At first glance, Denis Villeneuve's Arrival is a science fiction thriller involving aliens and geopolitical tension. But beneath the surface lies something deeper—a quiet meditation on grief, sacrifice, and the dignity of human life.
Released in 2016, the film follows esteemed college professor and linguist Dr. Louise Banks, played by Amy Adams, who is recruited by the U.S. military to help communicate with extraterrestrial visitors known as “heptapods.” As she learns their language—a circular, non-linear form of contact—her mind begins to shift. Time becomes fluid, and the past, present, and future warp into one. With this comes a chilling and beautiful revelation: Louise sees the life and death of her daughter whom she has not yet conceived. What unfolds is not a typical alien invasion like we’ve seen before. Instead, it’s a deeply moving story about motherhood and love—with resonances coming from a pro-life or faith-based perspective that may surprise viewers.
The Sacredness of Life in the Midst of Mystery
Without spoiling the plot twist, Arrival asks a haunting question: If you could see your whole life from start to finish, would you change things? It’s this question, asked by Louise, that becomes the heart of the film. It echoes deeply within the hearts of anyone who has loved and lost people dear to them.
For Louise, the answer comes in the form of a child. The film’s nonlinear structure slowly reveals that her daughter, Hannah, dies at a young age from a rare illness unbeknownst to the audience. This is discovered not as a tragic figure from her past, but rather from her future. Louise sees her daughter’s life before she even conceives her—and accepts the pain—and happiness—that comes with it. This act, powerfully portrayed, is nothing less than an embrace of life, regardless of what comes with it. Having full knowledge of the grief she will endure for her daughter, Louise chooses to play her part in the timeline without trying to alter anything.
The Echoes of Theology
Though Arrival doesn't present itself as a religious film, its themes resonate deeply with Catholic theology. The entire plot hinges on the mystery of time. In Catholic tradition, it mirrors the way God sees time all at once, while we move through time linearly. There’s a clear parallel between the way Louise learns the alien language—which rewires her perception of time—and the Catholic call to adopt a new way of seeing the world through love and eternal meaning. What Arrival subtly suggests is that when we step outside of our limited view of time, we can see the beauty of every moment, even the sorrowful ones. This can lead to a profoundly spiritual and sacramental view of life. The more Louise learns the alien’s way of communicating, the more she sees time not linearly, but as intimately present in every moment. For Louise, suffering doesn’t become avoidable; it becomes more meaningful.
Louise’s foreknowledge of her daughter’s life and death echoes a divine paradox. God can see man’s suffering and still say that human life is good. Even amidst the sin and suffering in the world, our lives have profound meaning. It also calls to mind Mary’s fiat, her yes to life, her yes to suffering, even though it would pierce her heart.
This is when Arrival quietly echoes the Catholic view of redemptive suffering: the idea that love often beckons us to enter into pain willingly, not because suffering is good in itself, but because it’s part of a greater whole. The film reminds us that when we start to see life as something we should receive, not control, we begin to see its beauty even in its most broken parts. Louise sees the happiness her child will bring her, as well as the sorrow of her unavoidable death, and she decides to pursue that future.
Pro-Life Without Preaching
Arrival does not use slogans or make arguments. It tells a story which values the full arc of the human experience, from birth to death, joy to grief. There’s no explicit mention of abortion or politics, but in a culture that measures life by its longevity, this film’s emotional climax reads as profoundly pro-life. Louise’s decision to bring a child into the world, knowing full well that child would die at a young age, speaks in a deeper, sacrificial sense of choosing life for what it is:
“Despite the journey—and where it leads—I embrace it. And I welcome every moment of it.”
Louise doesn’t cling to comfort. She views life with all its joys and heartbreaks and says yes. This quiet yes echoes the fiat of our Mother Mary: “Let it be with me according to your word” (Luke 1:38). This kind of love knows the cost and still says, “You are worth it.” We do not choose life because it is free of suffering; we choose it because we are willing to love even when it hurts.
“I forgot how good it felt to be held by you.”
This line, spoken by Louise to her future husband, speaks of the intimacy and vulnerability of being truly known—something we are invited into not just by loved ones, but by God. The film shows us that being held is not a weakness, but it is the very foundation of hope.
For women—particularly those trying to live intentionally—Arrival offers a rare kind of cinematic encouragement: to welcome suffering, welcome motherhood, and welcome life even in the face of death. In a world that measures the value of human life by comfort, ease, or potential, Arrival offers a radical, Catholic counter-narrative that life is worth living even when it ends in loss.
Victoria Cardona holds a bachelor's and master's degree in theology from Ave Maria University, with minors in education and catechetics. She is currently pursuing a master's in educational leadership at St. Thomas University. Victoria is a published writer, with her work primarily featured on Caeli, Magdala, and The Star of Bethlehem, where her reflections explore themes of faith, beauty, and discipleship. She draws strength in the lives of the Saints, the beauty of Adoration, and the quiet strength of our Lady, as she strives to live each day with gratitude, simplicity, and joy.
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