Spotlight at 10: Tom McCarthy Says the Catholic Church Still Hasn’t Done Enough

Ten years ago, a quiet, methodical film about newspaper reporters beat out The Revenant and Mad Max: Fury Road to win Best Picture at the Academy Awards. Spotlight wasn’t flashy. It didn’t have sweeping landscapes or explosive action. It had something far more powerful: the truth. And now, a decade later, the man who brought that truth to the screen is asking an uncomfortable question — did it actually change anything?

Tom McCarthy’s Spotlight told the true story of the Boston Globe’s investigative reporting team that uncovered the massive scandal of child molestation and cover-up within the Catholic Archdiocese of Boston. The film was a critical and commercial success, earning $98 million worldwide on a $20 million budget and winning two Oscars, including Best Picture. It was praised for its restrained, unflinching portrayal of journalism at its best — reporters doing the hard, unglamorous work of holding power accountable.

But at the New York Film Festival this past weekend, McCarthy made it clear that he doesn’t consider the story over. Speaking at the premiere of his new film A Statement, the director reflected on Spotlight‘s legacy with a mix of pride and frustration.

“I’ve heard from a lot of people who saw the movie. A lot of people who felt understood after the movie was released,” McCarthy told Variety. “Has it caused a lot of change within the Catholic Church? In my opinion, not really. Not enough. It’s not enough until every child is safe, as far as I’m concerned. And that’s a zero-sum game. So, I would like to see more change.”

It’s a striking admission from a director whose film is widely credited with bringing global attention to the Catholic Church abuse crisis. When Spotlight was released in November 2015, it arrived at a moment when the Church was already under intense scrutiny. The Boston Globe’s real-life “Spotlight” team had won the Pulitzer Prize for Public Service in 2003, and the scandal had been the subject of numerous books and documentaries. But McCarthy’s film brought the story to a mass audience in a way that no previous work had managed.

The Film That Made Journalism Cinematic

What made Spotlight so effective was its refusal to sensationalize. McCarthy, who co-wrote the film with Josh Singer, understood that the story’s power lay in its accumulation of detail — the painstaking process of reporters following paper trails, knocking on doors, and building a case piece by piece. There were no car chases, no dramatic courtroom confrontations. Just reporters doing their jobs.

The ensemble cast was perfectly assembled. Michael Keaton played Walter “Robby” Robinson, the editor who led the investigation. Rachel McAdams was Sacha Pfeiffer, one of the reporters who interviewed victims. Mark Ruffalo played Michael Rezendes, the relentless reporter who pursued the story with obsessive focus. Liev Schreiber, John Slattery, and Billy Crudall rounded out a cast that made journalism look like the most important work in the world.

The film’s most powerful scenes weren’t the big dramatic moments — they were the quiet ones. A reporter sitting across from a survivor, listening to their story. A editor staring at a wall of documents, realizing the scope of the cover-up. A phone call that confirms what the team has been suspecting all along. These moments resonated because they felt true, and they were true — the film was meticulously researched and fact-checked.

If you appreciate films about journalism and institutional accountability, Spotlight sits alongside The Post and The Insider as one of the definitive entries in the genre. Like those films, it understands that the real drama isn’t in the revelation — it’s in the process of getting there.

A Decade of Disappointment

McCarthy’s comments at NYFF suggest that the years since Spotlight‘s release have been marked by frustration. The Catholic Church has taken some steps in response to the scandal — Pope Francis has met with victims, the Vatican has established new protocols, and some bishops have been removed from office. But McCarthy argues that these measures fall short of what’s needed.

The director’s point is structural, not just about individual cases. The systemic issues that allowed abuse to be covered up for decades — the culture of secrecy, the protection of institutional reputation over victim safety, the hierarchical structures that made accountability nearly impossible — these remain largely intact. McCarthy’s “zero-sum game” framing is deliberate: partial measures, however well-intentioned, don’t constitute real change.

It’s worth noting that McCarthy isn’t dismissing the film’s impact entirely. He emphasized that many survivors have told him the film made them feel seen and understood. That matters. But he draws a clear line between individual healing and institutional reform — and it’s the latter that he believes has failed to materialize.

The Conversation Continues

McCarthy’s new film, A Statement, which premiered at NYFF on October 3, 2026, takes on another systemic issue: climate change. The film follows a group of experts working to draft a unified statement for Congress about the impact of carbon dioxide emissions. McCarthy described it as a spiritual successor to Spotlight in its approach — taking a complex, often abstract issue and making it human and urgent.

“This movie doesn’t preach,” McCarthy said. “There is a right and wrong here, but we want people to come to the table and have that conversation and listen.”

It’s a philosophy that has defined McCarthy’s career. From Spotlight to The Visitor to Win Win, his films have always been about people grappling with systems larger than themselves — and the small, stubborn acts of integrity that can, occasionally, make those systems bend.

Ten years on, Spotlight remains one of the most important films of the 2010s — not because it solved the problem it depicted, but because it refused to look away from it. And McCarthy’s willingness to call out the lack of progress, rather than resting on his laurels, is its own form of integrity.

The question he’s asking isn’t really about a movie. It’s about what we owe each other — and whether a film, however powerful, can ever be enough to protect the vulnerable. The answer, he seems to suggest, is that it can’t. But that doesn’t mean we stop trying.

If you’re revisiting Spotlight or watching it for the first time, it’s worth pairing with other films about investigative journalism and institutional accountability. Zodiac captures the obsessive toll of chasing a story that may never have a clean resolution. Good Night, and Good Luck shows journalism as a moral act in the face of political pressure. And Spotlight itself remains the gold standard — a film that proved the most powerful stories are often the quietest ones.

The reporters in Spotlight didn’t set out to make a movie. They set out to tell the truth. A decade later, that truth still demands to be heard.