Between the Lines

The film Conclave could not have landed in theaters at a more fitting moment—just as the world watched Rome host a real-life papal election. Rumor has it, even Pope Leo XIV’s own brother urged him to watch the movie. Now that’s a celestial press review.
Thanks to the film, we’re all brushing up on our Vatican vocabulary.

First up: “Conclave”, from the Latin cum clave—literally, “with a key.” It refers to the cardinals being quite literally locked in until they choose a new pope.

Then there’s the poetic “in pectore”—“in the heart.” This secretive term refers to a cardinal appointed privately by the pope, his identity known only to the pontiff himself. Think of it as a holy mystery, sealed in silence.

And of course, we meet Sister Agnes, played by Isabella Rossellini, who brings calm, curiosity, and a hint of quiet mischief to her role as the head caretaker at Casa Santa Marta—the Vatican residence where the cardinals reside during the election. At first glance, she seems just a figure in the background, but her presence deepens. Through her, we glimpse private moments, silent truths, and the invisible weight of power.
Meanwhile, back in Rome, as art echoed life, the world looked skyward for signs—literally.

We relearned the language of smoke: fumata nera for no pope yet, and fumata bianca when the decision has finally been made. The Sistine chimney became a global lighthouse.

And when the white smoke does rise, what happens next is one of the most moving rites in the Church: the new pope enters the Room of Tears (Stanza delle Lacrime). Just off the Sistine Chapel, this modest chamber is where the pope-elect, now dazed with the weight of history, changes into his white cassock. Waiting for him are three sizes—small, medium, and large—tailored by the legendary Gammarelli atelier. There is no glamour here, only solemn awe.

Many popes, upon entering, have broken into tears. Pope Leo XIII, back in 1878, reportedly wept openly, overwhelmed and convinced he was too old for the task. One moment a cardinal, the next the shepherd of over a billion souls—and, as tradition gently reminds him, likely in the place where he will one day lie in rest, beside popes past, beginning with Peter himself.

Then comes the great announcement from the loggia of St. Peter’s Basilica: Habemus Papam—We have a Pope.

Conclave might be a movie, but this past month, the script belonged to real life. And between smoke signals, whispered Latin, we were reminded again of the strange, sacred theater of choosing a pope—and how, even in silence and robes, history speaks volumes.