ Spain National-Catholic religious cinema did not make an appearance until the mid 1940s. Until then, the Regime’s cultural tool had been in dispute with Falange, which was more prone to films of military values. Ricardo Colmenero, a lecturer at the university of Alcalá de Henares, dedicated several articles to religious cinema in Spain during the dictatorship and its relationship with other similar works on film, such as those of France, Italy, or the US. 

Colmenero considers the period between 1946 and 1959 as the “golden age” of Catholic cinema in Francoist Spain, during which this type of cinema showed its commercial strength and an international presence that denied, in part, the image of isolated cinematography that was given to Spanish cinema. Our Lady of Fatima – La señora de Fátima (1951) by Rafael Gil was showed at the World Conference of Secular Institutes in Rome, and achieved great international success, both with critics and the audience, as was the case with I Was a Parish Priest – La guerra de Dios (1953), also by Gil, or Miracle of Marcelino (1954) by Ladislao Vajda. 

Spain did not cease to be present even in the harshest moments of autarky, and world institutions of Catholic cinema. Although, it was late to become a member of the International Catholic Organisation for Cinema which existed between 1928 and 2001 and made a decisive impact on 1960s Christian cinema. In our country, unlike others with a Protestant majority, the Catholic Church acts more as an advisor (or censor) than as a content promoter, although there are companies that are linked to Opus Dei (Filmayer) and Acción Católica (Estela Films). 

From there, Colmenero underlines the special features of Spanish Christian cinema in which more of the saint’s lives or exemplary stories are set in the present day and in which there is less biblical content. This is mostly due to a lack of budget, and while it’s hard to prove, parlty because of the erotic content that used to get passed on outside of our borders. According to the author of ‘La Iglesia católica y el cine en el Franquismo’, the most successful film of that era (according to its number of weeks in cinema), is Miracle of Marcelino (1954), with 145 weeks, Pequeñeces (1950) by Juan de Orduña, 107 weeks and Molokai, la isla maldita (1959) by Luis Lucía, 105 weeks. 

Beyond the Christian messages, inspiration, and a few common themes, there are few comparable elements between the cinema of the 1950s and 60s with the current one. What remains, is the escape from strictly biblical content (most common in Christian cinema in the US) and the close dialogue, even if it’s not in the media, with other similar works of film (such as that of Poland which has a strong link to Christianity). Cotelo and Moreno are regulars at the Mirabile Dictu Awards, taking advantage of their international potential in other Christian countries.  

However, it is possible that the main difference, beyond the invasion of documentaries and historical-biographical reviews, as the dominant subgenres, is in the impact and budgets. For their time, both Miracle of Marcelino and great international titles like Ben-Hur or The Greatest Story Ever Told (La Historia Más Grande Jamás Contada) were great blockbusters supported by great financial and institutional powers capable of dominating the box office and magazine covers as Spiderman or Batman now do. Nowadays, no one doubts the profitability of The Last Summit or Petra San José, but it will be difficult for them to reach the more mainstream audience as they once did. 

Even so, religious cinema in Spain continues to produce titles like documentaries A Father’s Heart (Corazón de padre) by Andrés Garrigó, already in theatres and which made 29,131 euros and 4,032 viewers in its first weekend on March 18, or Parasceve, retrato de una Semana Santa by Hilario Abad which gathered 38,884 euros and 6,397 viewers, in addition to The Blacks (Los Negros), by Antonio Palacios, which talks about the working class brotherhood of Holy Week in Seville. No data at the closing of this article. El beso de Dios by Pietro Ditano, a documentary about mass, will be released on April 22. 

Films that are profitable thanks to a mixture of both tight budgets and a sufficient audience, although far from being the majority. Their sentence perhaps is that in sin they carry penance: their own survival through a niche field limits their possibilities and pushes them into their “comfort zone” of proselytism, a small cinematographic bubble whose destiny is irrelevance. 

Cover photo: Single frame portrait of Petra de San José (2021), by Pablo Moreno.