The King of Kings – Film Review
Published April 15, 2025

Seong-ho Jang’s The King of Kings is an ambitious animated film that seeks to combine biblical storytelling with literary nostalgia. Loosely inspired by The Life of Our Lord, a lesser-known religious work by Charles Dickens written for his children, the film weaves together faith, fiction, and familial reconciliation in a package that is at times stirring and poignant, but also burdened by tonal shifts and narrative unevenness. With a star-studded voice cast and a bold visual style, the film is a heartfelt attempt to bring the life of Jesus Christ to a younger audience—but doesn’t always reach the heights it strives for.
The film opens with an energetic framing device: Charles Dickens (voiced by Kenneth Branagh) is delivering a stage reading of A Christmas Carol, bringing a familiar warmth and theatrical gravitas. However, his young son Walter (voiced by Jojo Rabbit‘s Roman Griffin Davis) creates chaos backstage, pretending to be King Arthur. The tension between father and son is clear, with Walter’s imaginative spirit clashing with Dickens’ need for order and public decorum.
This domestic conflict becomes the impetus for the film’s central narrative. At the advice of his wife Catherine (Uma Thurman, lending elegance to a smaller role), Dickens decides to reconnect with his son by telling him the story of the “King of Kings”—Jesus Christ—through the lens of royal storytelling. What follows is a vivid, often fantastical retelling of Christ’s life, as filtered through a child’s imagination and the elaborate storytelling voice of Dickens himself.
It’s also oftentimes quite a stunning film. The animation blends traditional hand-drawn styles with computer-enhanced textures, reminiscent of the painterly aesthetic seen in films like The Little Prince or Klaus. Seong-ho Jang brings an artistic sensibility that sets the film apart from many contemporary Christian animated features, which often settle for flat, uninspired visuals.
The environments are lush and layered, from the shimmering deserts of Bethlehem to the crowded, oppressive halls of Herod’s court. There’s a dreamlike quality to the entire journey, fitting the notion that this story is partially taking place within Walter’s imagination. Willa the cat, Walter’s loyal companion, adds a whimsical touch—serving both as comic relief and an emotional anchor for the young protagonist’s perspective.
That said, the film’s tone sometimes vacillates between reverent and overly theatrical. At times, it feels like The Prince of Egypt by way of Dickensian melodrama, and the result can be jarring. The decision to portray some biblical scenes with intense, operatic flair (such as the Last Supper or the Crucifixion) contrasts sharply with the more playful and fantastical sequences seen earlier in the film. While the creative risks are admirable, they don’t always coalesce smoothly.
One of the film’s greatest assets is its exceptional voice cast. Kenneth Branagh brings sincerity and nuance to Charles Dickens, imbuing the character with both moral authority and personal vulnerability. His scenes with Roman Griffin Davis feel authentic, capturing the evolving dynamic between father and son in a manner that grounds the film’s loftier themes.
Oscar Isaac’s portrayal of Jesus Christ is another standout. With warmth, humility, and gravitas, Isaac’s voice performance offers a deeply human portrayal of Jesus—never overly sanctimonious, but always imbued with a quiet strength. His presence brings emotional weight to key scenes.
Mark Hamill delivers an appropriately menacing turn as King Herod, though the performance leans a bit theatrical for younger viewers. It’s admirable, though, because after all, we all know that Hamill loves to be a bit extra in the recording booth. Similarly, Pierce Brosnan plays Pontius Pilate with a detached arrogance, and Ben Kingsley is icily effective as Caiaphas, the High Priest. Forest Whitaker’s Peter, full of doubt and loyalty, provides one of the film’s more layered supporting characters.
Yet, the film doesn’t always make full use of this talent. Some characters appear briefly and exit quickly, making their contributions feel more like high-profile cameos than fully fleshed-out roles.
The central theme—redefining kingship through the life and sacrifice of Christ—is thoughtfully explored. Walter’s initial fascination with traditional kings and power gives way to a deeper, more spiritual understanding of what it means to be a “king.” This evolution is mirrored in his reactions to Jesus’ teachings and, ultimately, his crucifixion. The film smartly positions Jesus not just as a moral exemplar, but as a transformative figure in the eyes of a child learning what true greatness looks like.
The crucifixion sequence is depicted with considerable restraint and sensitivity for a younger audience. While emotionally powerful, it avoids gratuitous imagery, focusing instead on Walter’s struggle to comprehend suffering and death. His eventual realization—sparked by witnessing the Resurrection—is handled with care, offering a moving payoff to his inner journey.
The message of salvation is clear but not heavy-handed. The film allows space for questions, grief, and growth—showing that faith, like storytelling, is a journey shaped by experience and reflection.
The King of Kings is clearly aimed at families, particularly Christian households looking for faith-based content that goes beyond the didactic. It succeeds in offering a respectful yet imaginative retelling of the Gospel, one that invites children to engage emotionally and spiritually without oversimplifying the material.
However, the dual storytelling framework—the Dickens family drama and the biblical epic—sometimes muddies the pacing. Younger children might find the film’s structure confusing, while older viewers may wish for more cohesion or narrative momentum.
It’s also worth noting that the film, while drawing from The Life of Our Lord, only loosely adheres to Dickens’ tone and prose. This might disappoint viewers expecting more of a literary adaptation. Instead, Jang uses Dickens’ premise as a springboard for a broader moral parable about storytelling, family, and faith.
Seong-ho Jang’s The King of Kings is a noble and sincere work that solidly blends reverence with creativity. Its flaws—uneven tone, pacing issues, and occasional narrative bloat—prevent it from fully realizing its potential. But at its best, it offers moments of beauty, insight, and emotional power, especially for audiences open to viewing Christ’s story through a more imaginative, childlike lens.
With its striking animation, powerful voice performances (especially from Oscar Isaac and Kenneth Branagh), and a heartfelt core message about divine kingship and personal transformation, The King of Kings is a solid time at the movies. It’s not a perfect film, but it is a memorable and worthwhile one, particularly for families seeking a new way to reflect on this story.