The overall narrative revolves around a compelling question: Are we alone? Spielberg’s answer is unequivocal: we are not. However, in this film he ventures into theological and epistemological territory, playing with religious symbols and long-held beliefs. He not only answers the question of extraterrestrial life but also dares to place the origins of the divine within the same extraterrestrial realm. Furthermore, he suggests that such a revelation could shatter the existing social order and humanity’s most deeply held beliefs once this “truth” is finally disclosed.
Before I start, I have to admit I cannot be unbiased when reviewing Steven Spielberg’s movies. I grew up watching them, and E.T. still holds a special place in my heart. Certainly, not all of his films have earned the same appreciation from me, but his latest, Disclosure Day, is definitely not among his best.
It was an entertaining experience, but a masterpiece - in the heights of his previous achievements? Hardly. Spielberg’s body of work sets incredibly high expectations, but surprisingly, this film fails to reach the heights of Schindler’s List or even Close Encounters of the Third Kind. But let’s stay in the realm of one of Spielberg’s favorite subjects: aliens.
War of the Worlds is a movie I could watch over and over again, and the same goes for Close Encounters of the Third Kind. E.T. is one of those films I return to from time to time - and every viewing requires a box of Kleenex. It remains a nostalgic reminder of childhood dreams and innocence. Unfortunately, I can’t say the same about his latest feature.
The overall narrative revolves around a compelling question: Are we alone? Spielberg’s answer is unequivocal: we are not. However, in this film he ventures into theological and epistemological territory, playing with religious symbols and long-held beliefs. He not only answers the question of extraterrestrial life but also dares to place the origins of the divine within the same extraterrestrial realm. Furthermore, he suggests that such a revelation could shatter the existing social order and humanity’s most deeply held beliefs once this “truth” is finally disclosed.
Let’s delve into the theological narrative of the story. Margaret Fairchild, a meteorologist from Kansas City, shattered by childhood trauma and unfulfilled, with high aspirations, is masterfully portrayed by Emily Blunt. After receiving a mysterious visit from a bird, she acquires a set of extraordinary gifts reminiscent of those described in the Book of Acts. She can speak in tongues, a phenomenon commonly referred to as glossolalia. In addition, she has supernatural knowledge of other people that is revealed to her, and she even possesses abilities that go beyond those attributed to the apostles themselves. Margaret possesses another remarkable gift: she can present herself as anyone familiar to the person she encounters. This enables her to evade WARDEX agents pursuing her, although the resulting chase sequence feels considerably longer than necessary.
The bird, among other things, symbolizes spiritual truth in the Bible. Margaret, therefore, whether intentionally or not, assumes the role of a messenger, a prophet endowed with supernatural gifts. The analogy with Christianity is more than obvious.
Another protagonist, Dr. Daniel Kellner, a reformed hacker and cybersecurity expert for WARDEX who later becomes a whistleblower to expose extraterrestrial life, received these gifts earlier in his life. In his case, however, they manifest differently. Along with an extraordinary ability to comprehend complex mathematical formulas, he can also interpret the alien language - the very language that thrusts Margaret into the spotlight when she begins speaking in tongues during a live television broadcast. Once again, the parallel with the Book of Acts is unmistakable. Both characters act as messengers, endowed with the ability to perform extraordinary wonders.
In another scene, Noah Scanlon, played by Colin Firth - the shadowy head of WARDEX and Daniel’s superior, determined to keep the existence of extraterrestrials hidden - uses an alien artifact to perform astral projection and influence Daniel’s girlfriend, Jane, a former nun struggling with her own spiritual doubts. This parallel is particularly intriguing because the aliens are portrayed not merely as advanced beings, demiurges, or semi-divine figures, but as a genuine alternative to the traditional Judeo-Christian understanding of the divine.
In another scene, Jane raises an intriguing question: Will revealing the truth about extraterrestrial life shatter belief in God?
“People will see aliens as deities. They’ll stop believing in God.”
In contrast, Sister Maura is far less troubled by the possibility:
“Why would God make such a vast universe, yet save it only for us?”
This portrayal also invites comparison with the writings of Orthodox monk Father Seraphim Rose. In Orthodoxy and the Religion of the Future, Rose argued that many alleged UFO encounters and paranormal manifestations could be understood not as evidence of extraterrestrial civilizations but as deceptive spiritual phenomena intended to divert humanity from God. Whether one agrees with his conclusions or not, Spielberg’s film touches on remarkably similar questions by presenting extraterrestrial intelligence as a substitute source of revelation - one capable of replacing established religious belief with an entirely new worldview.
Whether one ultimately agrees more with Sister Maura or Father Seraphim Rose, the film undeniably nudges the audience toward a particular interpretation of the relationship between God and extraterrestrial life. To viewers without a deeper theological framework, that interpretation may seem self-evident. To those more familiar with Christian theology, however, it raises significant questions and may even invite theological misunderstandings.
Finally, in the penultimate scene, the alien is revealed to the audience while the entire world watches the same broadcast. Humanity finally receives what is presented as undeniable proof of extraterrestrial life. The final shot lingers on the alien as it embraces the two protagonists before the film ends on a striking cliffhanger. Margaret turns directly toward the audience and utters a single word: “Listen.”
Perhaps the film’s most provocative theological statement comes in its very last second. For a viewer familiar with the biblical tradition, that final command carries profound theological resonance. The Hebrew word Shema (שְׁמַע), which opens Judaism’s central confession of faith: “Hear, O Israel: The Lord our God, the Lord is one” (Deuteronomy 6:4) - means far more than simply to hear. It implies listening with obedience, embracing, and responding to the truth that has been proclaimed.
Whether intentional or not, the film appears to appropriate this biblical motif. Instead of calling humanity to hear the voice of God, it invites the audience to receive a new revelation - one mediated by extraterrestrial intelligence. In that sense, the film’s final moment functions almost as an inversion of the Shema. The audience is no longer summoned to listen to divine revelation but to an alternative source of ultimate truth.
From a theological perspective, this may be the film’s most consequential message. Throughout the story, revelation, prophecy, miraculous gifts, spiritual language, and finally the command to “listen” are gradually redirected away from the biblical God and toward an extraterrestrial source. Whether Spielberg intended such symbolism or not, the cumulative effect is unmistakable: the film presents extraterrestrial intelligence not merely as another form of life but as a rival source of revelation, inviting the audience to reconsider where ultimate truth lies.
Interestingly enough, whether you believe in coincidence, cultural timing, or even preemptive programming, Disclosure Day is being released at roughly the same time that governments continue to declassify and release selected UAP footage to the public - footage that many have found rather disappointing. It naturally raises the question: how can the same governments that possess satellite imagery capable of extraordinary precision provide the public with footage that remains so low-resolution and inconclusive?
The film also arrives amid persistent rumors that some prominent pastors have been - or may eventually be - called to confidential disclosure briefings, where they would supposedly be presented with information that could challenge existing theological assumptions and prepare their congregations for what may come. Whether these reports are true or not remains to be seen, but they nevertheless reflect a growing public awareness that the question of extraterrestrial intelligence is not merely scientific or political - it is also deeply philosophical and theological.
This is not to suggest that the existence of extraterrestrial life would, in itself, pose a challenge to Christian theology. The Christian tradition has long affirmed that God is the Creator of the entire cosmos, not merely of humanity. Rather, the theological issue raised by Disclosure Day is different. The film does not simply ask whether intelligent life exists elsewhere in the universe; it presents that intelligence as the bearer of humanity’s ultimate revelation, gradually assuming roles traditionally reserved for God, prophets, and divine messengers.
It is this subtle replacement of biblical revelation - not the possibility of extraterrestrial life itself - that makes Disclosure Day so intriguing from a theological perspective.
At the same time, I do not believe Disclosure Day should be dismissed as anti-Christian propaganda. Spielberg has always been fascinated by questions of transcendence, mystery, and humanity’s place in the universe. What makes this film particularly intriguing is not that it argues for the existence of extraterrestrial life, but that it explores what happens when humanity begins to reinterpret religious categories through that lens. Whether one accepts or rejects its conclusions, the film succeeds in provoking questions that extend far beyond science fiction.
That, perhaps, is Disclosure Day's greatest achievement. It is not Spielberg’s finest film, nor will I revisit it as often as E.T., War of the Worlds, or Close Encounters of the Third Kind. Yet it is worth watching, though I would put it at the very bottom of his achievements. Still, it invites viewers to think not only about whether we are alone in the universe, but also about where humanity ultimately looks for truth, meaning, and revelation. For believers and skeptics alike, that conversation is worth having - even if one ultimately arrives at very different conclusions than the film itself.