So, who figured that Pope Leo XIV would end up being kind of cool? Not me. Although as a lapsed Catholic I had little stake in the conclave race, I felt that there was something unglamorous, dare I say godless, about a first-ever supreme pontiff born in the US, let alone one hailing from Chicago, the same city as Hugh Hefner, Hillary Clinton and Kanye West. There were greater apprehensions beyond taste, too. Would this finally be the ordination of the reinvigorated Maga movement after the death of the compassionate Pope Francis? When Leo appeared on the balcony of St Peter’s Basilica wearing the traditional red mozzetta cape eschewed by his predecessor, it was too easy to jump to conclusions.

By the grace of God, the red mozzetta was a red herring. Very quickly, American conservatives went into meltdown over the pope’s patent anti-Maga leanings and his empathy for migrants and marginalised groups – “anti-Trump, anti-Maga, pro-open borders and a total Marxist,” fumed far-right activist Laura Loomer. That alone has been a relief. But perhaps even more significantly, Leo has demonstrated the benefits an American bishop of Rome can have for the rest of us, Christian, Catholic or otherwise: that is through his exemplary cultural leadership, and close engagement with the arts.

The Vatican had already released a list of Leo’s favourite films that included The Sound of Music and Ordinary People. Then, last weekend, he summoned Hollywood stars to the Vatican including Spike Lee, Darren Aronofsky, Cate Blanchett and Greta Gerwig. Even more striking is what he said when addressing this audience, telling them that over time film had evolved into “an expression of the desire to contemplate and understand life, to recount its greatness and fragility and to portray the longing for infinity”. He encouraged film-makers to not shy away from the difficult subjects of violence, isolation and poverty. And he also spoke of “beauty” as an “invocation” and art as a remedy for our digital age, stating: “The logic of algorithms tends to repeat what ‘works’, but art opens up what is possible. Not everything has to be immediate or predictable.” These are curious times indeed when Hollywood flails, algorithms and AI proliferate, and the pope, of all people, has to remind us what art is for.

In a world where political leaders are continually preaching the need for aggressive innovation and investment in AI, and where our algorithmic universe constantly threatens us with terrible art (Disney+ has announced plans to stream user-generated AI content), what a relief it is to find a shepherd for inquisitive works made by creative minds, for art that meets a balance of taste, nuance, meaning and wonder. “It’s going to be very difficult to discover the presence of God in AI,” he said in his first interview after being elected, or in other words, you offend the Lord with your artless slop.

Leo wants to “deepen dialogue with the world of cinema”. He recently spoke of the need to move “beyond stereotypes and cliches” in media representations of the church and Christian life. So could our American pope be soft-launching plans for a collaboration between the Vatican and Hollywood? It would surely represent something of a ceasefire between the Holy See and pop culture; where The Da Vinci Code, the Twilight series and Madonna’s Like A Prayer had drawn condemnation, it seems that Leo might take a more participatory approach. After all, it was reported by his brother that he watched papal thriller Conclave in preparation of his own sequestering, and the film, despite some of its salacious details and depiction of corrupt cardinals, hasn’t been condemned by Rome.

What an opportune moment it is, too, to spearhead Catholicism as a medium for artistic sensitivity, taste and empathy. Widely considered the album of the year, Catalan pop singer Rosalía’s new project, Lux, has been heralded for its embrace of Catholic spirituality and invocation of the divine, with its tracks mapping on to the lives of female saints including Saint Olga of Kyiv, Saint Rose of Lima and Saint Hildegard of Bingen. The song Mio Cristo Piange Diamanti, translated to “My Christ cries diamonds”, explores the relationship between Saint Francis and Saint Clare of Assisi, using it as the basis for dialogues about platonic love, spiritual connection and the pain that comes with it. To my mind, Catholicism’s cachet over other denominations has always lay in its appreciation of beauty and glamour – Rosalía and the pope might have different aims and followers but arrive at a similar purpose. Perhaps their next audience should be with each other.

It was reported this week that New Yorkers are turning to the church, with priests saying that there are soaring numbers of Catholic converts. The idea is that in a world of chaos and polarisation, where everything seems to be falling apart, faith and its ceremonies are providing a sense of balance, calm and clarity amid the storm. It is a purpose well complemented by Leo’s messaging on the arts. Is this tempting me back to mass, or to dig out an old rosary and recite the Apostles’ Creed? No. But in an age seemingly starved of beauty and steadiness, it is strangely heartening to find, in the bishop of Rome, an unlikely custodian of culture. And hey, maybe he and Aronofsky are cooking up something to save Hollywood, as well as our souls.