The Best Portrayals Of Jesus Christ In Movies And TV

1-12

Ignacio Weil

Entertainment - December 29th 2025, 20:00 GMT+1

Jesus 1999 cropped processed by imagy — 12. Jesus (1999)

Playing Jesus on TV comes with a built-in chorus of expectations, and this miniseries answers by leaning into something surprisingly disarming: approachability. Jeremy Sisto’s portrayal goes for warmth and immediacy—less distant icon, more someone who laughs, grieves, and reacts like a real person standing in front of other real people. The script blends the four Gospels but isn’t afraid to add extra moments meant to highlight the human side, which gives the performance room to breathe instead of marching from miracle to miracle on a checklist. It also helps that the tone stays conversational: you can feel the relationships with the disciples as relationships, not just tableau. If you’re looking up “best Jesus portrayals” and want one that feels emotionally legible without turning into a lecture, this one fits—serious when it needs to be, but not frozen in reverence. And yes, it occasionally risks being *too* modern in energy, but that’s part of the point: it’s aiming for connection, not distance. | © Lux Vide

The Gospel According to St Matthew 1964 cropped processed by imagy — 11. The Gospel According to St Matthew (1964)

This one doesn’t feel like it’s trying to dazzle you into belief; it feels like it’s trying to corner you into paying attention. The style is spare, the faces look lived-in, and the whole thing has that bracing “no frills, no velvet curtains” energy that makes every stare and silence feel louder. Enrique Irazoqui plays Jesus with a stern intensity that’s almost confrontational—less cozy comfort, more moral urgency—so the words land like challenges rather than soft reassurances. The performance isn’t interested in smoothing the edges, and that’s the point: this is a Jesus who disrupts rooms, not one who politely decorates them. It’s also oddly modern in how direct it feels, like the film refuses to let reverence become distance. If you want a portrayal that’s serious, demanding, and strangely alive, this is one of the sharpest. | © Arco Film

King of Kings 1961 cropped processed by imagy — 10. King of Kings (1961)

Epic-scale biblical cinema has a specific flavor: sweeping music, enormous sets, and the sense that the sky itself has a lighting crew. Jeffrey Hunter’s Jesus fits that tradition—calm, luminous, and composed in the way classic Hollywood often preferred for sacred roles. What makes his portrayal memorable isn’t flamboyance; it’s the steady certainty, like the character is carrying an unshakable center while the world around him spirals into politics, fear, and spectacle. The film frames Jesus as a figure people project onto—hope, threat, miracle, nuisance—and Hunter’s performance holds that pressure without turning brittle. It’s a grand, reverent interpretation that plays well with the movie’s scale, where even a pause feels orchestrated. If you want “classic big-screen Jesus,” this is practically the blueprint. | © Samuel Bronston Productions

Jesus Christ Superstar 1973 cropped processed by imagy — 9. Jesus Christ Superstar (1973)

Rock opera Jesus is a different job description: you’re not only acting; you’re singing doubt, exhaustion, and destiny at full volume while the story moves like a concert that accidentally became theology. Ted Neeley’s portrayal is all nerve endings—intense, emotional, and visibly burdened—so the arc feels less like distant legend and more like a person being crushed by expectation in real time. The film’s style is loud and stylized, yet his performance keeps pulling it back toward something raw, especially when the character’s isolation starts showing through the spectacle. It’s also a portrayal that allows ambiguity to breathe; you can feel the questions without the movie rushing to tidy them up. If you’re searching for a Jesus performance that’s passionate, human, and unafraid of anguish, this is one of the most distinctive takes ever put on screen. | © The Robert Stigwood Organisation

Jesus of Nazareth 1977 cropped processed by imagy — 8. Jesus of Nazareth (1977)

Some portrayals become “the face” people picture for decades, and Robert Powell’s is one of those—partly because the performance is controlled, quiet, and strangely hypnotic. The miniseries format helps: instead of sprinting through highlights, it lingers, giving the character room to feel present in everyday interactions rather than only in big, iconic moments. Powell plays Jesus with a composed gentleness that can read serene or unsettling depending on the scene, which is a neat trick for a role that often gets sanded down into pure softness. The result is a Jesus who feels consistently watchable, like the calm is intentional rather than empty. It’s not a flashy interpretation, but it’s one that sticks—measured, intimate, and built to live in your memory long after the runtime. | © ITC Entertainment

The Devils 1971 cropped processed by imagy — 7. The Devils (1971)

This one needs a content-aware footnote: it isn’t a conventional “Jesus portrayal” story where Christ appears as a character with dialogue and scenes. The film is more about power, hysteria, and institutional corruption, and when Jesus imagery shows up, it’s often symbolic, provocative, and designed to unsettle rather than to depict a traditional screen version of Christ. So if you’re expecting a straightforward performance to compare with the others, this isn’t that kind of entry—there’s no central actor “playing Jesus” in the usual sense. What it *does* show is how the figure of Christ can be used (and weaponized) inside a story: as icon, as projection, as taboo, as a mirror for collective obsession. It’s an uncomfortable watch by design, and the religious imagery is part of that discomfort, not a devotional centerpiece. If the goal is “best portrayals,” this one is really “most provocative uses of Christ imagery,” and it belongs only if that’s the category you mean. | © Warner Bros.

The Passion of the Christ 2004 cropped processed by imagy — 6. The Passion of the Christ (2004)

This portrayal doesn’t aim for “comfortable,” and it definitely doesn’t take the scenic route. Jim Caviezel’s Jesus is presented through sheer physical endurance—pain, resolve, and a kind of battered stillness that keeps you watching even when you want to look away. The film’s choice to use ancient languages (and to stay locked on the final hours) makes the performance feel less like a speech and more like an experience you’re trapped inside with him. It’s intensely specific: not a broad, crowd-pleasing Jesus, but one defined by suffering and the stubborn decision to keep going. Whatever you think of the movie’s approach, Caviezel’s commitment is the engine; there’s no “actor safety net” vibe here, just full immersion. It’s a depiction that leaves marks—on the story, on the viewer, and probably on anyone who’s ever tried to rank Jesus performances without needing a long walk afterward. | © Icon Productions

Mary Mother of Jesus 1999 cropped processed by imagy — 5. Mary, Mother of Jesus (1999)

Instead of treating Jesus like a distant figure who drops in to deliver important lines, this one reframes everything through Mary’s eyes—meaning the performance has to live inside family, memory, and grief, not just miracles. Christian Bale’s Jesus comes across as youthful and intense, with an earnestness that fits the TV-movie intimacy rather than the grand marble-statue version. The portrayal works best in the quieter beats, where compassion feels like a habit instead of a headline. Because the story isn’t strictly limited to the New Testament, the film gives space to imagine how the relationship might have felt day-to-day, which makes his Jesus more emotionally legible. It’s not the most visually iconic take, but it’s one of the more relational ones—less “legend at a distance,” more “person whose choices change everyone in the room.” | © Metropolitan Productions

The Last Temptation of Christ 1988 cropped processed by imagy — 4. The Last Temptation of Christ (1988)

Some portrayals lean into serenity; this one leans into the uncomfortable fact that being human is noisy. Willem Dafoe plays Jesus with a restless intensity—thoughtful, vulnerable, sometimes visibly torn—like the role is less about delivering certainty and more about wrestling with it. The film’s whole identity is controversy, sure, but the performance is what makes it more than a provocation: Dafoe gives you a Jesus who feels burdened by choice rather than buffered by inevitability. You can sense fear, longing, and resolve colliding, which makes the spiritual stakes feel personal instead of abstract. It’s a depiction that invites argument, but it also invites empathy, which is a rarer trick than it sounds. If you want a portrayal that’s psychological, searching, and very deliberately not “polished holy postcard,” this is the one that stares back. | © Universal Pictures

The Greatest Story Ever Told 1965 cropped processed by imagy — 3. The Greatest Story Ever Told (1965)

This is Jesus on the biggest possible canvas—wide horizons, solemn pacing, and the sense that every pause has been scheduled by committee. Max von Sydow plays him with an almost sculptural calm, the kind of composed presence classic epics loved: steady gaze, measured voice, no visible panic even when the world is clearly panicking around him. The performance fits the film’s approach, which treats the story like an event of history and myth at the same time, with Jesus as the still point in all that grandeur. It’s not a portrayal built on casual warmth or everyday banter; it’s built on gravity, as if the character is carrying a quiet authority that doesn’t need to argue. When it works, it feels timeless—like the movie is trying to etch an image into stone. Even when it’s formal, it’s undeniably influential in how “epic Jesus” was framed for decades. | © George Stevens Productions

The Gospel of John 2014 cropped processed by imagy — 2. The Gospel of John (2014)

If you’ve ever wanted a Jesus portrayal that feels like it’s living inside the text—no detours, no side-quests—this one goes all in. The film is designed as a direct dramatization of John’s Gospel, with narration carrying the scripture while the scenes play out almost like a living illuminated manuscript. Selva Rasalingam’s Jesus is calm but present, with a grounded steadiness that lets the story’s big theological moments land without turning him into a floating abstraction. Because the structure is so text-forward, the acting has to communicate through looks, timing, and small shifts—less “speechifying,” more “watch how the room changes when he speaks.” It’s a portrayal that rewards attention: the performance isn’t trying to overpower the words; it’s trying to inhabit them. The result feels reverent without being stiff, like a careful adaptation that still wants the human face to matter. | © Lumo Project

The Chosen 2017 cropped processed by imagy — 1. The Chosen (2017)

This is the rare screen Jesus who gets to be around long enough to feel like someone you actually know, not just someone you visit for a set of famous scenes. Jonathan Roumie plays him with warmth, humor, and an easy emotional availability—smiles that feel earned, compassion that shows up in the small moments, and intensity that doesn’t need theatrics to register. The series format does a lot of the heavy lifting: instead of rushing through highlights, it lets relationships build, tensions simmer, and ordinary interactions carry meaning. That extra time changes the portrayal; Jesus becomes present in the texture of daily life, not only in the headline miracles. It’s also a performance that’s comfortable with gentleness without making it passive—there’s a steadiness underneath, like kindness is deliberate, not decorative. Whether you come for faith, curiosity, or character-driven drama, this version stands out because it feels lived-in, not posed. | © 5&2 Studios

1-12

Portraying Jesus Christ on screen is one of those assignments that comes with a spotlight, a magnifying glass, and a thousand opinions waiting backstage. Some versions lean into quiet compassion, others emphasize intensity and sacrifice, and a few take bold creative swings that spark debates the moment the credits roll. Either way, it’s never “just another role,” and you can usually feel that weight in the performance.

In this ranking, we’re looking at the portrayals that actually stick—the ones that feel human without losing the sense of the sacred, and dramatic without turning into a sermon-with-better-lighting. Expect a mix of classic epics, TV adaptations, and more modern takes, all chosen with one question in mind: did this performance make the story feel alive, not just familiar?