Imagine a church where a 'Dead Man' lies at the heart of a twisted mystery, and you’ve got the essence of Wake Up Dead Man, Rian Johnson’s latest whodunit that’s as sharp as it is sly. But here’s where it gets controversial: while Johnson’s film is packed with laugh-out-loud humor and over-the-top antics, it’s also a sly exploration of faith, morality, and the darker corners of human nature. Could a murder mystery really double as a spiritual inquiry? Johnson seems to think so, and he’s not afraid to dive headfirst into the debate.
Growing up, I was both a devout churchgoer and a voracious reader of mysteries. One of my literary heroes was P.D. James, whose Anglican faith subtly shaped her gripping detective stories. For James, solving a murder wasn’t just about catching a killer—it was a moral quest, a reminder that even in a world of chaos, rationality and justice could prevail. She once wrote that detective stories ‘confirm our hope that, despite evidence to the contrary, we live in a beneficent and moral universe.’ Wake Up Dead Man might not share James’ grim realism—after all, body-dissolving acid and poisoned beverages aren’t exactly her style—but it borrows her core idea: mysteries can be a lens for exploring deeper truths.
Set in a small Catholic church in upstate New York, the film follows Jud Duplenticy (played by the brilliant Josh O'Connor), a junior priest trying to navigate the toxic leadership of Monsignor Jefferson Wicks (Josh Brolin). Wicks is a fire-and-brimstone fundamentalist, spewing hate for gay people, single moms, and anyone who doesn’t align with his narrow worldview. And this is the part most people miss: while Wicks’ rhetoric drives away many parishioners, he’s surrounded by a loyal few, each with their own secrets and motivations. There’s Martha (Glenn Close), the nosy church caretaker; a sharp-witted attorney (Kerry Washington); a depressed alcoholic doctor (Jeremy Renner); and a famous cellist (Cailee Spaeny) who donates to the church in hopes of divine healing. Two characters, in particular, feel like pointed jabs at American conservatism: a formerly liberal writer (Andrew Scott) who’s drifted rightward, and a failed Republican politician turned YouTuber (Daryl McCormack).
Jud’s attempts to break Wicks’ hold on the congregation only deepen the monsignor’s hostility. When Wicks is found fatally stabbed in the church on Good Friday, suspicion falls on Jud. Enter Benoit Blanc (Daniel Craig), the Southern-drawling detective who believes Jud is innocent and enlists his help to solve the murder. But this is no ordinary crime—it’s what detective fiction calls an ‘impossible crime,’ a puzzle that seems to defy logic. Blanc even gives Jud (and the audience) a crash course on John Dickson Carr, the master of such mysteries. As a Carr fan myself, this meta moment had me grinning from ear to ear.
Wake Up Dead Man isn’t perfect—the political jabs can feel heavy-handed, and the bickering parishioners occasionally blur together. But what it lacks in subtlety, it makes up for in heart. Josh O’Connor’s performance as Jud is nothing short of stellar, elevating the film from a snarky satire to a thoughtful meditation on faith and community. As tensions rise—with multiple victims and possibly multiple killers—the story becomes a theological debate between Jud, the earnest believer, and Blanc, the skeptical detective. Who comes out on top? That’s for you to decide.
What makes Wake Up Dead Man so compelling is its willingness to ask tough questions. Is faith a force for good, or can it be weaponized? Can a community heal when its leaders sow division? And most importantly, can a murder mystery actually make you think about God? Johnson doesn’t provide easy answers, but he invites us to join the conversation. So, what do you think? Is this film a clever critique of religious intolerance, or does it go too far? Let’s debate in the comments—I’m all ears.
