February 26, 2004
The Passion: Reviewlutions
This review is going into the Pulse for next Wednesday's issue, which means I normally wouldn't post it for another couple of weeks. But the recent discussions of The Passion have been both heated and helpful, and I'd like to continue the dialogue.
It took me a while to write this piece; I spent a lot of last night and this morning discussing the movie with friends. I was able to clarify most of my thoughts on a midnight trip to Wal-Mart for a space heater (Rye-Dawg was cold and shivery). I welcome any constructive criticism on this one; I may not take it, but I want to consider as many points of view as possible before publishing this review.
Bloody Mel
Gibson’s Passion is a devout, distinctly Medieval meditation on Jesus’ suffering
By Aaron Mesh
The Cincinnati Enquirer reported last year on a Traditionalist Catholic church in the suburbs that had erected a statue, four feet tall, of Jesus covered in wounds. Hardly an inch of the “Scourged Christ” figure was without a deep red gash – each suggesting that a chunk of skin and flesh had been ripped away, revealing muscle and bone. Parishioners were encouraged to meditate upon these lesions as an act of adoration and remembrance. “It's a real jumping board to prayer and inspiration,” said the church’s pastor. “When we look at it, it makes us see the price of our sins.”
Mel Gibson’s The Passion of the Christ, a movie that was enormously controversial long before it arrived in theaters last week, is the cinematic distillation of just such Scourged Christ statuary. It is an extended meditation on the physical suffering of Jesus, designed to generate feelings of worship and fearful gratitude. And when I say extended, I mean it: the vast majority of the film’s two hours is spent observing, in intimate detail, the shredding of the flesh from the Messiah’s body. The film’s central sequence is of Roman soldiers using whips with shards of bone to rip into the back of Jesus, played by Jim Cazaviel. The scene lasts for nearly 15 minutes, and there’s a palpable feeling of relief when Christ is finally allowed to collapse onto his back on the cobblestone floor of the courtyard. And then the soldiers start tearing into his chest.
It is no surprise, then, that critics have overwhelmingly recoiled from The Passion, decrying it as an exercise in sadomasochistic barbarism with no higher purpose. What they don’t realize is that in Gibson’s Traditionalist outlook watching this torture is a higher purpose, a spiritually elevating, cleansing experience. Such doctrine is alien to most of Protestant and Roman Catholic Christianity, so it’s understandable that it would be exceptionally shocking to viewers with the barest religious background. The mainstream critical incredulity at The Passion’s violence doesn’t reveal a gap between the sacred and the secular in America so much as it shows the chasm between Medieval and modern mentalities.
The Passion is more foreign a film than anything in the Bijou’s Independent Film Series; it arrives not from another country but from another time. Despite the use of Latin and Aramaic, however, the mood hails less from first-century Jerusalem than from 14-century Europe. Gibson’s Medieval sensibility extends to a fascination with the grotesque: the movie opens in the Garden of Gethsemane, where Jesus is struggling a bit with his Father, but much more with a pale, androgynous, smirking devil. The traitorous Judas is pursued by a pack of demon children with distended, engorged faces (they look like Gollum before the Atkins diet) who abandon him beside a putrefying donkey corpse, where he hangs himself. And when one of the thieves crucified beside Jesus curses him, a great black raven arrives to peck out the blasphemer’s eyes. This is the Gospel by way of the Brothers Grimm.
I have a friend who loathes the Lord of the Rings movies for taking characters who in Tolkien’s fiction are symbolically fixed and making them into dynamic, changing figures. The Middle Ages attitude of The Passion achieves the opposite: it turns vibrant, complex humans into static icons for audience adoration. The story begins in medias res; any background of who the characters are must be scrounged from brief flashbacks. (As a tool for Christian evangelism, which is how the movie has often been marketed, it’s hard to imagine The Passion sparking mass conversions. Most post-viewing discussions will have to start with identifying exactly who that Jesus fellow was.) This is not clumsy filmmaking on Gibson’s part: his intention is clearly not to tell a coherent story but to inspire adoration of the corpus. The tone of the film is sacramental, as if Gibson believes (as did the Medieval viewers of mystery plays) that watching Christ’s torment is, in and of itself, a transcendent means of grace. When Gibson says in interviews that God is using him to make this movie, I think this is what he’s talking about. The Passion is his administration of the cup of celluloid.
How affecting this is will depend on how much you buy into Gibson’s offering. The film has moments of real power, particularly as Christ screams forgiveness in his greatest moments of extremis, and it’s impossible to create a version of this story that isn’t at least a little heartrending. But The Passion’s overall affect is to demonstrate the limitations of pure image. A little of the scourging sequence goes a long way, and a lot of it means that, by the time soldiers dislocate Jesus’ shoulder to fit him on the cross, much of any audience will have surrendered to utter catatonia.
But the most violent sequences, while numbing, are also the most dramatically effective, since the weighty content matches the histrionic, melodramatic tone that Gibson uses for all two hours without respite. For all the controversy it has inspired, I don’t think The Passion of the Christ is a very good movie. It has all the over-the-top romanticism and broad acting of Gibson’s Braveheart, without the vigilant character construction. All the actors perform to the balcony, and Gibson matches them with plenty of slow motion and thundering jump cuts. The only performer who makes a full emotional connection with the audience is Maia Morgenstern as Jesus’ mother Mary – her psychological agony is fully believable, and if viewers weren’t going in with preconceived beliefs, it’s quite possible the film would inspire more Marian devotion than anything else.
The lack of recognizable human performances is where the much-bandied charge of anti-Semitism holds the most water, with Jewish high priest Caiphas (Mattia Sbragia) howling unsubtitled curses upon his people in exchange for the blood of the Galilean. But the movie betrays no particular antipathy toward Jews, many of whom show compassion to Christ as the movie follows the traditional 14 Stations of the Cross to Calvary. The real bias of the movie is anti-heathen in a way that again echoes the Middle Ages. Those who love Jesus are saintly, and those who kill him – Jews and Gentiles – are unmitigated scum, all with a ravenous appetite for cruelty.
And for Christians, this degrading and polarizing of human characters should come as the greatest disappointment in The Passion of the Christ. For those of us who believe that the story of Jesus matters, his life is not merely physical suffering on our behalf, but a redemption that revolutionizes our very natures, that brings the life of God back into humanity. It is this gift that makes Christianity more beautiful than the theistic cowering that Barry Graham described in a recent issue of the Pulse. But while the Christ of The Passion shows forgiveness to his tormentors, Gibson has no interest in showing them any grace. His Passion has no compassion.
Mesh, you are an incredible writer. I would say God has given you an amazing gift in that regard
. While I have not seen this movie, and wont get to see it for several months, I recently took the time with Jade Alger to watch Mel Gibson and Randall Wallace's followup to Braveheart, "We Were Soldiers." Watching this film has made me feel that everything you say here about "The Passion of the Christ" is probably correct. In fact "We Were Soldiers" perhaps should have been a foreshadowing sign to us of what was to come in Gibson's Christ movie. In WWS, once the violence starts it never ends, and you get the feeling that the filmmakers are almost getting a kick out of the grotesque images put on screen. Sure, Saving Private Ryan and other war films have been equally gruesome, but what sets WWS apart is that it gives absolutely no worthwhile attempt at justifying its excessive use violence. It is violence for the sake of violence, so in the end, all you feel about the Vietnam War is that, wow, that was really disgusting. So yeah, the obsession with violence and torture that Gibson has been accussed of concerning "The Passion of the Christ" is all too evident in his previous films, and I find it difficult to initially object to your take on the film. It is almost as if Gibson feels the same way about the Vietnam War as he does about the crucifixion, that you have to merely meditate on the terror and torment of these events in order to understand their meaning.
Hmm, interesting. I haven't seen it yet, but your review confirms what I was expecting about the medieval outlook. Of course, since I haven't seen it yet, I might be coming back here in a few days to tell you that I think you're nuts.
Posted by: kathryn b. at February 26, 2004 09:57 PMI have seen the movie and thought it well done. It is a weighty conviction to see the high price paid for sin - its brings a pressing, and an urging in the spirit, both during the viewing of the film, and it that stays with you after, to live well. He's worthy of it. It is also an inspiration to see the tenacity of love. He resolved Himself to do for us what we could not do for ourselves. As brutal and persistent as the torture is in the movie, the determination and passion in Christ's mission to finish the task He came for is well-depicted, well-communicated. It's an awful big gift to be so callously discarded, this grace extended to us all. I'm hoping, through this vehicle, many will reconsider.
Posted by: pam at February 27, 2004 10:19 AMQuite an excellent review. I saw the film this Wednesday with a friend and again Thursday with my wife. I agree with almost everything to say until the last few moments of the review. Some will call this splitting hairs, but the film does not make quite the anti-heathen dividing line you claim.
Pontius Pilate is a remarkably complex role, played with great skill. He shows a desire to play politics with the Jews and the Son of Man, trying to find a way to subdue the mob without condemning the Christ. He certainly isn't a lover of Christ, but certainly not blindly bloodthirsty. Nor is there any hint of sadism in Judas or Simon the cross-bearer, though neither can really be tagged as showing great love and Simon seems ultimately more confused about his role than anything else. The movie, fully explored, displays significant gradations between unconditional love (Jesus) and unmitigated hate (Caiphas).
"The Passion of the Christ" ultimately collides with a culture that would rather know Jesus Christ, the guy next door than Jesus Christ, the sacrificial lamb. It must be recalled that Jesus wasn’t sent to teach pleasantness to save us from our sins. Though his teachings are truth and his works miraculous, his purpose on this earth was to die. Without his death and subsequent resurrection, his life was meaningless (as the apostle Paul was fond of saying).
Posted by: Matthias at February 27, 2004 03:56 PMI think Matthias makes a good point, Christ's purpose was to save us from our sins through his death, thus thats what this movie is about, death. Which is utterly depressing, dark, and not "entertaining." Movies in my mind either entertain or enlighten. They can do both obviously but this one just seems to go for the latter. Least I hope no one is truly entertained by such a movie, though then again people are entertained by more sadistic things such like video games ie Soldier of Fortune where you can shoot a guys chest open and then continue to pluck off them limb by limb while they scream in agony. But I digress and get away from the topic so therefore i stop now
I only want to say that your review is one of the best I have read about this movie. When I first heard about The Passion being made I was excited and really looked forward to the release. But this movie failed on almost every level. Your review summed it up quite eloquently and gave me even more to think about. Thank you.
Posted by: Steve at February 28, 2004 01:26 AMOverall usual good writing. I do have some questions about your concluding comments concerning the anti-heathen bias. I haven't actually seen the movie so, for the sake of argument, let's assume that this bias is actually there. Is this an example of your previous disagreement with Ebert that the intentions of a movie are fair game for a critic? I ask because it seems to me that the genre itself- Medieval passion play- demands this kind of polarization. Nevertheless, even if Gibson has remained within the bounds of his chosen genre, I do not question the validity of your comments as an artistic or cultural critique. Perhaps Middle Ages sensibilities just aren't compatible with good film making.
I do, however, question the idea that this division should come as a great disappointment for Christians. While I do have theological objections to Passion Plays in general, this is not one of them. The stark polarization of saints and sinners is a consistently reoccurring biblical theme. I'm not saying that there is no place in the biblical narrative for character development, or, what is more important to this discussion, for grace. But these black and white categories do have their place. You see them most conspicuously in the impreccatory Psalms. Even though our place in redemptive history is such that we are to treat the heathen with grace [we don't annihilate them as in the days of Joshua], we cannot assume that OT attitudes were primitive. They were divinely inspired reflections of a still future final judgment in which the sheep and the goats will be divided. It is wrong if Christians show no grace to the heathen that actually surround them. However, it may be legitimate for a Christian not to show grace to heathen characters, even if this doesn't make for a good story.
I also wonder if your reason for finding this polarization to be a problem is related to your previous comments on Passion Plays. You write, "But no Passion play -- and I feel confident Gibson's film will be no exception -- will ever start from the perspective of those who hated Jesus. But in the real world, that's the role we play." Perhaps you're saying that, had Gibson shown the proper grace, we could have identified with the right characters. If this is so, I repeat my previous objections. The gospel narratives exist, not so we can identify with Christ so as to ride to his rescue, not so we can boo the heathen, and not so we can feel the guilt and responsibility for being a heathen. They exist so that we can identify with the substitutionary atonement. "I am crucified with Christ." I do not believe that any visual dipiction of the Passion can do this.
I have no objections at all to your position that the intentions of a film are subject to critique. Nor do I disagree with the notion of criticizing an entire genre. But, even if you were doing this, in this case, I feel that you did not go far enough. Not only the genre, but the medium itself is fair game for criticism. [I do, of course, realize, that as an aspiring movie critic, you would not want to make a habit of this.]
This is a great review Mesh. I've been thinking about it all week. I wonder, though - is focusing on Jesus's suffering in the way you describe solely medieval? Couldn't it also be Reformed, for all the reasons the other commentors on here are saying? Some of the complaints I'm hearing about the movie is that Mel chose to focus on the suffering, when he omitted all the good stuff like Jesus's teaching on love and forgiveness. In some ways, this really shows where our culture's thoughts are about Jesus. They don't really understand the atonement at all. They think of Jesus as a good teacher, and they hate the necessity of his death. But Christian orthodoxy actually places the focus on the cross, and not those teachings per se. It's the cross, and then the resurrection, wherein there is hope for sinners. Not in the moral teachings. So, it seems like spiritually speaking, and putting aside the craft of the film, this movie was a good choice. If we're focusing on the intent of the filmmaker, I mean.
Posted by: scott cunningham at March 1, 2004 10:20 AMKevin, you offer interesting thoughts that I'll need time to respond to with any sort of wisdom, and if there's one thing I don't have today, it's time. (If there are two things I don't have today, the other one is wisdom, but no matter.) I'll be sure to respond soon.
Scott, you thoughts are also worthy of a thoughtful response, but I'll at least get the ball rolling with an ill-considered reply.
I guess I have a hard time with the phrase, "It's the cross, and then the resurrection, wherein there is hope for sinners." To be fair, this is among the strongest arguments that I've heard in favor of The Passion -- I can't remember how many of my friends said as much this weekend -- and I respect it. The reality of Jesus' physical sacrifice is worthy of at least some meditation if we are to avoid a namby-pamby religiousity. But I don't think it's just the cross, or even just the cross and the resurrection, that provides my hope. It's the Person of Christ, the sinless, all-loving person, who endured the cross and was the first fruits of the resurrection, who provides my hope. If somebody else had done it, it wouldn't matter. The movie barely reminded me of that person, or what I know of him. That could almost have been any poor schmuck up on that cinematic cross.
This is what I mean when I talk about The Passion as a Scourged Christ statue: I respect the sincerity of Gibson's vision, but that doesn't mean that I think watching the movie really makes us appreciate Christ any more, except on a visceral level. I think we're still talking about 16th-century stuff here.
Other people are saying this better than me; there's a thoughtful if generally negative discussion of the movie on Slate this week, and Stephen Prothero, the chair of religion at Boston University, has started talking about some of the same Medieval arworks I was thinking of but wasn't well-read enough to reference properly. He compares Matthias Grünewald's "The Crucifixion" to "The Passion."
Grünewald's work is actually part of a larger altarpiece that includes other biblical moments, including a wonderful rendering of the resurrection, in which Jesus, healed of his infirmities, promises healing in heaven to the infirmed. Gibson's movie, by contrast, focuses on the death of Jesus to the exclusion of his life, leaving the viewer to believe that the mortification of Jesus' flesh is the whole of the gospel. The brief flashbacks to his earlier life are, like his character, underdeveloped. And Gibson's resurrection scene is an afterthought, owing more to Arnold Schwarzenegger's Terminator ("I'll be back") than to the New Testament.
But before I take this too far, I should note quickly that Gibson has made a movie that is what you bring to it. Some of my friends even actively admire The Passion for its lack of scope and iconic qualities, because they know the story of Jesus so well, and don't want Gibson clouding up their memories with his own interpretation of Christ's personality. And James Lileks writes on his blog about his father's reaction:
My dad called tonight to see if my wife had gotten the job. He mentioned that he’d seen “The Passion” that afternoon. He thought it was good, but parts were very taxing. Still, he said, “it shows you what he went through.” And he said “he” as if he was referring to someone he’d known all his life. Which of course he had.
I guess this is why I have become more interested in talking to my friends about their reactions to the Passion -- most of which are positive -- than I am in talking about the movie itself. I still think the Passion is a mess of a movie, effective only in inducing revulsion and exhaustion in many viewers. But it is sparse enough that it incites reactions that have little to do with the film, and lots to do with its subject. And I'm always interested in hearing what people have to say about Jesus.
Posted by: mesh at March 1, 2004 01:10 PM