‘Down The Arm Of God’ review: Caleb Landry Jones co-writes and stars in well-intentioned US homelessness drama

Dir: Peter Brunner. France, US. 2026. 106mins

Stark statistics at the end of Down The Arm Of God note that officially one in every 435 people in the US is experiencing homelessness, although the actual figure is likely to be much higher. Peter Brunner’s drama, which is inspired by real events, embraces the complexity of this issue and the multifaceted lives of those who are faced with it via the story of a single church community who do not all take kindly to being pushed out of their comfort zone.

An empathetic and humanistic portrait of a complicated issue 

Developed over five years alongside grassroots organisations, the film features an ensemble cast including those with lived experience of homelessness playing fictional characters rooted in their own backgrounds. This approach adds a compelling authenticity that recalls the similar development used by Chloé Zhao for Nomadland, even if Brunner’s more melodramatic story arc may not be for everyone.

A passion project collaboration between Brunner and his star Caleb Landry Jones, who also co-wrote the screenplay, Down The Hand Of God takes its bow in Locarno’s Piazza Grande. Although handled within a very specific US framework, its timely subject matter and the presence of Landry Jones, plus Luc Besson as a producer, should help it pique the interest of distributors at home and abroad. The pair are also determined for it to be a conversation starter, working with non-profit organisation The Art Of Elysium to create a ’companion curriculum’ to engage audiences with issues surrounding homelessness following screenings.

Landry Jones, who previously starred in Brunner’s more overtly experimental To The Night, plays Nick, a pastor who takes up a new position in a church community in a small town in Texas. The rat poison he’s given as a welcome gift could be taken as a harbinger of what is to come when circumstances set him on a collision course with some of his new congregants.

Shooting in winter, Brunner takes time to give a feel for the chilly Texan landscape, often handsomely captured in the half light by cinematographer Peter Flinckenberg. The sense of cold is important, as Nick soon stumbles upon a homeless encampment near the town and meets Raven (India Marie Cross), one of the key members of that community. Nick has very personal reasons for wanting to help and, initially, almost all of his congregation are onboard with the idea of pot luck suppers, healthcare help and handouts.

When a winter storm threatens to hit, however, Nick decides to take things up a notch, inviting members from the encampment to take permanent shelter in the church. Brunner doesn’t shy away from the issues facing the unhoused, with some experiencing physical and mental health challenges or addiction issues that can be disruptive. In the film’s warmest segment, however, the filmmaker also shows how bonded and tight this little community is, looking out for one another in small but crucial ways. Their ability to care for each other is in contrast to a social security system which offers no respite.

Compassion proves to be harder in practice than in theory for some of the churchgoers, including Chris (Nick Stahl) and Anna (Mena Survari) who are increasingly hostile to the church’s new residents, and horrified by their own son’s sympathy towards them. Another unpredictable presence is army veteran John (played by real-life Marine war veteran John Jones), whose alcohol issues and trauma fuel his volatility. As anger and resentments mount, problems become inevitable – although Brunner shows you never quite know in what way things will flare up.

The authenticity of the supporting cast is so successful that it has the unfortunate effect of highlighting the manufactured nature of some of the surrounding story. Nick’s relationship with his father, for example, is rather too neat in a film that is at its strongest when unpredictable. The pastor’s personal issues also feel like an unnecessary embellishment in a story already freighted with incident. Nevertheless, this is an empathetic and humanistic portrait of a complicated issue that opens the floor for debate.