Strenuous Filmmaking, Strenuous Christianity
by
Mel Gibson's visceral interpretation of Jesus of Nazareth's arrest and crucifixion is a good piece of filmmaking. Whether it's good theology ultimately depends on your religious beliefs, but the two judgments can't easily be separated. Without question the amount of graphic, artfully presented violence helps make for an extremely powerful experience. Anyone familiar with Braveheart, The Patriot or We Were Soldiers won't be surprised by Gibson's bloody-minded approach. But does his presentation of the brutality obscure what most regard as the essential message of Christianity?
The answer is basically a matter of proportion and emphasis. This deeply religious work of art is such a fascinating cultural phenomenon precisely because you can't assess its theological significance without judging its aesthetic value, and vice versa. The Passion of the Christ invigorates because Gibson's artistic choices have serious theological implications. Christian viewers are forced to analyze their faith.
Beginning in the garden at Gethsemane, The Passion covers the last hours of Jesus' mortal life. The action never flags as Gibson achieves a brisk rhythm using crystalline cinematography, ethereal music, and eerie sound effects. The acting is impressive, though Jim Caviezel spends most of the time gasping and moaning as Jesus endures a prolonged scourging at the hands of ludicrously bloodthirsty Roman soldiers followed by a torturous climb to the hilltop where he's nailed to the cross.
Gibson doesn't shy away from the histrionic strands in the story, whether concerning a deranged Judas hanging himself, Mary and Mary Magdalene mopping up Christ's blood, a debauched Herod, shameful Peter, politically calculating Pontius Pilate, or scheming Jewish hierarchy. The screenplay by Gibson and Benedict Fitzgerald is based on the four Gospels and the poetry of the scriptures occasionally shines through. Having it spoken in Aramaic and Latin (with English subtitles) was a brilliant stroke. By distancing audiences from the words, the profundity of the action is enhanced. The subtitles and the violence both dispel the cozy sanctimony associated with most Bible movies.
As to the charge of anti-Semitism, the Romans come off worse than Caiphas and the other high priests, but the overriding sense is that there's plenty of guilt to go around. The true villain is the Devil, represented by a pale shrouded figure that skulks about. According to Gibson’s worldview, Satan is very real and the battle between good and evil is constantly being waged. Another way of getting at the crux of the movie is to ask whether Gibson finds the Devil and evil to be more pervasive and alluring than God and goodness. Given how vividly he depicts sadism and mendacity, you're tempted to answer he does.
Yet as a believer, Gibson must be arguing that to appreciate the higher meaning of Christ's sacrifice you need to fully appreciate his physical anguish. Furthermore, the horrific details of Jesus' suffering must be distinguished from his message of love; to confuse what happened to him with what he stood for is a category mistake. Still, the image of the crimson, lacerated man threatens to overshadow everything. The meaning of Christ's execution is hinted at in a series of brief flashbacks, moments that concisely reveal some of Jesus' most emblematic teachings and deeds. A close reading of the movie shows that Gibson uses them to interrupt the torment at crucial points, for instance at the pinnacle of his agony on the cross.
It's too bad Gibson chose not to devote more time to expounding Christ's philosophy and that he gives short shrift to the Resurrection. Though both decisions can be explained by the practical necessities of having to circumscribe the action, there's a sense of incompleteness. When you know the rest of the story, the movie isn't totally satisfying emotionally or dramatically. From a religious perspective, it's not very spiritual or hopeful.
As an example of commercial moviemaking, however, The Passion of the Christ is cleverly designed. Ever the shrewd entertainer, Gibson -- who says he's working on the script for a prequel/sequel -- fashions a cliffhanger ending that leaves you wanting the saga to continue. While he tells this part very well, it remains to be seen whether he can represent what came before and after with the same power and immediacy.
(Released by Newmarket Films and rated "R" for sequences of graphic violence.)