"Wake Up Dead Man" (2025)

I have really liked Rian Johnson’s whodunit movies. Knives Out was great. Glass Onion took a step down, but it was still good. Both were clever twists on the classic detective story. Much of the joy in these films comes from the way Johnson plays with his audience. There is an element of “cheating” in his stories. He withholds key facts and perspectives that make solving the crime impossible for the viewer. That approach can feel either refreshing or annoying, depending on your preference. I fall into the annoyed camp, but the style is fresh and entertaining enough that I still enjoy the ride.

Wake Up Dead Man is more of the same. Knowing Johnson’s habits, the audience is already on guard, and many of the surprises can be seen from a distance. This time, however, there are multiple layers of Johnson’s narrative sleight of hand, resulting in a story that feels extremely long and, unfortunately, drawn out.

As with his earlier films, Johnson uses the mystery framework to smuggle in cultural commentary. In Knives Out, he skewered the self-righteous racism of America’s elite. Glass Onion mocked the absurdity and incompetence of the ultra-wealthy, especially the tech bro culture so often admired and excused. In Wake Up Dead Man, his attention turns to religion, particularly the rise of Christian Nationalism in the United States.

Johnson sets up two opposing interpretations of Christianity.

On one side, represented by Monsignor Wicks, we see an ultra-legalistic, controlling version of the faith. This Christianity is obsessed with power and driven by fear and hatred. It is portrayed in a somewhat cartoonish way, but that exaggeration is not entirely unfair. In real life, these movements often border on parody when they are not outright frightening.

The other religious perspective is represented by Father Duplenticy. As his name suggests, he is divided. He struggles with his faith yet still views Christianity as a place where broken people can find grace and forgiveness. In the film, his Christianity functions more as a symbol than as a claim about reality. The message matters, but its factual truth does not. Christianity becomes a story pointing toward “truth,” rather than truth itself. This position presents itself as a reasonable middle ground, though it is not the true center. More on that later.

Opposing Wicks’s cult like Christianity from the other end of the spectrum is the film’s hero, Benoit Blanc. Blanc rejects religion altogether. Instead of faith, he embraces rationality. Instead of submission, he sets his own standards and lives by his own rules. As the story unfolds, it becomes clear that Blanc and Duplenticy are not as different as they might first appear. That should not be surprising. Duplenticy’s Christianity ultimately says, “You are fine the way you are. You are broken, but God loves you as you are, so you should too.” While it encourages self-improvement, it places the burden of change entirely on the individual. Transformation is unlikely, but that is acceptable. The only real difference between Duplenticy and Blanc is that Blanc does not acknowledge the need for any religious symbol or spiritual crutch to motivate him.

Ultimately, both ends of this spectrum offer a false god. Either you submit to a powerful, godlike figure as an acolyte, or you turn inward and enthrone yourself as the final authority. In both cases, the same ancient lie is embraced. “You can become like God.”

The film repeatedly references “Eve’s curse,” which it frames as the temptation of riches. That works as a partial picture of temptation, but the deeper problem is not wealth itself. The real curse is the belief that anything other than the Creator, whether another human being or ourselves, can take God’s place.

The biblical worldview occupies the true center that the film never reaches. It IS a story, but not a symbolic myth. It is rooted in history and is a reality that happened. It is truth and fact. If Jesus is God who came and died for the sins of the world, and not just as a concept, the world is changed!

The cross points neither to legalistic religion nor to radical independence from God. Yes, we are broken, but the answer is not “be better in your own strength,” nor is it “simply accept yourself and be forgiven.” Our brokenness is real and destructive. We cause immense harm in the world. No one would suggest that God should casually overlook genocide, child abuse, or the oppression of the poor. Instead, God responds to evil with a love that takes sin seriously. The cross acknowledges the gravity of human guilt. Grace and forgiveness are freely offered, but justice and consequences are not ignored.

Because of this, Christians are freed from both fear and denial. We do not need to view the world with hatred, nor do we need to whitewash injustice. We love as Christ loved, sacrificially and truthfully. This, and not power or self-salvation, is the way the world has actually been changed.