The new film Broken Mary: The Kevin Matthews Story is a rags-to-riches story captured in a riveting documentary. This is not a typical such story that deals with money — this tale grapples with the soul of radio personality Kevin Matthews, once the king of broadcasters in Chicago.

For nearly two decades, Matthews was the major network radio personality in the Windy City and surrounding area. Clip after clip, and insight from different people, follows his climb to the top of the ranks with his daily antics on the “The Loop.” His listeners were literally in the millions — an estimated 10 million, to be more exact.

But once the film’s recap of his career teeters on the brink of being tedious, with the constant repetition of clips from radio antics that spilled out into other public venues, the view changes to get the picture of how his life and work were on a roller coaster headed for a brick wall. In a way, it did. In 2005 he was fired, his health took a major nosedive, and, in 2008, he was diagnosed with multiple sclerosis.

At this point, the adage about hitting rock bottom before being able to look up applies. What’s to come is hinted at at the beginning of the film. It opens with a figure of a man who has seen the proverbial better days, pulling a cart with a statue of Mary on it. The statue is broken, and, obviously, so is the life of the man pulling it along.

But back to that final fall on the rocks near the film’s midpoint: Although it might not be readily apparent, viewers are seeing a real-life reflection of the Prodigal Son Parable, but with a difference.

What brings Matthews to his senses? Seeing a statue of the Blessed Virgin Mary that is broken and out in an alley next to a dumpster. He must have it. He is able to “rescue” it. But it takes no more than putting two and two together to realize the real rescuer is the Blessed Mother, getting a prodigal son’s attention through an image of her that needs rescuing.

The visuals and incidents that follow in this documentary take up a humanity and spirituality that leave much to think about after the last reel runs out. For example, as Matthews has the statue restored, it becomes a mirror and model of his life being restored.

At the same time, the idea that he never has the statue fully restored, but leaves some of it “broken” as he found it, slowly reveals that prodigal Kevin’s rebuilding of his life — he was a non-practicing Catholic — is a step-by-step process and a climb worth making.

What also helps make this true story stand out with its theme — that broken lives can be repaired and that prodigals will always have the help of the Blessed Mother and her Son if they ask it — are the interviews that play a major part in the documentary. Matthews himself appears to share parts of his story. His sincerity and obvious change of heart and life from his wild days is moving as well as inspiring. His story emphasizes that, despite circumstances, there is always hope.

It may not be put into these words, but throughout there is the unspoken lesson that anyone can change even if they have hit rock bottom. The idea is that once they get the invitation, as he did — besides the statue, the other “nudges” are best left for viewers to discover — they have to act on it.

And act he did. Heartwarming footage captures what happened once people began to hear his reclamation story. He and Father Joshua Caswell, of the Canons Regular of St. John Cantius, at St. John Cantius Church organized a “There Is Hope for the Broken” walk from the church through Chicago’s streets. City and state police, firefighters and first responders carried the “Broken Mary” statue placed atop a bed of roses. Thousands of people joined the walk, praying several Rosaries and singing Ave Maria.

The footage of this beautiful event in 2019 brings to life the film’s message of hope and devotion to Our Lady that rescued and restored Matthews as he rescued and partially restored her statue.

Two essential interviews appear in the documentary. One is with now-retired Father Mark Przybysz, who was Matthews’ pastor when he returned to the Church. The other priest with plentiful insights about Matthews and the events that transpired is Father Caswell, now superior general of the Canons Regular of St. John Cantius at St. John Cantius Church. Here, especially, images offer their own commentary in this film. Contrasted with a few of the stark images early on during the decline of Matthews, the magnificence of this church where Father Caswell is interviewed becomes yet another symbol of the life change possible, the prodigal’s rise from worldly rags to spiritual riches.

What naturally add to the film’s strength and message are the many parts where Matthews appears and, transformed from the boisterous radio personality of old, tells his story in a simple, genuine and honest way.

There are what appear to be some surprises in the film, but in hindsight they are not really surprises. The film gives a sample of Matthews’ appearance at a church to share his story with parishioners. He has met with many other groups in many places to give his moving testimony: not only to show them what he has done and how he got to be where he is now, but to tie everything together with a Marian theme, one that vividly includes the Rosary (which he prays on his website), and how his life — and theirs — is not without hope; they too can go from the rags of lie to the riches of life.

Throughout its last half, the documentary has such memorable scenes, reflecting on those spiritual riches that Matthews has been able to now claim, and that should inspire every viewer with the same hope and intent to do the same, and including what happened to the statue of the “Broken Mary.”

WATCH

Broken Mary – The Kevin Matthews Story plays in theaters nationwide on — fittingly — Oct. 7, feast of Our Lady of the Rosary.