Last Updated on February 19, 2026 by Monica Castillo
I Can Only Imagine 2 is Rated PG by Motion Picture Rating (MPA) for thematic material and some language.
I went into this sequel half-expecting not to see it at all. Faith-based follow-ups don’t always make their way to critics, and I had quietly assumed this one might slip past without a screening. So when a screener did land, it felt less like an invitation and more like a mild curiosity one worth indulging if only because I try to watch as broadly as possible. I remembered seeing the original I Can Only Imagine when it became an unexpected box-office phenomenon, though the details had faded, and I couldn’t even confirm whether I’d formally reviewed it. Still, the sheer size of that first film’s success, combined with my general affection for stories about music and songwriting, made this sequel hard to ignore. I didn’t have the time or the inclination to revisit the first movie beforehand, so I hoped this new chapter might ease viewers back into the story. It tries, in a cursory, almost apologetic way, though the effort feels half-hearted.
The film drops us back into the life of Bart Millard, again played by John Michael Finley, now well past the death of his father and basking in the long afterglow of his band’s breakthrough. MercyMe’s signature hit has turned into a career, even inspiring a follow-up anthem, “I Can Only Imagine 2,” and Bart seems, at least on the surface, secure. That stability is shaken when his son Sam is diagnosed with diabetes. The film then jumps forward in time, where Sam now a surly teenager portrayed by Sam Dell has begun dabbling in music himself. Bart, meanwhile, is stalled creatively, allegedly stuck in a songwriter’s drought that the film insists on without quite earning. MercyMe has somehow continued releasing album after album and selling out large venues, which makes Bart’s supposed creative paralysis feel more like a convenient plot device than a believable crisis.
Family life has expanded as well more children, more responsibilities and Bart decides, with a mix of concern and control, to bring Sam along on tour to ensure he’s managing his condition properly. This decision becomes the film’s central source of tension. On the road, they’re joined by opening act Tim Timmons, played by Milo Ventimiglia, whose wide-eyed admiration for Bart borders on reverence. As outsiders to MercyMe’s inner circle, Tim and Sam gravitate toward each other, forming a bond through shared music-making before the headliner takes the stage each night. You can feel the movie perk up whenever the focus shifts to these quieter, more human exchanges.
Highly Recommended: The Dreadful (2026) Parents Guide
Much of what follows feels like an obligatory extension of themes already covered the first time around. Bart wrestles with fatherhood, haunted by the same emotional patterns that defined his relationship with his own dad. Dennis Quaid appears briefly in flashbacks, a ghostly reminder of unresolved wounds. But the repetition of father-son conflict, without any real evolution, doesn’t carry much weight. Instead, the film settles into the rhythms of touring life bus rides, backstage moments, familiar beats that blur together. Despite what punk rock once promised, touring here is anything but invigorating, and it’s hard not to feel the drag.
One of the film’s more persistent challenges is Finley himself. As Bart, he lacks the magnetism needed to anchor a story like this, and if he was more compelling in the original, it hasn’t translated here. The filmmakers seem aware of this, wisely shifting attention toward Ventimiglia’s Tim and the younger Sam, whose relationship has a natural ease the rest of the movie strains to achieve. Still, the narrative is riddled with what might be called blink-and-you-miss-it conflicts moments of apparent crisis that resolve almost as soon as they appear. When Sam becomes seriously ill and falls from a ladder, it seems poised to reshape the story. Instead, it’s brushed aside, consequence-free, and the film moves on.
Ventimiglia brings an easy charm and presence that immediately stands out, and Trace Adkins, as band manager Scott Brickell, often walks away with scenes simply by virtue of having a defined personality. Whenever either of them is onscreen, you’re reminded how flat much of the surrounding material feels.
What ultimately grates most is how freely the film bends real-life details in service of drama. The liberties are so conspicuous they invite distraction. The timeline of MercyMe’s milestones is reshuffled, songwriting credits are simplified to the point of erasure, and Tim Timmons’ real-life cancer diagnosis something that occurred decades earlier is repositioned as a convenient emotional lever during this tour. It’s even acknowledged in the end credits, which only makes the manipulation more glaring. Giving thanks to God doesn’t require sidelining the very real people who contributed to these songs, and it’s hard not to notice when history is rewritten simply because the truth wasn’t dramatic enough.
If you’re committed to telling a true story, consistency matters. Deviating this often only underscores how thin the core narrative is. The central conflict yet another round of father-son friction marches inevitably toward an ending so telegraphed it barely qualifies as suspense. You can see it coming long before the film catches up, and by the time it arrives, it lands with a thud of sentimentality rather than any earned catharsis.
Recommended: How to Make a Killing (2026) Parents Guide
Schmaltz, in this genre, is almost a given, and even the factual embellishments might be forgivable if the film were more engaging. What’s harder to overlook is how dull it often is. There’s a creeping sense that the story behind the creation of “I Can Only Imagine” may have been the only chapter of Bart Millard’s life that truly warranted cinematic treatment.
I Can Only Imagine 2 (2026) Parents Guide
Violence & Intensity: There’s no conventional violence, but the film does contain moments of medical and emotional intensity that may register strongly with younger viewers. A recurring storyline involving a child’s diabetes includes scenes of illness, hospitalization, and parental fear. One incident involving a fall from a ladder briefly raises the stakes before resolving quickly. The tension is more psychological than physical, rooted in strained family dynamics and the anxiety of a parent trying to protect a child while also controlling him. You can feel the stress even when the film doesn’t linger on it.
Language: There are a handful of emotionally charged arguments where frustration and disappointment are expressed sharply, but outright profanity is limited and restrained. No slurs are used. The tone may occasionally feel heavy or accusatory during father-son conflicts, which could resonate more than expected with sensitive viewers.
Sexual Content / Nudity: There is no sexual content or nudity. Romantic relationships exist only in the background and are portrayed in a wholesome, non-physical way. The film remains firmly focused on family, faith, and personal struggle.
Drugs, Alcohol & Smoking: There is minimal to no depiction of drug use. Alcohol may appear incidentally in adult social settings, but it’s neither emphasized nor glamorized. Smoking is not a significant presence. Medical treatment and prescription medication related to diabetes are shown and discussed responsibly.
Age Recommendations: While rated PG, this film is best suited for ages 10 and up, depending on a child’s tolerance for emotional themes.
Overall, I Can Only Imagine 2 is content-appropriate for families seeking a faith-based film, but its emotional weight not its imagery is what parents should consider most carefully.
I Can Only Imagine 2 opens nationwide on Friday, February 20.
