About Pope Pius XIII

We are all guilty; we are all guilty of war and death. Always. In the same way, we can all be guilty of peace.

Che’s Rosary Movie Treatment

Title: Che’s Rosary
Genre: Historical Drama / Political Thriller / Spiritual Romance
Setting: October 1962, Cuba – primarily within a volcanic cave system turned nuclear bunker near Havana.
Starring:

  • Felipe Coronel as Che Guevara
  • Rosario Dawson as Alejandra, Che’s spiritual confidante and lover

Movie Treatment:


Logline:

In the thirteen days of the Cuban Missile Crisis, revolutionary Che Guevara and his secret companion Alejandra retreat into a fortified cave bunker with a Soviet nuclear warhead overhead. As the world teeters on the edge of annihilation, the couple finds themselves praying the Rosary—not as a ritual of surrender, but as a last spiritual weapon against judgment day.


Act I: Days 1–4 – Shadows and Shields

The film opens with archival footage and stylized recreations of the Cold War tensions. The U.S. spy planes capture images of Soviet missile silos in Cuba. President Kennedy initiates the blockade. Fidel Castro calls for military readiness. But in the volcanic hills outside Havana, a secret bunker—built by Soviet engineers into the side of an extinct volcano—houses a single warhead and two unexpected occupants: Che Guevara and Alejandra.

Che, gaunt but resolute, knows his tuberculosis is worsening. Alejandra, a revolutionary nurse with mystical leanings and a devotion to the Virgin of Guadalupe, brings him medicine, poetry—and a battered wooden rosary she smuggled out of Mexico.

In whispered candlelight, she urges Che to pray the Rosary with her. At first, he scoffs. “Prayers are for those who’ve surrendered to fear,” he says. But when the radio crackles with talk of invasion and the heat of nuclear war looms, even Che begins to question his dialectical materialism.


Act II: Days 5–9 – Temptation of Fire

The bunker walls drip with moisture, but the tension inside burns. Alejandra and Che debate revolution and religion, apocalypse and faith. She tells him that even revolutionaries must answer to a higher Judge—and that judgment might come in fire from the sky. The missile in the next room glows like a sleeping dragon.

Flashbacks reveal Che’s transformation—from medical student to guerilla to global symbol of resistance. Alejandra sees through it all, calling him by his birth name, Ernesto, and reminding him of his humanity.

Outside, Soviet officers argue with Cuban commanders. One Soviet colonel, a Christian in secret, sneaks in to deliver communion wafers to Alejandra, risking execution. The couple kneels. Che’s hand, once clenched in a fist, now trembles on the rosary beads.

On Day 7, Castro calls Che via radio, asking if the missile is operational. Che doesn’t answer. He and Alejandra begin a fast. They pray all fifteen mysteries of the Rosary each day—offering their penance for the sins of the age: pride, greed, vengeance, fear.


Act III: Days 10–13 – Smoke and Mercy

As the crisis nears its climax, U-2 planes fly closer. Kennedy and Khrushchev exchange final ultimatums. One wrong move, one hotheaded general, and it’s the end. In the cave, Che and Alejandra embrace between Hail Marys and hold each other like it’s their last night on Earth.

On Day 12, a coded message arrives: Khrushchev is considering Kennedy’s terms. There may be peace—but only if all nuclear missiles are removed. Che is torn. “Does that mean our revolution was just a pawn? Were we only leverage?”

Alejandra kisses him. “Maybe your fight was never about missiles or Marx. Maybe it was about this moment. Choosing mercy.”

Che, with tears in his eyes, finishes the final decade of the Rosary aloud—“Holy Mary, Mother of God, pray for us sinners, now and at the hour of our death.”
But there is no death.

On Day 13, October 28, 1962, the deal is made. The world breathes. The missiles are withdrawn.


Epilogue:

Years later, long after Che’s death in Bolivia, an aged Alejandra walks barefoot through the now-empty bunker cave, her rosary still in hand. She places a candle beneath a faded Soviet plaque, and we hear Che’s voice in narration:

“The future is not made by those who carry weapons alone, but by those who dare to kneel.”

Fade to black. A final title card reads:

“For thirteen days, the fate of the world hung by a thread—and a prayer.”


Themes:

  • Faith vs. Revolution – Can prayer coexist with radical change?
  • Love in the Shadow of Doom – A tender human story against a nuclear backdrop.
  • The Rosary as Weapon – A symbol of spiritual resistance to global annihilation.

Visual Style:

  • Muted, volcanic tones inside the cave.
  • Archival newsreel inserts with dreamlike transitions.
  • Intimate candlelit scenes in contrast to the sterile glow of the missile.

Director’s Vision:

A spiritual-political chamber piece with apocalyptic stakes and intimate emotion. Che’s Rosary will evoke The Passion of Joan of Arc meets Thirteen Days, with undertones of The Thin Red Line’s meditations on war and grace.

Revolution and Revelation

Revolution and Revelation

The grand hall of the Vatican was silent, save for the faint echo of footsteps. The Young Pope, Lenny Belardo, sat on a golden throne, his piercing eyes fixed on Felipe Coronel, who stood unflinchingly before him. The room seemed to crackle with an unspoken tension—two men, worlds apart, bound by their uncompromising pursuit of truth.

“You wanted to talk about revolution,” the Pope said, his voice smooth yet laced with an edge of curiosity.

Felipe nodded. “The French Revolution. The guillotines, the blood in the streets. People rising up against the monarchy, against the Church. A moment of justice—or so they thought.”

The Pope leaned forward slightly, his white cassock glowing in the dim light. “And yet, justice born of vengeance often becomes its own form of tyranny. Do you know what Revelation 20 says about such things?”

Felipe crossed his arms, his gaze unwavering. “You’re talking about the beheadings. ‘I saw the souls of those who had been beheaded because of their testimony about Jesus and because of the word of God.’ You think that’s what the French Revolution was about? A prophecy?”

The Pope smiled faintly, his expression enigmatic. “Prophecy often unfolds in ways we do not expect. The guillotine was not just a tool of execution; it was a symbol of man’s attempt to play God. To decide who lives and who dies. Revelation warns us of such things—of the chaos that comes when we forget the divine order.”

Felipe stepped closer, his voice low but intense. “But what about the divine order that allowed kings and queens to starve their people? What about the Church’s silence while the poor died in the streets? You can’t preach Revelation without acknowledging the sins that led to the revolution.”

The Pope met his gaze, unflinching. “And I do not deny them. The Church has blood on its hands, as do all institutions built by flawed men. But Felipe, tell me this: Does tearing down a corrupt system guarantee a just one will rise in its place? Or does it simply create a vacuum for more bloodshed?”

Felipe was silent for a moment, his mind racing. “Revolution isn’t clean. It’s not supposed to be. But sometimes, it’s the only way to wake people up. To make them see the truth.”

The Pope stood, his presence towering despite his calm demeanor. “And yet, the truth is not always found in the roar of the crowd or the fall of a blade. Revelation speaks of a thousand-year reign of peace—a time when swords will be beaten into plowshares. Tell me, Felipe, how do we reach that? Through more blood? Or through something greater?”

Felipe’s fists clenched, his voice rising. “You can’t preach peace to people who are starving. Revolution is the fire that burns away the old so something new can grow.”

The Pope walked down the steps, standing face-to-face with Felipe. “Perhaps. But fire, unchecked, consumes everything—including the innocent. Revelation 20 warns us not just of beheadings, but of the final judgment. The true revolution is not of this world, Felipe. It begins within. It is a revolution of the soul.”

Felipe stared at him, the weight of the words sinking in. “So what are you saying? That we should just wait for God to fix it all?”

The Pope shook his head. “No. I’m saying that every act of justice, every revolution, must be tempered with humility. With the understanding that we are not gods, but servants. The Eye of God sees all, Felipe. And in the end, it is not the guillotine that will bring justice, but the truth.”

The room fell silent, the echoes of their conversation lingering like a prayer unanswered. Felipe turned to leave, his mind a storm of thoughts.

As he stepped into the Vatican courtyard, he looked up at the sky. The revolution was far from over—but perhaps, for the first time, he saw it not just as a battle of flesh and blood, but of spirit and purpose.