AGORA

April 13th 2010

Agora is not a film which will draw large audiences. It is a film for those who are interested in and entertained by historical films and by those who would like to see a film which dramatises a period, not well known at all, in Christian history.

Some reviewers who have seen the film suggest that there is a need for some kind of historical background, especially about the Church in Egypt, in the city of Alexandria, at the end of the 4th century and the beginning of the 5th century. But, first some words about the overall impact of the film itself.

The film is impressive to look at, a combination of sets and computer generated locations. It was filmed in Malta (with a fair percentage of the population seeming to be present as extras, lots of crowd scenes). It runs for 128 minutes, which is quite demanding for a film about such an unfamiliar period. It was directed and co-written by Spanish director, Alejandro Almenabar (whose varied films include, Open my Eyes (remade as Vanilla Sky), The Others and the drama about assisted suicide, The Sea Within).

Some review comments

The film is also quite demanding in its content and dialogue. The central character is the renowned pagan philosopher, Hypatia. She is played with some authority by Rachel Weisz. Her philosopher father, Theon, is played by the French actor, Michel Lonsdale. Several sections of the film, some lengthy, are classes and discussions about the nature of the universe and speculation on the Ptolemaic theories of the relationship of the earth to the sun and the planets and how the stars move - or does the sun, or does the earth? Audiences who are not strong on astronomy or geometry may find these sequences too difficult, even baffling. But, it is quite a daring thing to present a feature film which raises these issues and asks its audience to think about them.

However, it is the religious background of the film which needs some explaining. By and large, the screenplay is accurate enough, especially about Hypatia, Orestes the governor of Alexandria and Sinesius, bishop of Cyrene, a pupil of Hypatia, who demands an assent of faith from her at the end of the film but who actually wrote in defence of her theories and died before her murder. There are problems with the presentation of Cyril of Alexandria, bishop of the city, later declared a saint and an important doctor of the church with his contributions to the theology of the humanity and divinity of Jesus.

The film might have been more satisfying for those who know something of the period had it alerted the audience to the fact that relations between pagans, Christians and Jews were not quite as straightforward as they are presented here. While it is accurate enough in general, there is much more to the feuds, hostilities, persecutions and massacres.

391-415 AD

The 4th century was one of the most difficult in the Church's history and the source of much of the difficulty was, in fact, Alexandria.

From the 2nd century AD, the centres of intellectual debate and theological argument were in the schools of Alexandria and Antioch. By 300 AD, there were great developments in sophisticated theological thought in Alexandria. Agora does not really reflect this reality of the Alexandrian Christians. We see the Christians reflecting on the Scriptures (the Beatitudes in particular), the bishop preaching to the faithful and, later, the reading of texts from Pauline letters which are restrictive on the activities of women in the Church. But – and this may have been the case - most of the Christians are not well educated and easily swayed by populist demagogues, one of whom challenges the pagans to walk through fire unharmed as he does. He is seen as a miracle worker – the dared pagan goes up in flames. However, this is balanced by the same man showing a convert slave the ordinary miraculous in supplying bread for distribution to the poor. Reasonable enough and a fairly sympathetic view of Christians.

But, what had been most important in Alexandria at the beginning of the century was the teaching of the local priest, Arius, whose understanding of the relationship between the Father and the Son emphasised the humanity of Jesus as somehow making him inferior to the divine Father. His opponent was the bishop of Alexandria, St Athanasius, who found himself exiled from his city more than once. The historical complication was that this was the time when the emperor Constantine declared that Christianity not be a banned religion, 312 AD. Clashes, both ideological and physical, between pagans and Christians, spread throughout the empire as did the response of governors to the new situation, some for, some against.

While the Church resolved the Christ issue at the first of the ecumenical (worldwide) councils in Nicaea, a suburb of Constantininople, in 325, and enshrined it in a creed formulation that is still recited on Sundays at Masses around the world, the followers of Arius, maintained their stances and influenced a number of political rulers who used their adherence to Arianism to combat bishops. This would have been the case at the time of Hypatia. This could have been incorporated into some of the discussions in the film which would have heightened the reality of the persecution of the Christians by the pagans which resulted in fanatical and violent response, massacres in revenge for the killing of Christians and vandalism in destruction of the world's greatest library.

Hypatia, declaring herself a seeker after truth and an investigator of the universe, escaped the attacks and survived.

Further councils in 431 (Ephesus) and 451 (Chalcedon in Constantinople) led to further work on the theology of the humanity and divinity of Christ.

The second half of the film takes place in 415, the year of Hypatia's death. The bishop of Alexandria is Cyril. Checking Google references for him shows that he was as irascible as portrayed in the film. He fomented clashes with Orestes who had become a Christian as had many of the pagans and rulers. Another of his targets was the Jewish community. There is a similar difficulty in the portrayal of the Jews as stone throwing zealots and then victims, though not as viciously fanatic as some of the Christian zealots, especially a group of monks who patrol the city supervising morality.

There are records of Jews being in Alexandria since the early 6th century BC, the prophet Jeremiah and others fleeing there after the destruction of Jerusalem and the Temple in 587. Much intellectual reflection on the Jewish scriptures and the translation of books from Hebrew to Greek were done in Alexandria. The book of Wisdom, accepted in the Catholic biblical canon comes from this city in the 1st century BC. It is said that John's Gospel was influenced by the Alexandrian philosopher, Philo. Which means that at the time of the Jewish-Christian? clashes in the film, Jews had been a significant part of Alexandria and its intellectual life for about a thousand years.

An Egyptian historian, Damascius, claimed that Cyril was responsible for the death of Hypatia and her very cruel martyrdom. Agora's screenplay follows this. Historians say there is no other evidence that this is exact – some 19th century authors took it up again. However, historians do say that Cyril's bitter approach fomented the pervading atmosphere of hostility which led to Hypatia's death.

So, there is much in Agora for audiences interested in films which dramatise unfamiliar periods of history. And, it may be more accurate than many others. The above background might have been incorporated into the screenplay to make it more solid and nuanced.

Hypatia the martyr

While initially the pagans are shown as clinging to their gods and to their own civil status and initiating persecution of the Christians, the Christian response (which was regrettably repeated down the ages, think St Bartholomew's Day massacre of 1572 against the Huguenots) is rabble-roused fanaticism. With the Jewish-Christian? clashes, there is a huge heritage of history and persecution which puts the sad experience of the 20th century in the audience's mind.

At the end, Hypatia is presented as a martyr and quite movingly declaring her own integrity (rather than faith) and bravely and heroically facing her death. This is strongly reminiscent of, even parallel to, the way that the Christian martyrs were portrayed in the storytelling of the early church.

Actually, there was much more vitality and sophistication in the Christians churches of this period. St Ambrose was bishop of Milan at this time and St Augustine repented of his past in 397 and became the leading theologian of the western church. When Hypatia died, he was bishop of Hippo further west from Alexandria in north Africa, not all that far from the film' real character, Sinesius, bishop of Cyrene. By the middle of the 5th century Attila the Hun was at the gates of Rome, barbarians at the borders and the western empire was on the verge of collapse.

Amenabar himself says that the film is not against Christianity but 'a film against fundamentalism, against those who defend their ideas with weapons. It is not against Christians and most certainly not against the Christians of today'.

AMEN

March 1st 2003

Amen is the title of the film by Greek director Costa- Gavras. Costa- Gavras made his name in cinema with an impressive range of films on political issues. His drama about the rule of the Greek generals, Z (He Lives), won the Oscar for Best Foreign Language Film of 1969 and was greeted the world over as showing how a film could offer insights into social struggles. Other films from the seventies include The Confession and State of Siege. His 1982 drama about oppression by the Pinochet regime in Chile, Missing, starred Jack Lemmon and Sissy Spacek and was also Oscar-nominated.

His intention in making Amen was to contribute to the continuing discussions about the role of the Catholic Church in defending the rights of the Jews, especially in Nazi Germany and during World War II. The controversies, which are frequently discussed in the Catholic media, centre on Pope Pius XII with arguments about his seeming public inaction and his and the Church's assisting Jews behind the scenes.

Because the focus on Pius XII has been persistent, Costa- Gavras's film is still timely. What has annoyed many commentators is that Amen is a film version of Rolf Hochhuth's play, The Deputy, performed first in the 1960s. At the time, critics were strong in declaring that Hochhuth had taken a biased stand against Pius XII and that his fictional and weakly-researched treatment of the serious issues was offensive. This has been the presumption of critics of the film who were quick to denounce it earlier in 2002, especially when it was screened in competition at the Berlin Film Festival and then given general release in France. Particular criticism was made of the advertising campaign (which is not the same as the film itself) for its logo of a cross combined with a swastika. The French Bishops condemned the advertisements.

But what of the film itself? A number of elements need to be taken into consideration. As a film, Amen will not draw the crowds. Many critics were harsh on it in Berlin, including some Catholic reviewers, because its style is a throwback to the 60s. It was considered 'old-fashioned' and lacking in dramatic impact. Another difficulty is that it is one of a number of films made these days with funding from all over the European Union where the producers decide that the film is to be made in English as the most widely understood language. The result is a screenplay that sometimes sounds archaic in its expressions. And, with a cast from different countries, the English accents vary considerably. Both these elements can alienate audiences.

As regards the content of the film, Costa- Gavras has modified Hochuth's attack on Pius XII. The central criticism is still there but Pius XII is not isolated from other church and civic leaders of those times. The film indicates that German Protestant leaders were slow to believe information coming out of the concentration camps. The Papal Nuncio in Berlin wanted proof of the claims of genocide, suspicious that the revelations were being made up by a member of the Nazi party who had been involved in developing the gas chambers' technology. Church people feared that the claims were a set-up. Swedish diplomats and US diplomats in Italy and the Vatican are also shown as holding back. Pius XII opts not to denounce the atrocities in his Christmas message of 1943, believing that he is saving others, especially Church officials and ordinary people, from harsh Nazi reprisals.

This has been the stuff of controversy now for more than fifty years.

Where the film is worth seeing is in its portrayal of the German scientist who comes to realise what cruelty is being perpetrated against the Jews and who tries, generally in vain, to make his message known so that the killing will be stopped. Also forceful is the fictional character of a young Roman Jesuit who works in the Papal Nuncio in Berlin and uses his family connections in the Vatican to try to persuade the Pope and the Curia of what is going on and for the Pope to speak out.

The final ironies of the plot reflect some of the injustices concerning Nazi personnel after the war. The decent whistleblower is condemned as a war criminal. The Jesuit opts to identify with the Jews and be executed in the camp with them. The commandant does a deal with a church official to escape to Argentina.

The study of history is not always comforting and the sins of the past, as Pope John Paul II has constantly reminded us, have to be acknowledged, confessed and reparation made. While the controversy about Pius XII and what he did and did not do will continue to be debated, Amen is not an attack on the Church as such, but a drama that is critical with the luxury of hindsight.

ANGELS AND DEMONS

11th May 2009


Just what everyone has been waiting for: a film of a Dan Brown novel!

However, with the report of a review in L'Osservatore Romano after the film's premiere in Rome saying that the film was commercial and entertaining and that Ron Howard had made an effective thriller (although the review also suggested a mind game while watching the film, to pick the inaccuracies!), it means that a lot of the heat should have gone out of any controversy. SIGNIS Cinema Desk would certainly endorse the reviewer's conclusion that the film is 'two hours of harmless entertainment' and not a danger to the church.

Had there been no Da Vinci Code novel, film or controversy, then Angels and Demons would have probably been reviewed as a blockbuster doomsday, murder mystery thriller with a Vatican setting (looking rather authentic), discussions about the church and science with the Catholic Church treated quite respectfully. (References to persecution of scientists in the 16th and 17th centuries was sometimes inquisitorial – and is documented; prison was not easy for Galileo.) There are speculations about the secret society of scientists, The Illuminati, who seem to be a Masonic equivalent.

Angels and Demons was written some years before The Da Vinci Code and is a better written book though it is an 'airport novel', a page-turner. As with many historical novels (and Shakespeare himself was not above creating 'historical' scenarios that were inventive rather than factual), the author takes imaginative license with characters, events, and hypotheses: what if...? But Angels and Demons has a character who seems to do a 180 degree turn in character and behaviour which makes the psychological realism of the book rather absurd. In the film, there is less depth of explaining this character and so the revelation tends to be a cinema twist which, however preposterous, is somewhat more credible, at least in terms of the far-fetched plot itself.

While Ron Howard did not have permissions to film in the Vatican, the sets of the Sistine Chapel, St Peter's interiors, the Vatican Archives look quite convincing and were commented on favourably by the L'Osservatore Romano reviewer.

The scenes of the CERNS reactor are very impressive.

The key point about Angels and Demons is its church subject: church and science, past conflicts, the present challenge, a feature of recent Vatican discussions about evolution and creationism, the meeting of science and religion rather than antagonism. Not a difficult subject when one thinks of Galileo and Pope John Paul's apology in 2000. Which means that the central issues are not as threatening or offensive as the hypothesis of The Da Vinci Code with its relationship between Jesus and Mary Magdalene and their descendants.

The day before the preview of Angels and Demons in London, channel 5 screened The Body which came and went several years ago without too much angst or even discussion. Antonio Banderas portrayed a Jesuit from Rome going to Jerusalem to examine bones discovered in what might have been Jesus' tomb and which would threaten a traditional understanding of the resurrection. There are plenty of novels and films which raise such issues by way of interest and entertainment but are not put forward as theology.

The controversy about The Da Vinci Code, book and film, certainly got people going all around the world, given the number of books sold and the multi-millions of readers. The Opus Dei connection also contributed to some of the furore.

However, this time, with only science and the church (and issues of anti-matter and its potential for mass destruction in the wrong hands) and the Vatican itself calling in Robert Langdon (Tom Hanks) to solve the problems, the potential for argument is limited. As with the screenplay for The Da Vinci Code, lines have been inserted more favourable to the church. Langdon reminds the Vatican that, despite the previous controversy, they have called him in this time. There are respectful lines concerning faith and non-belief – and a final request to Langdon from Cardinal Strauss that he write gently about the church!

One of the issues facing the conclave in the film is the 'Church in the Modern World' vis-a-vis science, with the dialogue for the meeting of ideas of science and theology or extremist attitudes towards religion capitulating to science and so destroying the church – the point being that this kind of fanatic stance can become a cause, righteously crusading with violence against those who hold more moderate views – leading to what could be labelled 'ecclesiastical terrorism'.

A key issue prior to the release of the film has been the raising of controversy about the film, sight unseen, a protest that undermines the protesters' credibility.

Any controversy and protest about a film is a challenge for the church to look at how it responds. The Vatican comments from Fr Federico Lombardi deflected some heat with offhand humour (that he would say something if the film-makers took out 1000 10 year subscriptions to L'Osservatore!). However, several Italian papers began making comments about Vatican officials possibly criticising the film some months earlier. This made headlines in the media that the Vatican would object or was objecting. And publicists must have been offering prayers of thanksgiving that these rumours were doing some of their job for them.

But, in the Catholic world, the main protest has come from William Donohue, president of the Catholic League in the United States. As he did with The Da Vinci Code and The Golden Compass, he issued lists of errors in the book and said that they were to insult the church. It was alleged that he had a Canadian priest contact, not wearing clerical dress, on the set of Angels and Demons who reported that director Ron Howard and members of the production were verbally anti-Catholic. On the basis of this, spurred by an Indian journalist who is linked with the Catholic League, processions of protest were held in India and Taiwan. Many of the errors and alleged insults to the church in the Catholic League list are not in the film.

Ron Howard's publicist (or Howard himself) came up with some smart repartee, that William Donohue must be a man of faith because 'he believes without seeing'. And that Donohue and himself were in agreement – that Angels and Demons was fiction. There were some acrid comments reported from the producers about the Vatican prohibiting filming in the Vatican and parts of Rome but there were also many quotes from Tom Hanks and Ron Howard that the film was not anti-Catholic and that the Vatican would enjoy it (as has seemed to be the case from the review). The Donohue one-liner was that Howard was 'delusional'

This kind of thing (which may not go much further because of the L'Osservatore favourable comments) indicates that there is a profound difference in responding to a film, or anything that is challenging, from an 'education' point of view which leads to dialogue rather than a 'crusading' point of view which leads to two-sided polemic with antagonists rather enjoying the experience of battle in crusade. Dialogue can lead somewhere. Polemic leads nowhere but simply confirms antagonists in their positions and stances and introduces the hurling of invective which in no way mirrors the charity and peace of Christ.

The (good) news is that Dan Brown has completed another conspiracy novel, The Lost Code, due for publication and optioned for filming!

_


Declaración de SIGNIS

Ángeles y demonios

Nada menos que lo que todos han estado esperando: ¡otra película basada en una novela de Dan Brown!

Sin embargo, al conocerse que la reseña de L'Osservatore Romano después de la premiere de la película en Roma decía que la película era comercial y entretenida, y que Ron Howard había hecho un thriller eficaz (¡aunque la reseña también sugería que podría ser un buen juego mental, a realizar mientras se mira la película, dedicarse a detectar los errores!), quedó claro que se había enfriado cualquier posible controversia. El Departamento de Cine de SIGNIS respaldaría ciertamente la conclusión del crítico de L’Osservatore? de que la película constituye “…dos horas de espectáculo inofensivo…” y no un peligro para la Iglesia.

De no haber existido El Código Da Vinci (novela, película y controversia), entonces Ángeles y demonios se habría reseñado probablemente como una superproducción más, un thriller catastrofista de misterio con unas discusiones sobre la Iglesia y la ciencia en el Vaticano (con unos decorados de aspecto bastante auténtico), en las que se trata a la Iglesia católica más bien respetuosamente. (Hay referencias a la persecución de científicos en los siglos XVI y XVII, que fue a veces inquisitorial – y está documentada; la prisión no fue fácil para Galileo.) Hay especulaciones sobre una sociedad secreta de científicos, los Illuminati, que parecen ser un equivalente a la masonería.

Ángeles y demonios se escribió unos años antes de El código Da Vinci y es un libro mejor escrito, aunque no pasa de ser una de esas adictivas “novelas para aeropuertos”. Como ocurre con muchas novelas históricas (el propio Shakespeare era dado a crear escenarios “históricos” que tenían más de invención que de hechos comprobados), el escritor se toma licencias imaginativas con los personajes, los acontecimientos y las hipótesis: ¿y qué pasaría si...? Pero mientras que la novela Ángeles y demonios tiene un personaje que parece hacer un giro de 180 grados en su talante y comportamiento, que hace bastante absurdo el realismo psicológico del libro, en la película se profundiza menos en las explicaciones sobre este personaje y, por tanto, la revelación se convierte en un giro cinematográfico que, pese a ser ridículo, es algo más creíble, por lo menos en relación con la trama, ya por sí misma inverosímil.
Ron Howard no obtuvo permiso para filmar en el Vaticano, pero los decorados de la Capilla Sixtina, los interiores de San Pedro, los archivos del Vaticano, resultan todos muy convincentes y fueron comentados muy favorablemente por el crítico de L'Osservatore Romano. Las escenas del reactor del CERN son muy impresionantes.

El punto clave sobre Ángeles y demonios es su tema eclesial: Iglesia y ciencia, conflictos del pasado, el desafío actual, referencias a las recientes discusiones en el Vaticano sobre evolución y creación, el encuentro, en vez del antagonismo, entre ciencia y religión. No es un tema difícil, cuando uno piensa en Galileo y en la disculpa del papa Juan Pablo II en el año 2000. Lo cual significa que aquí los temas centrales no son tan amenazadores u ofensivos como la hipótesis de El código Da Vinci con su relación entre Jesús y María Magdalena y sus descendientes.

El día antes del preestreno de Ángeles y demonios en Londres, el canal 5 exhibió la película El cuerpo, que anduvo de aquí para allá hace varios años sin que provocara demasiada angustia o siquiera discusión. En ella, Antonio Banderas interpreta a un jesuita de Roma que va a Jerusalén para examinar unos huesos encontrados en lo que podría haber sido la tumba de Jesús, lo cual amenazaría la comprensión tradicional de la resurrección. Hay numerosas novelas y películas que suscitan cuestiones de este tipo como elementos de interés y entretenimiento, sin que las propongan como teología.
La controversia sobre El código Da Vinci, libro y película, atrapó indudablemente a gente de todas partes del mundo, a juzgar por el número de libros vendidos y la cifra multimillonaria de lectores. La conexión con el Opus Dei también contribuyó en parte al furor.

Sin embargo, esta vez, con sólo el tema de la ciencia y la Iglesia (más el asunto de la antimateria y su potencial para la destrucción masiva en las manos equivocadas) y con el propio Vaticano que llama a Robert Langdon (Tom Hanks) para solucionar los problemas, el potencial para una polémica es limitado. Como ocurrió con el guión para El código Da Vinci, se ha insertado material más favorable a la Iglesia. Langdon recuerda al Vaticano que, a pesar de la controversia previa, lo han llamado esta vez. Hay expresiones respetuosas en relación con la fe y la no creencia –¡y un pedido final del cardenal Strauss a Langdon para que escriba amablemente sobre la Iglesia!

Un asunto clave antes del estreno de ha sido el de promover la controversia sobre la película antes de que se haya visto, un tipo de protesta que socava la credibilidad de quienes protestan.

Cualquier controversia y protesta sobre una película son un desafío para que la Iglesia considere cómo responde. Los comentarios del Vaticano, a cargo del P. Federico Lombardi1 apagaron un tanto el fuego de la potencial polémica con un toque de humor improvisado: que él diría algo de la película si los cineastas compraban 1000 suscripciones por 10 años a L'Osservatore Romano. Sin embargo, algunos periódicos italianos empezaron a comentar que funcionarios del Vaticano posiblemente habrían criticado la película unos meses antes. Esto generó titulares en los medios acerca de que el Vaticano se opondría o que ya se estaba oponiendo a la película. Y los publicistas deben haber estado diciendo oraciones de acción de gracias, porque estos rumores ya les estaban haciendo una parte de su trabajo.

En el mundo católico, no obstante, la principal protesta ha venido de William Donahue, presidente de la Liga Católica en los Estados Unidos. Igual que hizo con El código Da Vinci y La brújula dorada, Donahue publicó listas de los errores del libro y dijo que eran un insulto a la Iglesia. Se afirmaba que tenía un contacto en el set de Ángeles y demonios, un sacerdote canadiense, vestido con ropa de calle, que informó que el director Ron Howard y miembros de su equipo de producción tenían expresiones anticatólicas. Sobre esta base, y espoleadas por un periodista indio que tiene vínculos con la Liga Católica, se hicieron procesiones de protesta en la India y Taiwán. Muchos de los errores y los supuestos insultos a la Iglesia que figuran en la lista de la Liga Católica no están en la película.

El publicista de Ron Howard (o Howard mismo) tuvo una salida chispeante, afirmando que William Donahue debe ser un hombre de la fe porque cree sin ver. Y que Donohue y él estaban de acuerdo – en que Ángeles y demonios es una ficción. Hubo informaciones acerca de algunos comentarios ácidos de los productores sobre la negativa vaticana a autorizar las filmaciones en el Vaticano y en partes de Roma, pero también se citó muchas veces a Tom Hanks y a Ron Howard diciendo que la película no era anticatólica y que el Vaticano la disfrutaría (como parece haber sido el caso con la reseña). La respuesta de Donahue fue que Howard estaba “alucinando”.

Este tipo de cosas (que puede no durar mucho más debido a los comentarios favorables de L'Osservatore) indica que hay una profunda diferencia entre responder a una película, o a cualquier cosa que constituya un reto, desde un punto de vista “educacional”, que conduce al diálogo, y hacerlo desde un punto de vista de “cruzada”, que conduce a una polémica de dos bandos, con antagonistas que más bien disfrutan la experiencia de combatir en una cruzada. El diálogo puede llevar a algo, pero la polémica no va a ninguna parte, como no sea confirmar a los antagonistas en sus posiciones y actitudes e introducir el lanzamiento de invectivas que de ninguna manera reflejan la caridad y la paz de Cristo.

¡La (buena) noticia es que Dan Brown ha terminado otra novela de conspiración, La clave perdida, y ya están previstas su publicación y adaptación al cine!
Ángeles y demonios: una reseña

De mayo a agosto en el hemisferio del norte hay primavera y verano, que son época para el lanzamiento casi semanal de superproducciones con presupuestos enormes, acción y efectos especiales, y el potencial para obtener grandes ingresos de taquilla. Este año 2009 ha visto Wolverine y Star Trek, seguidas por Ángeles y demonios, con Una noche en el museo 2, Transformers 2 y Terminator Salvation en perspectiva.

He aquí una trama catastrofista, misterio detectivesco y thriller de acción, con un elenco liderado por Tom Hanks como el simbologista Robert Langdon y Ewan Mc Gregor como el Camarlengo del Vaticano, y un elenco internacional que interpreta a científicos, policías, obispos y cardenales.

Ángeles y demonios, a diferencia de la película El código Da Vinci, es ágil. La reseña de L'Osservatore Romano hace referencia a la dinámica dirección de Ron Howard. La misma reseña la calificó como “comercial”, además de notar que era un “espectáculo inofensivo” y no un peligro para la Iglesia.
De hecho, la película trata la Iglesia de un modo bastante interesante: las escenas tras un cónclave y dentro del cónclave, los refinados decorados de la capilla Sixtina, los interiores de San Pedro, el Castel Sant’ Angelo, la Necrópolis del Vaticano, el cuartel de la Guardia Suiza, los archivos del Vaticano y varias iglesias con obras de Bernini. No dañará el turismo a Roma o al Vaticano, más bien todo lo contrario.

Ciencia y religión son aquí la cuestión. Hay algunas escenas muy impresionantes del CERN en Suiza, donde se recreó el Big Bang en 2008. Dan Brown, cuando escribió esta novela muchos años antes, postuló que esta explosión y la formación de antimateria podrían utilizarse como una amenaza terrorista en Roma. Se exponen argumentos sobre el historial de la Iglesia al perseguir a científicos en los últimos siglos, especialmente Galileo, con algunos interrogatorios y torturas inquisitoriales. El material sobre los Illuminati, la sociedad clandestina de científicos, tiene alguna base, pero nunca fue tan amplia como se especula aquí - una especie de hermandad masónica de científicos. (Aparecieron en la primera película de Lara Croft sin que nadie lo considerara controversial.)

Uno de los asuntos que enfrenta el cónclave en la película es el de “la Iglesia en el mundo moderno” de cara a la ciencia: actitudes de diálogo que hablan de un encuentro entre las ideas de la ciencia y la teología, actitudes extremistas que hablan de capitulación de la religión ante la ciencia y la consiguiente ruina de la Iglesia – y la posibilidad de que este tipo de posición fanática pueda convertirse en una cruzada violenta contra aquellos que defienden puntos de vista más moderados y conducir a lo que pudiera etiquetarse como “terrorismo eclesiástico”.

Oh, el relato tiene tantos hoyos en la trama que no vale la pena pensar en ellos, además de que la acción es tan rápida que uno prácticamente no tiene tiempo de seguirles la pista. Así las cosas, o se irrita uno por los errores en las fechas y cifras históricas, y se sube por las paredes por la falta de la coherencia en el curso de los acontecimientos o, como también hace uno, suspende voluntariamente la incredulidad y disfruta la acción por lo que es, un thriller barato montado lujosamente.

11 de mayo de 2009

A REVIEW/ ESSAY


THE ANTICHRIST

At Cannes 2009, the crowds lining up to see Antichrist prevented this reviewer from getting in. Which may be a good thing, seeing it after all the initial sensationalism of the press audience, the booing, the condemnatory reviews, the controversial articles which spread like wildfire about the most violent, disgusting film ever seen in Cannes, often written by journalists – as in the UK Telegraph papers – who had not seen the film. In fact, regular attendees of Cannes could probably make a quick list of more controversial and violent films with their elements of disgust (Irreversible, Enter the Void, Battle in Heaven, Sin City, Death Proof...).

Lars Von Trier has been a subject for controversy for many years (and he has encouraged it). The 1997 Breaking the Waves raised questions about the treatment of women and raised the ire of many women in the audience. Dogville and Manderlay elicited the same questions. Even his Palme d'Or winner at Cannes, Dancer in the Dark, had Bjork as a woman condemned to execution. The Idiots alienated many audiences.

This review will try to look at Antichrist a bit more objectively – but, as a personal opinion, I would say that I admire the film very much.

A psychosexual drama

The film is a psychosexual drama with a focus on psychological disturbance and therapy. Of its nature, this leads into areas that are private to individuals or to couples. Nevertheless, there is always room for case studies. Even in the traditional teaching of moral theology in the past (before the Second Vatican Council), case studies were presented in the context of marriage, validity and reasons for annulment (which took the students into some detail about marital and sexual behaviour). However, this was a focus on the word, written and spoken, rather than on the image. The immediacy of the image for senses, emotions and thinking means a stronger impact. Many audiences prefer the word rather than being exposed to the (exposed) image. Some draw conclusions that presentation of such images is wrong. This may be a characteristic of religious people (of all faiths) and - there are cultural traditions to be considered as well. The English-speaking world has a rather puritanical heritage regarding sexual issues (which led to the permissive breakouts and reactions of more recent decades). Some are disturbed by glimpses of anatomical nakedness. Catholics in some countries have been influenced by Jansenistic reticence, their own form of puritanism.

The articles devised to create and maintain controversy about Antichrist have noted several 'shocking' scenes, the implication being that 'shocking' meant 'bad'. Some images that shock may have a good effect – a presupposition of Christian anti-abortion groups who show images of aborted foetuses to make their point.

The crucial questions of 'what?' and 'how?'

This always raises the question of what is presented and how it is presented. Theoretically, there is no limit on the 'what'. Every human experience, no matter how difficult, ugly or distressing, is a legitimate subject. The question is always in the how – and that depends on sensitivities, how people are effected (well or badly) by what is presented.

The scenes mentioned in articles for shock value from Antichrist (which does have male and female nudity throughout, though the characters are husband and wife and act as husband and wife) from the sexual aspect of psychosexuality are: a glimpse of a few seconds in the prologue of a penis penetrating a vagina; the wife masturbating (perhaps 15 seconds), an ejaculation of blood (10 seconds) and the vaginal mutilation by the wife, the cutting of her clitoris (fewer than 10 seconds). Except for the first instance, the other sequences come after one hour of the film and so have a context rather that being isolated incidents or scenes which come early without much preparation.

While the images have more immediate power and effect than words (which have just been read here legitimately), the proportion of time allotted to these sequences and their placement, mainly in the second part of the film, affect the how. The audience has spent an hour or more with the couple, has got to know them, been puzzled by the wife, shared their grief at the accidental death of their son, watched the husband (a therapist) try to help his wife with psychological exercises, discovered that the wife was writing a thesis on the historical treatment of women and been collecting images and articles in a folder titled 'Gynocide'. The film relies on dreams, and the transition from dream to waking. It also draws on the complimentarity between men and women both in love and in aggression. That already should have given the audience a great deal to think about before the 'shocking' scenes.

The references to violent scenes seemed fewer in many of the reports and articles but violence occurs more provocatively than the sex. The wife, in her mood swings, in her phobias, and with her background of gynocide studies, turns against her husband and physically tortures him, drilling a hole in his lower leg and attaching a millstone. He hides in a hole which she uncovers and she brutally batters him. Of course, this is shocking but is seen as the action of a woman becoming more demented. A reviewer can note that there was far more graphic physical violence depicted in the run of slasher and so-nicknamed 'torture porn' films, like (for 2009 alone), My Bloody Valentine or The Last House on the Left which were designed as entertainments or the French Martyrs which was intended as a philosophical/religious film on the limits of torture and transcending suffering).

Von Trier's skill

What has not been discussed sufficiently in most articles on Antichrist is the skill with which Von Trier has made his film. Much has been made of his experience of depression and the writing of the film helping him to come out of it. The depression experienced by the central characters does illustrate this quite vividly and persuasively. However, much more should be said about the opening and its effect: it is shot in black and white and in slow motion with Handel's Lascia ch'io piange being sung – while the parents make love, their little son comes out of his playpen, is fascinated by his toys, goes to the window where it is snowing and falls to his death. This is superb film-making and gives a more profound perspective on what follows.

The film is divided into chapters including grief, pain and the reign of chaos. This stylisation of the contents and the development of plot and character mean a studied approach by the audience. With the husband being a therapist, much of the earlier part of the film consists of exercises that he asks his wife to do so that she can surface her fears, face her grief, face the challenge of love and the marriage. This asks for a psychologically alert response from the audience, a sympathy with the characters as well as a critical look at the methods and whether they concur with the husband's approach or not (and whether, ethically, he should be treating his wife, a point that is made a number of times).

This is the context for the graphic sex scenes that have been singled out.

Von Trier is also Danish and shows a Scandinavian sensibility which tends to be grim, frank and earthy.

Religion, myths and symbols

The other pervading aspect is the religious/mythical background that Von Trier brings to his film, drawing on dreams and the traditions of interpretation (and there are many dreams which blend into the waking action of both husband and wife). The woods where the couple have holidayed and go for this therapy is called Eden. They are a new Adam and Eve, but they are fallen and are attempting (unsuccessfully) to regain their innocence. There is a great deal of discussion about nature both in the sense of the natural world as well as of human nature. The wife says that nature is the church of Satan, that it is destructive. The devil has already been present in her life. Then we see the images of the presence of the devil in the past, especially in the destructive treatment of women, and witches, in past centuries. Husband and wife discuss this misogyny and whether women have been considered evil or saints (a frequent Von Trier subject). One hopes that the film audience is paying attention to these discussions and assessing their meaning and value rather than concentrating on the shock scenes.

Von Trier has often been interested in religious dimensions of human nature and there is a credit here for theological advice. Venturing into interpretations of Genesis and the nature of evil and Satan leads to theological questions if not answers.

Animal imagery, real and symbolic, is used all through the film, Genesis symbols, as are this new Adam and Eve in their Eden. A fox, a deer and a bird all seen to give birth. The fox says that 'chaos reigns'. The husband in hiding is threatened by young chicks.

Tragedy and pessimism

Ultimately, Von Trier's vision veers towards the tragic and the pessimistic. It is the woman who is full of guilt at the death of her child, taking on the responsibility. She projects blame and indifference on to her husband. She has some moments of healing and love then loses them. But, perhaps this is also an effect of her studies, her becoming aggressive and attempting to destroy her husband only to destroy herself. He is the one who comes out of Eden. To what? There is a final image of couples on a hill and a long shot of crowds of people streaming up the hill. Does this mean that the film, despite Von Trier's intentions, is misogynistic? Some commentators have noted that female symbol on the t of the title drawing the conclusion that woman is the antichrist. Rather, it would seem, fallen nature, the church of Satan, is our antichrist.

Antichrist is not the ugly, simplistic film that word of mouth seemed to indicate. Von Trier does not offer pat answers to the issues he raises. While one might argue about the 'how' of presenting some of the issues and images, Antichrist has a great deal to say that is worth considering.

A postscript

In Cannes, the president of the Ecumenical Jury, added a postscript to the awards. Speaking for only a minute or two, he rather ironically, even playfully, mentioned that the jury was awarding an antiprize to Antichrist, citing disapproval of Von Trier's treatment of women. This announcement was seen by journalists as something of a 'stunt'. And so it was. However, if you google, in English and French, Ecumenical Jury and Antichrist, more than 80 pages come up, mainly with a repeated story, sensationalising it and quoting Thierry Fremaux from the Festival direction, who was present at the award ceremony, as being 'furious' and, allegedly, criticising the president of the jury, director Radu Mihaleanu, of advocating censorship.

Reviews of the film in the trade magazines tended to be negative and mocked Von Trier's dedication of the film to Tarkovsky.

The articles seemed to be making a carnival out of a stunt.


___

Shorter version for The Catholic Herald, UK.


THE ANTICHRIST

Antichrist is a word that suggests evil, the work of Satan. It appears in the New Testament, especially in the letters of John. It has been used throughout the last 2000 years for all kinds of hostility to Christianity. More recently, it has conjured up evil again but, this time, because of a film by eccentric Danish director, Lars Von Trier. Sensational news reports appeared in the media. Condemnatory comments have been readily forthcoming. Many reports and comments came from people who had not seen the film.

Is the controversy merely a media event? Has it been hyped beyond the film itself?

This opinion piece believes that there has been unreal sensationalism and Von Trier's film deservers more serious consideration, especially from religious commentators. It could be added at once that some years ago Von Trier became a Catholic but probably lives somewhere on the fringes of Catholicism.

The situation arose during the Cannes Film Festival. The press audience booed Antichrist and many in the audience came out upset at some of the sequences which were latched onto by reporters who scented a story. It was quickly described as one of the most violent, even disgusting, films ever to be screened in Cannes.The immediate reviews were generally harsh and antagonistic. As Antichrist goes into commercial release, other reviewers have suggested ways of looking at the film to assess it more objectively. This is one of the aims of the present writer.

It needs to be emphasised that the film is a psychosexual drama. It focuses on psychological disturbance and therapy. Of its nature, this leads into areas that are private to individuals or to couples. Nevertheless, there is always room for case studies. From a Catholic point of view, we remember that even in the traditional seminary teaching of moral theology before the Second Vatican Council, case studies were presented in the context of marriage, validity and reasons for annulment as well as confessional practice (which took the students into some detail about marital and sexual behaviour).

However, this was a focus on the word, written and spoken, rather than on the image.

The immediacy of the image for senses, emotions and thinking means a stronger impact. Many audiences prefer the word rather than being exposed to the (exposed) image.

This always raises the question of what is presented and how it is presented. Theoretically, there is no limit on the 'what'. Every human experience, no matter how difficult, ugly or distressing, is a legitimate subject. The question is always in the how – and that depends on sensitivities, how people are effected (well or badly) by what is presented.

The scene mentioned in articles for shock value from Antichrist (which does have spasmodic male and female nudity throughout, though the characters are husband and wife and act as husband and wife) is that of self-inflicted genital mutilation by the wife. This is an example of 'what' is shown. In fact, it lasts just over five seconds, graphic and direct, yes, but brief. Two other sequences of sexual activity come after one hour of the film and so have a context rather that being isolated incidents which come early without much preparation.

This affects the 'how'. The audience has got to know them, been puzzled by the wife, shared their grief at the accidental death of their son, watched the husband (a therapist) try to help his wife with psychological exercises, discovered that the wife was writing a thesis on the historical treatment of women titled 'Gynocide'. The film relies on dreams, and the transition from dream to waking. It also draws on the complimentarity between men and women both in love and in aggression.

The references to violent scenes seemed fewer in many of the reports and articles but violence occurs more provocatively than the sex. The wife, in her mood swings, in her phobias, turns against her husband and physically tortures him. Of course, this is shocking but is seen as the action of a woman becoming more demented.

However, much more should be said about the opening and its effect: it is shot in black and white and in slow motion with Handel's Lascia ch'io piange being sung – while the parents make love, their little son comes out of his playpen, is fascinated by his toys, goes to the window where it is snowing and falls to his death. This is superb film-making and gives a more profound perspective on what follows.

With the husband being a therapist, much of the earlier part of the film consists of exercises that he asks his wife to do to surface her fears, face her grief, face the challenge of love and the marriage. This asks for a psychologically alert response from the audience, a sympathy with the characters as well as a critical look at the methods and whether they concur with the husband's approach or not (and whether, ethically, he should be treating his wife, a point that is made a number of times).

The other pervading aspect is the religious/mythical background that Von Trier brings to his film, drawing on dreams and the traditions of interpretation (and there are many dreams which blend into the waking action of both husband and wife). The woods where the couple have holidayed and go for this therapy is called Eden. They are a new Adam and Eve, but they are fallen and are attempting (unsuccessfully) to regain their innocence. There is a great deal of discussion about nature both in the sense of the natural world as well as of human nature. The wife says that nature is the church of Satan, that it is destructive. The devil has already been present in her life. Then we see the images of the presence of the devil in the past, especially in the destructive treatment of women, and witches, in past centuries. Husband and wife discuss this misogyny and whether women have been considered evil or saints (a frequent Von Trier subject). Venturing into interpretations of Genesis and the nature of evil and Satan leads to theological questions if not answers.

Ultimately, Von Trier's vision veers towards the tragic and the pessimistic. It is the woman who is full of guilt at the death of her child, taking on the responsibility. She projects blame and indifference on to her husband. She has some moments of healing and love then loses them. But, perhaps this is also an effect of her studies, her becoming aggressive and attempting to destroy her husband only to destroy herself. He is the one who comes out of Eden. To what?

Misogynistic? Some commentators have noted that female symbol on the t of the title drawing the conclusion that woman is the antichrist. Rather, it would seem, fallen nature, the church of Satan, is our antichrist.

Antichrist is not the ugly, simplistic film that word of mouth seemed to indicate. Von Trier does not offer pat answers to the issues he raises. While one might argue about the 'how' of presenting some of the issues and images, Antichrist, with its darker Scandinavian and franker perspective, has a great deal to show and say that is worth considering.

BRIDESHEAD REVISITED
and its Catholicism

17th September 2008

Evelyn Waugh's celebrated 1945 novel was something of a departure from his more satirical books like Decline and Fall, Vile Bodies,Scoop. It was a serious observation of a traditional and wealthy English Catholic family of the 1920s and 1930s, the nature of their allegiance to the Church, particular aspects of their faith and its being part of their aristocratic culture. The observations are made by Charles Ryder who comes from a middle class family, who declares himself an atheist, who is both fascinated and repelled by this kind of religious faith and behaviour just as Waugh himself satirised but seemed to be drawn to the Brideshead way of life and its snobbery. The novel was sub-titled 'The Sacred and Profane Memories of Captain Charles Ryder'.

Waugh himself was a convert to Catholicism in 1930.

Response to this 2008 film version, which did not perform well at the US box office and is about to open in the UK , Australia and other English-speaking countries in October, will depend very much on the audience's age. There will be those who have read the book and have their ideas on how literary adaptations should be filmed. There will be those who saw the 1981, 12 episode television series, which still has the reputation of a television masterpiece (written by John Mortimer and starring Jeremy Irons, Anthony Andrews, Diana Quick with celebrity cameos by Olivier, Giulgud and Claire Bloom). A film running just over two hours cannot hope to compete in storytelling with this series.

For a younger audience unfamiliar with novel or series, this may seem just another 'English heritage' film along with those from the Merchant-Ivory? company. Not having lived through the period, they may well find the portrait of Catholicism alien to their sensibilities and younger Catholics, in particular, unless they belong to current traditionalist movements or frequent such Churches as London's Brompton Oratory, may find that it does not correspond much with their ideas and experience of faith and the Church.

Some audiences have reacted favourably to the film. A number have judged that the film is anti-Catholic.

Leaving aside a review of the film as drama and not commenting on performance, photography, musical score and other technical aspects, the film is worth discussing in terms of representations of the Catholic Church.

The type of Catholicism in the film is very much that of of pre-1960s church. While a great deal of what the family pray, say, discuss and do bears the imprint of a rather sombre church (inherited from the 18th and 19th centuries steadfastness in the face of secular or, as the sub-title of the novel suggests, profane challenge), it represents a hierarchical, aristocratic interpretation of the Gospels and spirituality and devotions. While the characters have varying degrees of belief and lived commitment of faith, it is a faith that is part of ancestral heritage and status, sometimes more cultural than religious. Lisa Mullen, in her Sight and Sound review of the film (October 2008), tellingly refers to the Marchmain's Catholicism as 'an ancestral edict that cannot be shirked'.

The audience is invited to observe and assess the Catholicism through the eyes and experiences of Charles Ryder. He states that he is an atheist. Lady Marchmain suggests that he is really an agnostic but he insists on atheist. While he takes some holy water and genuflects as he first visits the home chapel with Sebastian, he says he is simply trying to fit in. But, he fits in less and less. He is dismayed by Lady Marchmain's frequently expressed language of God's will (when much of it is her own will or, actually, whim) and refers to 'God's limits'. He listens to Cara's version of easier-going Italian Catholicism and its sin, go to confession and sin again pastoral practice. He respects Lord Marchmain's wish not to have a priest at his deathbed but is both moved and puzzled by the change of heart which leads Lord Marchmain to accept Fr McKay's presence, the sacrament of Extreme Unction (its name at that time) and his sign of acceptance by making the sign of the cross as he dies.

This is material that the audience needs time to reflect on as does Charles. When he returns to Bridehead, occupied by the troops during the war, he goes into the chapel, remembers the Flytes and goes to extinguish the candle, hesitates, and does not. This is a fine evocative visual symbol for open-mindedness – that, while there is no problem dramatising the doubts of a believer, audiences tend not to be sympathetic to or are surprised at the doubts of an atheist.. As Charles listens to his ordinary military assistant and his blithe summing up of life as birth, living and death (the philosophy of the brave new world and hopes after World War II), Charles' experience of Bridehead and the Flytes suggest that he reassess his memories, both sacred and profane.

But what is the nature of these sacred memories?

The Flyte experience of the Catholic Church is from the tradition of the Recusant families, those who stood fast against the Reformation for both religious and civil ideologies and who, at best, developed a profound belief and devout practice. Their chaplains in the 17th and 18th centuries, many trained in France, often brought back more rigid ideas and practices which emphasised the language of sin and saving one's soul, as Julia laments about her mother's attitude to her when she was a girl, that she was 'a bad little girl'. By the 20th century, the class system had separated families like the Flytes from ordinary people and, indeed, ordinary Catholics. There was a great deal going on in the English Catholicism of the 1920s and 1930s. The Catholic Church was more that of the working classes (and the presence of Irish Catholics since the 19th century migrations) and the middle classes. The 1930s was a strong era of Catholic Action, of writing and publications and rethinking theology, of talks, discussions and arguments at Hyde Park Corner and the like, of Catholic Education and hospital and social care. Think Chesterton, for instance. While the Flyte family may have had connections with this kind of vital Catholic life, there is no evidence of its influence in the screenplay. The family gather in the chapel after dinner, pray together and sing the Salve Regina just as their ancestors did in the penal days.

This means that the Catholicism of the film is a niche Catholicism, so to speak. And, while it is accurate enough and needs to be portrayed, it is a pity if the average audience comes away thinking that this is it as far as Catholicism goes.
The danger is also in stereotyping – which does not mean that the stereotypes were not real: the genial Irish priest and his eagerness to administer the Last Rites, the easy and sometimes glib 'out' to refer to confession and absolution as the simple Catholic way of dealing with sin, the emphatic God language, the pervasiveness of guilt.

However, one of the striking things about the screenplay by Andrew Davies (a veteran of adapting literary works for the big and small screen) and Jeremy Brock (who may or may not have extensive knowledge of matters Catholic), is the character of Lady Marchmain, brought to vivid and sometimes alarming life by Emma Thompson, and the words put into her mouth.

She speaks about the Church, about faith, about sin, in a way that a majority of clergy spoke at that time and earlier. She has a hierarchical approach to everything, observing life and behaviour from a higher moral ground which leads to an assumed certainty and a snobbish and sometimes intolerant imposition of what she believes and wants in the name of God. She does back down somewhat as she loses her children, something which bewilders her (as it still does bishops, clergy and devout older Catholics faced with their sons and daughters abandoning church practice in the last four decades).

In this way, we can see in the film that her behaviour as mother is parallel to some traditions of 'Mother Church'. She avows to Charles that she has wanted what was best for her children, something which has, in fact, hindered their growth, Julia confident on the surface but with a pervasive fear of her mother and of God, Sebastian and the complexities of his homosexual orientation and his alcoholism. Bridey is simply Lady Marchmain in the next generation.

But mother, and Mother Church, in imposing religious values and practice by simply demanding them rather than assisting the children to grow, assimilate the values and mature into an adult faith, either reproduces replicas, stifles moral growth or alienates the children, driving them away and, in making their experiences bitter, leads them to reject everything their mother stands for.

In this way, the film of Brideshead Revisited, while focusing on a limited and exclusive section of the English Catholic Church of the past, does offer a real model of what has happened in the broader Church, especially in the latter part of the 20th century in terms of lack of interest, rejection or hostility towards the Church.

Brideshead Revisited does not seem to be anti-Catholic as a film dramatising the changes in much of 20th century Catholicism – which may irritate those who love the Church – but, rather, a film challenging beliefs and practices. Which could lead to healthy reflection, re-assessment and discussion.


Note:

The press kit for the film (not always the most trustworthy source for opinions and statements) offers an interesting writer's perspective in quoting screen-writer, Jeremy Brock.

Referrring to Lady Marchmain: A staunch Roman Catholic, she is the religious centre of the novel and the film, binding all the characters together and, in the case of the Marchmain children, largely informing who they are, directing their decisions both subconsciously when they were growing up and consciously as they become adults. Brock says, 'She carries the burden of the religious themes. She is the most articulate advocate for the Catholic point of view in the film and stands out because of that. It also inevitably means she is going to be one of Charles' main adversaries... As religion is one of the central themes and narratives spinning around the central love story, the film explores how religion plays into people's lives, how it informs who they are and how they attempt to escape it or rewrite it in order to become themselves. Brock also refers to the difficulties Charles Ryder faces as an atheist trying to comprehend the power of that faith.

Hayley Attwell, speaking of her performance as Julia says, 'At the beginning of the film she describes herself as half heathen, as she rebels slightly from her upbringing in this big house and very dominant Catholic family. Charles then enters her life and opens her eyes to a new world, but ultimately she is on a journey to discover whether her life is predestined or whether she has the freedom to follow her heart. It's a struggle for her, to find out who she is and what she truly desires compared to what she thinks God wants from her and for her. She ultimately chooses God, the greatest good and highest source of all life, over Charles and romance. But I think it's far more complicated and interesting than just giving up man. Julia finally discovers who she really is and she is happy. It's a revelation rather than a sad ending for her. She's taking on a faith which is a huge thing – quite a miraculous and wonderful thing for many people.'

This kind of comment on religious and church issues is not often found in connection with a film and it is to be welcomed.

BRIGHTON ROCK

31st January 2011

The new film version of Graham Greene’s 1939 novel, Brighton Rock, brings some Catholic themes into prominence. A BBC/UK Film Council production, it is directed by Rowan Joffe, who wrote the screenplay for The American, a Greene-like drama about a burnt-out hitman. His father, Roland Joffe, directed The Mission and City of God as well as the forthcoming film about St Jose Maria Escriva, There be Dragons, all films with Catholic themes.

Greene himself wrote the screenplay for the Boulting Brothers’ 1947 version of Brighton Rock, imbuing it with his frequent themes of sin and the possibilities and impossibilities of redemption. His central character, Pinkie (played with force by Richard Attenborough and now by a sullen Sam Riley) is one of the nastiest of Greene’s villains, young, brash and ambitious, the opposite of that other Greene arch-villain (all smiles and sinister calculation), Harry Lime, from The Third Man. The other central character is the naive young waitress, Rose, who becomes the target of Pinkie’s scheming so that she will not turn a police witness against him for the murders he committed.

The setting of the present film is 1964 rather than Greene’s original 1930s. It is the period of thugs and gangs, of Mods and Rockers and riots, the time just before the abolition of capital punishment in Britain. The film recreates the period and offers the visuals of Brighton, the dark swirling water, the Pier, the Pavilion, the blocks of waterfront flats, streets, tea rooms and bars, as well as dilapidated houses and estates.

It is not usual to have Catholic characters and themes in British films. However, they are a staple of adaptations of Graham Greene novels. There is no shirking of them here. But, what they do show is how little touched by the depth of faith so many Catholics are. Pinkie says he is ‘Roman’ but doesn’t practise, though he says that atheists have got it all wrong denying God and, especially, the existence of Hell. But, there is a moment when he is being chased along the beach, when he drops to his knees and starts reciting the Hail Mary. Rose is devout in a junior primary school kind of way. She is pious, prays the Rosary, goes to Church, lights candles, kneels before the Crucifix.

These depictions could serve as an indictment of the frequent lack of adult follow-up in faith development for so many Catholics – which Greene wrote about in the 1930s, in his screenplay in the 1940s and which is again presented here.

However, under the surface of what Pinkie says and believes, are the themes of Greene’s more serious works like The Power and the Glory, The Heart of the Matter and The End of the Affair. Anyone wanting to follow up on film versions could well look at the 1952 version of The Heart of the Matter where these issues are spelt out with grim finality and the 1999 version of The End of the Affair, adapted by Neil Jordan.

The convert Greene always struggled with the teachings of the Church, not only the moral issues, but the theology of sin, grace, forgiveness and redemption. He believed that literature had, of necessity, to be about sin.

Greene imagined characters who were torn between love of God and love of another human being, highlighting the contrast, especially when the love of another human being seemed more important and tangible than love of God. This is the case with Rose in Brighton Rock. She is so flattered and affirmed by Pinkie’s attention to and treatment of her (though she cannot recognise this in Ida who tries to befriend and save her) that she is willing to commit a mortal sin by marrying him in a registry office (though he assures her it is not a real marriage because there is no priest). Ultimately, she is persuaded that she should take her life for love of him, to protect him and to be with him forever. She affirms this to the nun at the end of the film where she is seen as pregnant and still living with glowing memories of Pinkie, unaware of his cruelty, and the record that she insisted he make on the pier where, in reality, he declared his hatred of her, despising her.

Can Rose be saved because of her love for Pinkie? She is asked by another girl whether she believes in ‘all this stuff’, including miracles. She sees the record player, the camera tracks towards the crucifix, she plays the record (while we know what is really on it) and, as a visual aural alternative to the cruelty of the novel’s ending, Greene devised the ending where the record sticks on ‘I love you’ and repeats it over and over again. Rose is delighted. God has worked a miracle.

Pinkie’s theology is deeper but pessimistic and grace-less, more like that of Scobie in The Heart of the Matter and Sarah in The End of the Affair. Both are prepared to lay down their lives, and their immortal lives, including belief that they would go to Hell, for the sake of their human loves. Scobie commits sacrilege with communion so as not to hurt wife or lover. Sarah risks beginning her affair all over again after sacrificing her love so that her lover could survive a bombing raid. Pinkie has a speech where he declares his grim belief in the harshness and suffering of Hell. He cannot express any real belief in Heaven. And that is how he lives his life, cheerless and cold, pressurising Rose to kill herself – and then he dies.

The person of grace in the film is the blowsy Ida (Hermione Baddely memorable in 1947, Helen Mirren in the current version). She is not a person of faith in any way, except in some goodness in human nature, in her trying to protect Rose, and in a sense of justice that evil should be punished. She is no saint, even at the end, but she does good. It is something the same with Pinkie’s henchman, Dallow, whom Ida relies on at the final confrontation with Pinkie.

Brighton Rock is not so much of a theological treatise as The Heart of the Matter and The End of the Affair can be. But, it does raise the ‘De Profundis’ (Out of the Depths I Cry) nature of deep storytelling about the human condition. On the other hand, it is also an example of a more nihilistic approach to sin, death and life after death, an ‘Enter the void’ film.

This version of Brighton Rock brings an old way and style of Catholicism centre screen. Audiences might wonder and question. It is not the core Catholicism of believers whose focus is not just on the Passion and death of Jesus but on the Resurrection (a criticism made of Mel Gibson and The Passion of the Christ).

A friend once wrote that Graham Greene tasted life through rotten teeth. Greene also probed theological questions with this bitter taste in his mouth.

THE CALLING

April 17th 2010

The Calling is a small-budget British film that will probably not be distributed or seen widely. However, with its Catholic themes and the treatment, it comes within the range of a SIGNIS Statement.

The film is about a community of Benedictine Nuns in Kent, England, and a young woman who feels she has a calling to the contemplative religious life. What promises to be an interesting portrait of an enclosed community is not. (A helpful comparison is Michael Whyte's 2009 documentary on the Carmelite Sisters of Notting Hill, London, No Greater Love.) Diocesan Offices may be getting calls from those who want to complain about The Calling or from those who are asking for some explanations. Those who complain certainly have grounds for this. For audiences willing to give the film a go, they will probably be quite irritated and words like 'absurd', 'preposterous' and, at times, 'idiotic' may spring to mind.

The actual Benedictine Abbey of Minster in Kent provided help for the film and some groundwork for the plot. However, a glance at the Abbey's website shows how different the reality is from the melodramatics of the screenplay. Not that the screenplay is necessarily written in bad faith, though there are some shots at Vatican documents and official Catholic teaching on sexual issues (though Sister Ignatious (I'm afraid that's the way it is spelt for the film but this statement will take the liberty of writing the name correctly) makes the distinction necessary in speaking about abortion. She is anti-abortion but pro-choice at a crucial dramatic stage of the film; for her pro choice is, in essence, is a legal consideration rather than a moral one, a legal consideration for something which one does not approve, like St Augustine's supporting the legalisation of prostitution for the protection of the women and to try to preclude criminal elements exploiting the women, while he did not approve of it morally.) This is, in fact, a current issue for nuns in contemporary US health care discussions which may have influenced Jan Dunn in including it and discussion about contraception and the use of condoms in Africa.

One of the difficulties with the screenplay is the frequent use of the word, 'calling'. Catholics do not normally use that word. They use 'vocation' – and, in fact, this is the word used on the Minster Abbey website. This means that from the word go, or from the first use of the word 'calling', the film does not sound Catholic. Some of the ecclesiastical buildings look Anglican and the soundtrack chant is sung by the Canterbury Cathedral choir.

While important issues are interestingly dramatised, usually, they are outside the abbey of St Bertha (St Bertha!!!): the hostility of the mother of the young woman (Joanna/ Emily Beechum), her best friend's carping, ridiculing and offering advice whereas she is more concerned about herself than wanting Joanna to be happy and have her own peace of mind. The local parish priest is common-sensed and kindly. Psychological concern is rightly raised.

However, inside the abbey!

I suppose there are priests like Fr Kieren, the chaplain, a rather younger, self-righteous imperiously critical man. Yes, there are. However, by the end, he has a list of sins that have been exaggerated for plotline (and not every effectively).

The nuns are really a strange lot. Since they are Benedictines, in real life, the local bishop might have intervened more quickly (though he is not without skeletons in his cupboard, piling on screenplay exploitation and exaggeration). The Abbey would belong to the worldwide Benedictine Union and there would have been visitation and intervention long since. These sisters have a correct autonomy but locally are a law unto themselves.

Susannah York plays the prioress with huge emotional, psychological and vocational problems, ruling her small roost like someone who would have been rejected from The Nun's Story and who makes Meryl Streep's Sister Aloysius in Doubt, seem severe but normal. Her fate at the end is tragic but incredible. Rita Tushingham and Pauline McLynn? (who knows a thing or two about religious houses since she played Fr Ted's housekeeper on television) are two of the cattiest nuns you would wish not to meet, trying to drive Joanna out of the community. There is a sister who has been the victim of trauma and does not speak (but plays the organ beautifully) and there is a novice who has a dubious past and a dubious present. All in all, a dysfunctional lot who remind us of the classic film of a dysfunctional community of nuns, Michael Powell's 1947 Black Narcissus, the story of an Anglican community in India after the war.

Which leaves Brenda Blethyn's Sister Ignatious (Ignatius). She is the contact with the outside and deals with Fr Kieren, interviews Joanna and befriends her and is the novice mistress. Though at one stage, she goes quite out of character and upbraids Joanna for her vegetarian choices and calls on obedience for her to eat the meat before her. That seems quite out of keeping with Sister Ignatius who is reported to have joined pro-choice protests, can make a sly remark about the Vatican, and has her own past secrets.

By this stage, Catholic audiences may be wringing their hands or planning a letter to the editor. Audiences who are hostile to the Church will feel that all their suspicions have been justified (and some!).

As with so many films which deal with the Catholic church in some detail, there has not been nearly enough seeking of technical advice to make it plausible if not accurate – or, if sought, not understood or not heeded. The screenplay's idea of a postulancy, a novitiate and the nature of vows is not well-informed and details are not correct, making it all seem more unnuanced and severe than it really is. (The nuns of Minster do have details of their postulancy and novitiate on the website.) For those who have some experience of religious life, some of the hymns and canticles chanted in the chapel are not apt, though some scenes like that of communion or someone reading Catholic Life with Cardinal Murphy O' Connor on the cover are pleasingly real.

It's a small film which does not claim to be The Nun's Story – although it may have borrowed its ending from that film. It might have been much more interesting had it been more accurate and the cumulative melodrama both inside the convent and outside (there are a number of surprising deaths) not overdone.

The Calling is a documentary from 2009 which is being distributed widely and on DVD.

JANUARY, 2013



THE CALLING

US, 2009.
Directed by David A. Ranghelli.

The Calling is a very sincere and heartfelt film about the call to religious life and to ministry.

The film works well not only as a documentary but as providing a narrative, akin to a feature film. There are interviews as well as scenes focusing on the work of the central characters as well as the reflections on their life and the calling.

The director has followed three people from the late 1990s into the middle of the next decade. They are all from Tampa, Florida. The film opens with a parish priest, Father Philip Scott, preaching to his congregation. However, Fr Scott is originally from Peru and feels that he is called to return there. But he also feels called to establish a new religious congregation, the Family of Jesus, Healer.

Elizabeth, a mother of two adult children in the parish discerns her calling to join him in Peru. She becomes the superior of the community of nuns who work with Father Scott. She draws on her experience of marriage and motherhood to work not only with the sisters but with the poor, especially the women, of the impoverished village where the parish has been set up.

The third person is Orlando, a 21 year old young man, originally from Nicaragua, but who has grown up in a gated community in Tampa and educated there. A good friend of Father Scott, he decides to spend six months in Peru to discern whether this is where God is calling him to live and work.

The film establishes the three characters quickly and quite vividly. They provide strong screen personalities. The scene then moves to Peru, showing the three working there amongst the poor.

There is also up a community of men as well as of women. There is camaraderie amongst the religious and a great deal of detail of the local work with people.

The new order is somewhat traditional in its style, especially with the religious habit, prayer patterns. However, Fr Scott and Orlando move amongst the people in the village quite freely, in a more relaxed style then do the sisters.

The drama of vocation is played out for each of the three characters. There are many interviews with Father Scott, glimpses of his work and interaction with the people. He is a great enthusiast. Orlando is at first frustrated then gradually becomes used to the village, the work, the requirements of religious life. However, there are several scenes with his parents, especially his doctor father who does not entirely approve. They visit him in the village and get a firsthand experience of his life. After the six months, he decides to continue with his vocation, begin his novitiate, receive his habit. His parents are present.

But there is much more drama with Mother Elizabeth. Her two daughters put a great deal of pressure on her to be with them and with their children. They make a strong case for the mother to be with them. Elizabeth returns several times with Father Scott to the parish in Tampa to promote the missions. She visits her children, reflects on their feelings, and ultimately decides to take a year’s leave of absence to discern whether she should stay in the United States.

With audience interest in the characters, with the continuing story of their work and the discernment, the film engages the audience. It also offers the opportunity for the audience to reflect on God’s presence in people’s lives, the unique experience that is a call and that has its demands, despite other people’s questioning or disapproval. It does show the realities and difficulties of religious life and working with the poor and the necessary sacrifices. With the story of Elizabeth, it surprises the audience with her ultimate discernment to be with family.

There are three very interesting extras on the DVD. They give more background to the three characters, more interviews and commentary, often very personal. There are a good supplement to the film itself. In some of the segments there is more focus on the two sisters who had come from the United States, their background, work, the family connections, the decisions to join the order. In the film, they are quite subsidiary characters but come alive here.

The film runs for 80 minutes. The DVD also has a 60 minute version.

The three extras are: Feeling the Call, Knowing the Call, Living the Call.

The film is a credit to the director, David A. Ranghelli who stayed with the characters over many years and helps the audience to get to know his friends as he got to know them.

It is a film for reflection and discussion.

CALVARY




SIGNIS STATEMENT.

February 10th, 2014.


Note: this statement will refer to aspects of plot and so would be best read after a viewing of the film.


As can be seen from the title, this is a film rooted in the gospel story and in Catholic faith. It is one of the best films on priests in recent years. It was written and directed by John Michael Mc Donagh, whose screenplay reveals quite detailed knowledge of the church in Ireland and which brings the plot to contemporary life – even though, one hopes, that the principal events of the film would not happen in real life.

A key film on the life of a parish priest was Robert Bresson’s version of the novel by Georges Bernanos, Diary of a Country Priest. Calvary is the diary of an Irish country priest of the 21st century. It can be noted that Brendan Gleeson gives a totally persuasive performance as the priest. And the setting is on the Irish Atlantic coast, 38 km from Sligo according to a road sign.

With the focus of the title, it is clear that this will be a film about suffering, or that the priest will be a significant Christ-figure, a victim of his own Calvary, an innocent victim, atoning for the sins of others.

This is made very clear from the opening sequence, the priest sitting in the confessional, a man coming into the box and declaring that he has been a victim of a priest’s sexual abuse, that it happened over many years, that it has ruined his life. And then he makes a threat that he will kill this priest on the following Sunday, not because he is a guilty man, but because he is innocent and that will make his death more significant.

Since the initial theme is that of clerical sexual abuse, Calvary has to be seen in the context of the revelations of recent decades, of the government enquiry, of sentences for guilty clergy, and the criticism of church officials for not understanding the crisis and for not acting on it well. This gives a powerful framework for this week in the life of the parish priest, considering what he has been told, preparing for his possible death. The accuser could be anyone in the village, although the priest has recognised his voice.

While this is the framework, the rest of the film shows the priest going about his ordinary ministry in this parish. He is a late vocation, a widower who decided on priesthood after his wife’s death. We are introduced to his daughter, who has attempted suicide, but has come to visit her father and talk things over with him. Which means he is a priest of some life experience, of family life, even though he reflects that he was something of a failure – and a drinker.

The action of the film is basically the priest visiting different people in the parish, a woman who does his washing, is separated from her husband, the local butcher, and is having an affair with the local garage man. She is not averse to other relationships, especially to the atheist and mocking doctor in the local hospital. But, as with the other characters, she is able to speak frankly to the priest and he is able to speak frankly with her. It is the same with her husband, the butcher. There is a young man in the village, rather prim and proper, awkward in his manner, who comes to the priest to discuss his ambitions, his personality, his sexual problems, his future. Other people he visits include the man from the garage, the local policeman and his rather exhibitionist son, a local landowner who is alienated from his family, drinks a great deal, and confesses that he cares for nothing and no one. On the lighter side, there is an old American author who welcomes the priest, getting food from him, but wanting a gun just in case he gets ill and needs to leave this world.

A significant accident occurs with the death of a foreign visitor. The priest anoints the dead man, comforts his widow, encounters her at the airport when he is inclined to leave the village and avoid his imminent death. It is the words of the widow as well as his watching two workers slouching over the dead man’s coffin, that indicate that he should go back face to face what will come.

The priest is very fond of his pet dog and is devastated when he finds the dog’s throat slit. And this follows his church being burnt down by the accuser. It is clear that the priest is moving towards Calvary. In moments of agony, he takes to drinking, returning alone to his spartan room.

This statement will not reveal who the would-be killer is or whether he goes through with his threats or not – it is the priest’s preparation and readiness which is more important than what might happen. However, one significant question for the priest is whether he wept at his dog’s death – and whether he wept at the plight of the victims of sex abuse. A key question for the church, hierarchy and laity.

John Michael Mc Donagh does have a key idea, revealed early in the film, when his daughter asks the priest about virtues. He replies that forgiveness has been underrated – something which pervades the ending of the film.

Calvary is well worth seeing, the story of a priest and his own agony and Calvary in a contemporary situation, showing contemporary problems, illustrating the response of contemporary parishioners and non-believers. The writer-director has intelligently combined problems with a portrait of a genuine, if struggling, 21st-century parish priest.

22nd July 2013

SIGNIS STATEMENT

THE CONJURING

The Conjuring is not exactly a film that would normally merit a SIGNIS Statement. However, it has been the subject of discussion in the media, especially about what the Catholic Church thinks of this kind of horror film based, allegedly, on actual events. (And, it made $42,000,000 in the United States alone in its first days of release.)

Not that it is not an interesting film, and delivers for its audiences enough scares and shocks for people to jump in their seats. The director, James Wan, was the director of the first Saw film and has made a number of horror thrillers, including Death Sentence and Insidious, to prove that he is more than adept at this kind of film.

The main interest is the theme of satanic possession, the presence of evil in the world, mediated through human beings, the experience of hauntings and the possibilities of exorcism.

The Conjuring is based on a story by Ed and Lorraine Warren, the latter acting as a consultant for the film, a Catholic couple who have been involved in investigating hauntings and possessions for many decades. Their pictures appear in the final credits as well as do the family who are the central focus of this particular film.

Because there are references to the Catholic Church in the screenplay, with the Warrens being Catholic, and having a familiarity with Catholic rituals, especially for exorcism, and consulting a priest about this particular case, many have thought that it is a Catholic film. However, it is difficult to say that The Conjuring is ‘a Catholic film’. The references are scattered, sometimes slight, relying on crucifixes and holy water, and the general statement that Hollywood writers of fond of, ‘it will need approval from the Vatican’, without explaining who in the Vatican, how or why this kind of approval is needed or given. This contrasts with the original The Exorcist, 1973, which drew on an actual case, had Jesuit advisers and used the text of the ritual exactly. It also contrasts with the film, The Rite, 2011, which showed audiences aspects of the course on exorcism currently available in Rome.
Later in the film, because the Vatican approval has not come through, Ed Warren performs the exorcism himself. The introduction to the film states that he is one of the few lay exorcists approved by the church.

This is really a haunted house film, all stops out. A family of father and mother with five daughters moves out of the city into an old house sold by the bank.

They should have checked on its reputation because it is connected, not with any Catholic history at all, but with descendants of a Salem witch of the 17th century, Satan worship in the 19th century which leads to human sacrifice and suicides. It is these characters who are haunting, wanting to get back into the world with their malevolence, taking possession of the mother (Lily Taylor subject to terrible torments), while inhabiting some of the daughters at times. So, there is religious background from the Protestant past. The haunted family is not religious at all, though the Warrens suggest it might be better if they were baptised.

But, ‘the Catholic thing’, is the background of the Warrens (Ed dying in 2006, aged 80) and Lorraine, now 86. They have been described as devout Catholics and this is taken for granted in the film. The most famous case, movie-wise, is that of the Amityville house and its haunting, filmed in 1978 as The Amityville Horror, with half a dozen sequels for television, and remade in 2005. There have been other films based on their cases, The Haunted, 1991, and A Haunting in Connecticut, 2009. They appeared in a number of television programs and are described as ‘paranormal investigators’, he a demonologist and writer, she a clairvoyant and medium.

While Ed Warren, played rather stolidly here by Patrick Wilson, mentions scepticism quite often, he and his wife, a sympathetic Vera Farmiga, give lectures which are packed out with eager students asking questions. There are some episodes where they visit a house and explain the sounds and creakings quite rationally. But it is a reminder that it is often easier to believe in a haunting than to believe in God, that the credibility of possession is more credible than that of a truly spiritual world. While the Warrens have been consistent and public in their work, there have been accusations of fraud and hoaxes.

So, The Conjuring is an entertainment of the ghosts/poltergeist/hauntings kind. The clever writers, Chad and Carey Hayes, have drawn on the conventions of the horror genre and borrowed, without depthing, some Catholic associations.

CONSPIRACY OF SILENCE

May 31st 2003

Conspiracy of Silence takes up the contemporary theme of celibacy of the Catholic clergy. It screened in the market at Cannes and has been invited to several festivals during 2003, including Taormina, Galway and Montreal.

Writer-director, John Deery, grew up in an Irish Catholic family, briefly considered becoming a priest and is still a practising Catholic. He has said that his film was not the result of immediate personal experience, nor from involvement in debates about the status of celibacy for the clergy, nor from scandals that have beset the Church, especially in Ireland, during the last decade. Rather, during the mid-90s, he said that he was reflecting on the Church at the end of the second millennium and where challenges to its relevance lay. It seemed to him that the celibacy question posed such a challenge, especially with the departure of so many priests from active ministry, the decision of so many to marry, and then the small numbers of men entering the seminaries in Western countries. How would the Church cope with fewer priests? Catholic papers in the United Kingdom featured reports recently of an Australian archbishop, making a plea for young men to come forward to be priests so that the sacraments could continue to be administered. He declared that, failing this, the Church would 'topple over' and be destroyed.

John Deery intends Conspiracy of Silence to stimulate and contribute to the debate about celibacy not being required for priesthood. The screenplay cites the history of the rule and its introduction at the beginning of the second millennium. For many Catholics, this discussion is not new. However, Pope John Paul II has reaffirmed the requirement of the vow for priests. It is current practice and is supported widely around the world. On the other hand, at the Second Vatican Council, many bishops asked for the rule to be changed so that they would have more priests available for ministry, married priests, especially in the developing world. Other bishops noted that the discipline was not observed by a significant number of priests, difficulties being highlighted in Latin America, the Philippines and Africa. However, the Council and Pope Paul VI decided against changing the law.

For some 'Catholics in the Pew', this discussion may not be familiar and could be surprising given the present practice that they are familiar with. For non-Catholic audiences, especially Christian audiences from Churches which do have married clergy, the discussion may not seem relevant except for its importance for Catholics.

John Deery has decided not to write a book, not to examine statistics, not to venture into sociological or psychological explanations, but rather to dramatise the issue in a contemporary Irish situation. His screenplay is based on research and he used Catholic technical advisers. Most Catholics will recognise dialogue, characters and many situations as authentic. They will recongnise the dilemmas of those in good faith concerning celibacy and the misconduct of some of the clergy (both sexually and in the abusive exercise of power) which have become the frequent material for headlines and media coverage and are now all too familiar.

At 87 minutes, the film is modest in scope. While celibacy is the main issue, the screenplay also raises questions of clergy in homosexual relationships, HIV infection and the tragic suicides of clergy who cannot face their situations. With a strong Irish cast, including Brenda Fricker and John Lynch and actual well-known talk-show host, Gai Byrne, the film works on the emotions first and then uses this emotional response as a basis for debating the issues.

Because the legislation is reversible, because Catholics priests of Eastern rites are able to be married and because converts from Anglicanism have been ordained as married priests, the topic is open to discussion. Were the discipline to be changed, it would make clearer the place of priest members of religious orders who take a vow of chastity and develop a particular spirituality to sustain them in their commitment.

Clearly, media interests and those in position to foster controversy, will highlight the film and its issues. It would be a pity if it were sensationalised rather than being seen as a drama and debated fruitfully.

THE CRIME OF FATHER AMARO/ EL CRIMEN DEL PADRE AMARO

December 15th 2002

The Mexican film, El Crimen del Padre Amaro, was nominated in the category of Best Foreign Language Film for the Academy Awards for the films of 2002.

When it was released in Mexico in mid-2002, it received a large amount of press coverage which highlighted its 'controversial' Catholic Church issues. The film was popular at the Mexican box-office. At the time a number of Mexican Bishops expressed their protest at the themes of the film. The secretary of SIGNIS Mexico, Rodolfo Guzman, wrote more positively of the film's technical qualities, of the treatment of the characters and their interactions, especially concerning money issues and clerical celibacy as well as the challenges to the church which such films offer to look again at structures and abuses.

Towards the end of 2002, the film was released commercially in the United States and received a negative review from the critic of the American Catholic Conference classifications office. The film was judged as vicious and corrosive and referred to some sequences as hurtful to Catholics. As with so many issues, regional and national sensibilities differ considerably and have to be taken into account when making recommendations or issuing condemnations.

El Crimen is based on a book dating from 1875, a reminder that problems of relationships between church and governments and the potential for corruption as well as difficulties with clerical celibacy are issues of long standing. This is particularly the case for nations which have centuries-old Hispanic tradition from Catholic countries and societies so different from those influenced by the 16th century Reformation, most of the countries of Europe as well as the United States.

It needs to be acknowledged that the style of the film is that of the telenovella so popular in recent years in Latin America. Critics from less emotional societies find the telenovella style particularly melodramatic, highly volatile and emotional with characters and situations often presented in broad and sweeping strokes. This is an accepted way of storytelling. As the critic for Variety shrewdly pointed out, the audiences for which El Crimen was geared would have no trouble in appreciating its style.

The Catholic Hispanic (and Iberian) culture also has a long history of what might be called anti-clericalism. 'The Mission' is a cinema reminder of 18th century clashes between civil authorities and the church in South America which led to pressure on the Pope in 1773 to suppress the Jesuits. During the 19th and 20th centuries there were the revolutions for independent nationhood as well as the 1930s Spanish Civil War. This is true of Mexico, so it is not unexpected to find a film that takes a critical look at the local church. By the 1940s, Graham Greene had written a classic novel of such Catholicism in The Power and the Glory.

El Crimen del Padre Amaro has been described as anticlerical. It is truer to say that the film is anti-clericalism rather than anti-clerical. It is critical of the power plays (clericalism) of some clergy, of misconduct by some priests and members of religious orders who profess to live exemplary lives. It does not say that all clergy are like this. In fact, one of the heroes of the film is a priest who tries to live the Gospel injunctions of service to the poor and oppressed but who becomes the victim of the power plays, this clericalism. The film also presents sequences of bizarre and supersitious religious practices. The broad sweep does not necessairly imply general condemnation as is sometimes felt by audiences whose sensitivity is bruised by such presentations. A film about individual or group police corruption or political corruption is not necessarily anti-police or anti-government.

With the contemporary contempt for official organisations (the misconduct of financial corporations, the lack of credibility of government action), it is not unexpected that Church organisations are targets for criticism. Since the Church has always acknowledged that it comprises both saints and sinners, that the Church continually needs reforming (the old Latin adage, Ecclesia semper reformanda), the actions of sinners, no matter how distasteful and hurtful for those strongly committed to their Church, are able to be dramatised, criticised and, where necessary, be held accountable.

These are the implications of a film like El Crimen del Padre Amaro. Documented material would indicate that the lack of commitment to vows of celibacy are not rare, that officials can be corrupted by financial ambition or greed, that drugs, dealing and export are a continual problem in many Latin American countries. These are some of the topics of El Crimen. The implication of the critique offered by the film of several of the central characters is that this is not what the Church professes and not what its members expect it to be like. So, the film offers a challenge to an examination of conscience and the need for reform.

THE DA VINCI CODE

SIGNIS issued a press release from Cannes after the screening of The Da Vinci Code which opened the Festival.

Cannes 17th May 2006.

‘MUCH ADO ABOUT VERY LITTLE.'

A film which, finally, the Church has little to be concerned about.

Many Christians from different backgrounds and sensibilities were anxious about the release of the film of The Da Vinci Code, directed by Ron Howard. However, far from being a cinema masterpiece, the film is simply a popular entertainment. While the early scenes set us on an exciting treasure hunt, the wordiness of the drawn out twists of the later part of the film will disappoint many cinemagoers.

A film is something that no one need be afraid of. It is a personal or a commercial venture. The novel attempted to persuade its readers that some dubious hypotheses and some mumbo-jumbo theories were true. The film wants rather to please everyone and not upset them too much. The writers have added quite a number of dialogue exchanges which downplay the more controversial statements of the novel about the Church, the divinity of Jesus, the role of Mary Magdalene and even Opus Dei.

The media controversy which followed the publication of the novel has led to an enormous impact from the promotion campaigns for the film. We hope that the Church can benefit from this phenomenon in explaining the theological foundations of faith and the hopes of all Christians.

__



SIGNIS STATEMENT THE DA VINCI CODE

Peter Malone

17-5-06


Further questions and considerations on The Da Vinci Code

1.WAS THE FILM WELL MADE?

The film is, first and foremost, a visualising of the novel.

The locations are one of the most important features: Paris, the French countryside, London, Edinburgh are shown to great advantage and will please audiences. There is attention to detail in the Louvre, Saint Sulpice, the night streets of Paris, Westminster Abbey (with Lincoln Cathedral standing in for the Abbey interiors), the Temple Church in London, Rosslyn Chapel.

The cast is commercially strong, although Tom Hanks delivers one of his more stolid performances as the mid-40s academic, reciting ‘facts’ and suggesting alternate hypotheses in a very po-faced manner. Audrey Tautou is tres francaise as Sophie. Ian Mc Kellen obviously relishes his role as the villain, giving it more flair than Dan Brown might have imagined. Jean Reno does his weary and earnest policeman turn and Alfred Molina is the heterodoxly orthodox bishop. Paul Bettany has to snarl, writhe and erupt violently as Silas. They bring the characters to melodramatic life.

The film includes many flashbacks. Some are to the early life of Sophie Neveu and some to a well accident suffered by Robert Langdon when he was seven leading to adult claustrophobic dread. We see more of the sadistic treatment of Silas when he was young.

There are also some ‘historical’ flashbacks to Mary Magdalene pregnant, leaving Jerusalem at the time of the Crucifixion and giving birth to a daughter in France; there are brief re-creations of Templar battle activity and some sinister papal dealings. The brief flashback to squabbling bishops at the Council of Nicaea looks ludicrous. There is also an alarming flashback to the persecution and execution of witches by the Church. The style is desaturated colour, unpolished digital style photography that suggests art work, both painted and sketched.

Ron Howard has not been afraid to offer many subtitled sequences for a general public. The French characters speak in French to each other. The Opus Dei bishop, Silas and The Teacher communicate in Latin.

Akiva Goldsman has kept quite closely to the plot outline of the novel. However, he and the screen doctors have been seriously at work taking notice of church responses, especially the negative criticisms of ideas, hypotheses and conclusions, and have introduced a great number of modifying pieces of dialogue, suggesting that many of the statements made by characters could have different interpretations or be wrong. This means the film causes far less concern than the novel. However, the basic ingredients of hypothesis and ecclesiastical cover-up are all there.

For those familiar with the plot line and the issues, the film will satisfy as a fairly faithful rendition of the book. Those who read the book and were irritated may be somewhat mollified. For those who have not read the book and for whom the issues are unfamiliar and bizarre, or esoteric nonsense, they may well be baffled – and laugh, as did the first Cannes Festival press preview audience at the solemn utterances of how Sophie was in fact the Grail and the direct descendent of Jesus.

So, a Gnostic potboiler and some re-writing of history.


2.DOES THE FILM STAY CLOSE TO THE NOVEL?

As indicated earlier, the film retains the basic outline of the novel and the central characters and action. To this extent, it is very close. The flashbacks mentioned are a development from the novel.

The main difference is the introduction of so many sections of dialogue which throw some doubt on the claims about Jesus’ divinity as a doctrine being imposed by Constantine on the Council of Nicaea. There are also some questions as to the historical validity of the Gnostic Gospels and a Gospel of Mary Magdalene. The contemporary Vatican is distanced from the secret goings on of the secret French Catholic society which wants to protect the church (even by murder) from the claims about Mary Magdalene. Opus Dei is not villainous as in the book. Rather, some members behave in a sinister way. Could anyone really think that Silas, with this behaviour, is in any way typical of the organisation?


3.OPUS DEI?

Representatives of Opus Dei requested Sony Pictures to add a disclaimer to the film print stating that the treatment of the organisation was fictitious. Sony declined.

However, the equivalent of disclaimer has been incorporated into the screenplay. In the film, it is not really Opus Dei who are the villains ordering murders to protect the Church. Rather, it is individuals who do belong to Opus Dei but do not represent it. Bishop Aringarosa (which means ‘red herring’) takes the responsibility for this. He also belongs to a very secret and secretive group of church personages who are the ecclesiastical equivalent of the Priory of Sion – who are more in the vein of the followers of Archbishop Lefebvre in their doctrinal attitudes than of Opus Dei. Bishop Aringarosa condemns ‘cafeteria Catholicism’ and his goal is the protection and purity of the Church.

A scene is inserted where the Bishop is interviewed (just after we have seen Silas whipping himself and removing the chain – dug deep into his leg and drawing blood – that Opus Dei members wear for some hours a day. The bishop points out in his interview the different kinds of members of Opus Dei and the limitations of their penitential practices.

4.IS THE FILM MISLEADING?

The word often used in recent statements from Opus Dei is that the novel is ‘misleading’. That is a useful word because it is true and because it does not sound defensive.

Once again, the screenplay has inserted a number of statements and questions, spoken by the authoritative Robert Langdon that serve as warnings to make the audience careful. He refers to ‘sifting the truth’ from the documents and theories. He gives a mini-lecture on the ‘re-writing of history’ and ‘historical distortions’. During his opening presentation on art, he display different slides to the students asking them for the subjects only to show a fuller picture to show Poseidon’s fork rather than the devil’s and what looks at first glance like a Madonna and child is Osiris. He then remarks that the mind sees what it wants to see and does not see what it does not want to see. He also explains that a picture is worth a thousand words: ‘but which words?’.

There is already an extensive industry concerning the theories underlying The Da Vinci Code. Websites proliferate, with the Opus Dei site registering hundreds of thousands of hits. Evangelical Christians have produced an overwhelming number of articles, pamphlets, books, CDs and DVDs answering the difficulties. They have taken it as an opportunity for dialogue about significant theological and historical issues. Several Catholic hierarchies (Scottish and US, for instance) are releasing their own DVDs on the occasion of the film’s opening. The US Bishops conference video is called Jesus Decoded.

As indicated, the screenplay is at pains to suggest to the audience that there are alternative positions on all the controversial areas. The Vatican and Opus Dei are not presented as the villains of the drama.

Issues which could preoccupy some viewers:

the hypotheses veer away from the four accepted Gospels (except in some discussions about the Last Supper) and put all the narrative emphasis on apocryphal and Gnostic Gospels of the 2nd or 3rd centuries (or later) without acknowledging that it was a common enough practice in the early church for writers wanting to fill in the traditional gospel stories with more colourful detail to invent their own Gospels and ascribe them to a New Testament personality. They often gave names to unnamed Gospel characters – it is only in this period that names like Salome, Dismas, Longinus first appear. Some writers wanted to illustrate their particular spirituality of hidden knowledge being revealed to them by the Holy Spirit or to advance the status of particular Gospel characters. These latter were Gnostic Gospels.

the hypothesis that Jesus was merely human, certainly a great prophet, and that this was the thinking of the early church until the 4th century – which ignores the writings of John and Paul, many of the early writers like Justin or Iranaeus and the records of theological disputes before and leading up to the Council of Nicaea where Constantine did not impose the divinity of Jesus on the participants. (Actually, the 4th century church was still divided for many decades on opinions on whether Jesus was equal to the Father or subordinate (the widespread heresy of Arianism), not a Constantine-unified Christianity throughout the Roman Empire.)

the hypothesis that Mary Magdalene was married to Jesus, pregnant at the time of the Crucifixion and fled to France where she gave birth to a daughter. This is all much later speculation.

Stories of the Grail – which did not emerge until the early Middle Ages with the tales written by Chretien de Troyes. These became popular and encouraged several more books on the Grail and locations where it was taken (to Spain, to Glastonbury in England where Arthur’s knights could go on quests). The screenplay suggests that Christian faith is centred on the Grail as the cup of the last supper – which would be news to most Christians.

The development of the code of the Grail, that it be interpreted not as SAN GRAEL (the holy vessel) but as SANG REAL (the holy blood). Sir Leigh Teabing explains this with power point illustration in the film.

This has led to the hypothesis that Mary Magdalene was the Grail, holding the child of Jesus in her grail-womb, the vessel of the holy blood royal. Which is where Leonardo da Vinci comes in with the speculation that John in his painting of the Last Supper is really Mary Magdalene, linked to Jesus in a feminine V space, thus establishing the Sacred Feminine – which means that Mary Magdalene’s story was suppressed in favour of Peter’s authority in the early Church. She should have been the leader of the church – which, of course, means male cover-up and a 2000 year old lie.

For those who would like a clearer exposition of this, the film does supply one: the speech that Ian McKellen?, as Sir Leigh Teabang, makes in the middle of the film. He truly believes it. Robert Langdon keeps offering cautions. Sophie is a sceptical listener.

The Priory of Sion, alleged to have been founded in 1099, a continuation of groups protecting the secret of the Grail. Many television programs have played interviews recently with the French originators of the Priory of Sion in the 1950s. However, prior to the plagiarism trial against Dan Brown in the UK earlier in 2006, Richard Baigent, co-author of the 1982 Holy Blood and Holy Grail, declares that underlying the fiction is a reality.

The press kit made available to journalists at the film’s release is quite open about the Priory of Sion being an invention.

The Knights Templar. There is a lot of truth in the portrayal of the Templars though speculation about their acquiring wealth from pilgrims to the Holy Land needs examining as does the lead up to their suppression in 1307. the screenplay lays the blame for this and their persecution on the Pope of the time who looks like a caricature villain in his non-speaking cameo. Equal or more time should have been given to King Philip of France who really wanted them suppressed and achieved this end.

Witches. Dan Brown gave a heightened figure of witches executed, more than a million. The screenplay gives the horrific but more accurate figure of 50,000 over several centuries.

5.IS IT MISLEADING TO MEDDLE WITH HISTORY FOR FICTION’S SAKE?

Authors do this all the time. Some readers with a bent for accuracy prefer to read history or watch documentaries rather than fiction based on history. (however, the writing or screening of ‘history’ is never as it ‘really was’; there is always a point of view, selection of what facts and events are included and what excluded; the criteria for choices means interpretation.). Other readers enjoy interpretation and a certain freedom of interpreting the facts and events for dramatic purposes. The validity of the interpretation is more important than complete accuracy.

It can be said that the Gospel tradition, from the preaching of Jesus to the preaching of the Apostles and the later writing down of the stories means that we should not be looking first and foremost for accuracy in the Gospel accounts but the validity of the truth.

Shakespeare did it, of course. And we all believe that Mark Anthony made a speech staring with ‘Friends, Romans, countryman’! In Verona, a tourist may visit the tombs of Romeo and Juliet (when one dismayed visitor noted, ‘They’re empty!).

Films about the lives of the saints receive this kind of treatment. Films on St Francis of Assisi sometimes tell the legendary stories of the Little Flowers of St Francis (Rossellini), or see Francis and Clare as the flower people of the 13th century (Zeffirelli) or present a traditional Francis for the early 1960s 1960s (Curtiz) or a more earthy Francis for the 1990s in the form of Mickey Rourke (Cavani).

It is the same with the even more numerous films about Joan of Arc, the action of the Dauphin and the presidency of the court of Bishop Cauchon (incarnated in Luc Besson’s version by Dustin Hoffman).

On a less saintly level, look at all the books and films and hypotheses on who was Jack the Ripper.

The Da Vinci Code has led to amusing imitations of a secular kind which nobody, it seems, has been tempted to think are true. The Legend of Zorro has a French aristocrat come to California with a power conspiracy for power. More to the point, the entertaining actioner, National Treasure, with Nicolas Cage has a similar Templar treasure story. This time, they transported their vast (by the look of it at the end of the film) treasure to the Americas. And where is the Code hidden? On the back of the Declaration of Independence, written in invisible ink. Has there been a rush, like that to Saint Sulpice or to Rosslyn Chapel, to Philadelphia?

Of course, the Da Vinci Code goes to some core Christian beliefs which means the hypotheses, however ill-based or however ludicrous, are taken more seriously.


6.IS THE DA VINCI CODE FAITH THREATENING?

No one need be afraid of a novel now matter who provocative? As with the Da Vinci Code, there are more than enough experts available, both Christian and secular, who have answered the claims and shown how some of them are hoaxes and others do not bear close historical, literary, art history, architectural history scrutiny.

It should be said, however, that cleverly portrayed fiction (and sweeping generalisations) have a great power to appeal and are an enticement to persuade. They work on our feelings more than on our brains – and they appeal to the conspiratorial and wary suspicion syndrome that most of us have. (I was taken aback when it was first pointed out that the figure of John looks more like a woman in Leonardo’s Last Supper and was ready for anything until the wily Sir Leigh Teabing, right in the middle of the press preview, asked Sophie Neveu if she noticed that Leonardo had painted only bread on his table. There was no cup or chalice! Ergo, he was saying that Mary Magdalene was the cup, she was the Grail.)

We all need to check our gullibility quotient. We all need to check our wariness of religious authorities, drawing on those we have disliked and generalising in our suspicions.

On the other hand, we have had the phenomenon of pious and devout people who prefer oil-weeping Madonna statues in suburbia or the likeness of Jesus’ face in a root of asparagus (a 2006 British experience) to the Gospels and concentrate their prayer there instead of to the revelation of the scriptures.

Actually, The Da Vinci Code has made us think

DELIVER US FROM EVIL

March 2007

Those who watched the telecast of the Academy Awards in February 2007 will have noticed that one of the nominees for Best Feature-length Documentary was Deliver us from Evil. There was a brief clip of a cleric giving video testimony in court. The film did not win. The Oscar went to Al Gore and An Inconvenient Truth.

"A call for an examination of conscience for the Catholic church and a call for compassion for the victims of this abuse"

An Inconvenient Truth could have been the title of Deliver us from Evil . The stories of clerical abuse have been with us for more than twenty years, although the wide American focus came as late as 2002. The truth has certainly been inconvenient but it has also been appalling. It has been a call for an examination of conscience for the Catholic church and a call for compassion for the victims of this abuse. The question of how to deal with offending clergy has also been very difficult and has caused many moral, legal and financial problems.

Somebody wisely pointed out that, until the recent revelations, the sexual abuse of minors was not considered by many (most?) people as a crime. It was judged as a sin, certainly, but a sin required different handling from a crime. Events have led the Church to realise that it is dealing with a crime that has police and judicial repercussions not simply a pastoral question as to whether a priest be corrected and moved to another place of ministry hoping that he has repented and will not offend again. The traditional act of contrition may have given rise to the belief that all could be well, easily well if one made strong acts of the will: ‘and I firmly resolve by the help of thy grace never to sin again and amend my life. Amen’. In reality, the abuser of under age minors, especially, has a serious psychological aberrant condition and needs treatment as well as being put out of the way of harm to children.

These themes are explored in Deliver us from Evil, a meticulously made documentary by a director, Amy Berg, who is not a Christian and is looking at the issues from outside the Church. Clearly, there will be argument about some of the detail included and Amy Berg’s interpretation but she sought advice and legal counsel about the truth of the claims made in the film.

The focus of the film is Fr Oliver O’ Grady, an Irishman who worked in Northern California, from the 1960s to the 1980s. The film has significant ramifications for the Church today as, prior to his appointment to be archbishop of Los Angeles in 1985, Cardinal Roger Mahoney was auxiliary bishop in Fresno (1975-1980), bishop of Stockton (1980-1985).

Oliver O’ Grady emerges from the film as, at least, self-delusional. On the one hand, he admits what he has done. On the other, he cheerfully excuses himself and compartmentalises his behaviour. As a portrait of a priest offending over decades, the film offers an alarming portrait.

In September 2005, the BBC’s Panorama program featured Oliver O ’Grady. The film-maker, himself a victim of abuse in Ferns, Ireland, asked O’ Grady to indicate how he ‘groomed’ a young girl for abuse. He cheerfully did so, straight to camera, an astonishing performance (and the BBC, to its discredit, featured this sequence in the promotion of the broadcast as well as including it at the head of the program as well as during it). Fr O’ Grady’s behaviour and comments as late as 2006 are bizarre and reprehensible.

Deliver us from Evil works dramatically and powerfully. The range of interviews with victims and their parents are placed throughout the film. They have been judiciously selected so that the audience shares the experience of the families, the initial welcome to Fr O’ Grady as he took a pastoral interest in them and became firm friends, being invited to meals and becoming part of the family. Families did not realise what was happening to their children. Such behaviour on the part of a priest was unthinkable to most.

As the truth emerged and Fr O’ Grady went to different parishes in Northern California, the families were surprised, dismayed and shocked. Their outbursts, especially on the part of one Japanese- American father, are kept to the end so that, dramatically, the audience shares his pain. Some of the victims are also interviewed and tell the sad aspects of their stories.

Along with the chronicle of the history of Fr O’ Grady’s activities are the testimonies of Cardinal Mahoney and different church officials from Stockton diocese. Since the United States uses videocameras for depositions, the film incorporates footage of the actual questions and answers.

This is where there can be some controversy. The director has selected particular sections - and they sound to the detriment of the churchmen. The cross-examination shows that, as we realise, bishops were not so well informed about the nature of abuse, especially its criminality, and made decisions to move priests around - which resulted in further abuse. On the one hand, one can argue that in retrospect, bishops made poor decisions which resulted in some disastrous behaviour. On the other, we have more clarity now than then and it is easy to be judgmental in looking back. However, what is important is what is to be done now in terms of truth, justice and reparation.

Oliver O’ Grady participated in the making of this film. He has been extradited to Ireland after serving his sentence in the US. His behaviour in Ireland, especially in terms of writing to his victims, indicate an erratic personality, and his being something of a showman.

One more alarming aspect of the film is the featuring of Fr Tom Doyle who, since the 1980s and his working in Washington DC and becoming involved in Bishops Conference decisions, has been something of a whistleblower and a friend of victims. He makes some very strong and critical statements during the film which also need examination and attention.

A useful exercise is to look at the Internet Movie Database on line referencing Deliver us from Evil and read the comments posted there by viewers of the film who feel free to offer their opinions for and against. There are some intellectual arguments there, some appeals to emotion, and quite some anger. Googling

Oliver O’ Grady provides quite a number of entries with information about him and his offences.

More information on www.deliverusfromevilthemovie.com

DELIVER US FROM EVIL.

July 21, 2014.


It is over forty years since The Exorcist made such an impact on worldwide audiences as well as on critics. Almost immediately there were many imitations, some of them spoofs from Italy, then a number of serious sequels and variations on the theme. While there have been some lulls in release of films of diabolical possession and exorcisms, there has been an increase since 2005, and there is no sign that it is abating.

A significant question is: why do audiences worldwide continue to have a fascination in the phenomenon of diabolical possession and the rituals of exorcism?

It can be noted that one of the best of these films in recent years, based on fact in the United States as well as in the course offered in Rome for those interested in exorcism, was The Rite (2011), with Anthony Hopkins as a Jesuit priest.

Perhaps it is the “Francis-effect” with the impact of Pope Francis and his Jesuit background, but here is another film with a priest confidently announcing that he is a Jesuit. As the film progresses, Jesuits may wonder whether he is the kind of role model that they would like.

This statement is not advocating Deliver Us from Evil as a great film about exorcism or even a good one. It is rather something of a potboiler with some interesting moments about Catholic themes and the problem of evil.

As regards the plot, the screenplay draws on elements of the original The Exorcist and its sequels, with mysterious goings on in the Middle East, especially with Demons. The screenplay is up-to-date insofar as there are three American soldiers in Iraq in 2010, going down into a vault, with video camera, smelling strange odours, finding a message on the wall, photographing the material. But, three years later, each of the soldiers is in violent crisis back in New York City, one brutalising his wife, another found dead while doing a painting job, the third, present in a sinister manner at the Bronx Zoo, actually possessed.

The possessed man is confronted by a New York police officer, Ralph Sarchie, who wrote a book about the experience and vouches for its truth (sounds more like PR than actuality). In the confrontation with the possessed man, he encounters a Jesuit priest, Father Mendoza, who has had a difficult drug past, experienced some conversion which included belief in God and becoming a Jesuit, with some lapses (which could cause some difficulties in the contemporary context of sexual misconduct), but has become an expert in psychiatry and working with people in violent mental difficulties and possession.

This is a New York police story, there is plenty of action, quite an amount of violence and deaths.

For Christian audience, especially Catholics, it is the Jesuit character who is of interest, although the police officer has been a lapsed Catholic from the age or 12, denying a God who did not intervene in an attack on his family. Father Mendoza makes a distinction between Primary Evil and Secondary Evil, the latter being the destructive experiences in most people’s lives. His focus on Primary Evil is on the unexplained presence of pervasive evil, the dichotomy, we might say, between God and the Devil, Primary Evil being a continual menace in the world.

When the detective wants to upbraid God because of not intervening in disaster, Father Mendoza says that they could talk all day on the problem of evil but they should focus on the problem of good, why so much good in the world – and he makes the point that God relies on us humans to intervene and help with God’s work for good. And the pertinent example is that of the detective and others in their police work confronting criminals and bringing them to justice. Father Mendoza uses the language of Ignatian “discernment” but it is a fairly basic and unnuanced description that he gives. However, he does persuade the detective to make a confession, sacramental, where a detective confronts his memories of dealing with a child abuser, beating him to death in his anger. The priest points out that vengeance was done on the abuser but not justice, and that vengeance normally stays with the avenger, contaminating the avenger’s life.

This does provide an interesting religious core to the film.

One reviewer expressed surprise that ain exorcism should take place in a police interrogation room. But, why not? Whether the scene is an authentic interpretation of the official ritual is not always clear, Father Mendoza explaining the six steps in the process of exorcism and proceeding then to pray, to demand the demon’s name, to oust the demon (with just a few special effects to remind us of The Exorcist). The production team could have well done with a Catholic adviser because Father Mendoza uses “Holy Ghost” instead of Holy Spirit and the colour of his stole for the exorcism is blue!

Edgar Ramirez, long hair, somewhat unkempt, a jogger, a heavy smoker (which he sees as a better addiction than many others), is meant to be an image of the contemporary priest. Eric Bana is the detective and Sean Harris the former soldier who is possessed. It is interesting to note that the film was directed by Scott Derrickson, an American director with a Presbyterian background, who made the far more effective The Exorcism of Emily Rose (2005) and a very effective haunted house film, Sinister (2011).

An example of the current trend of possession and exorcism films, a police-action thriller with some acknowledgement of theological and religious themes.

DES HOMMES ET DES DIEUX   OF GODS AND MEN
 
19 May 2010
 

One of the finest religious films, and one of the best Catholic films, in years.
 
No controversy here.  The film won the Ecumenical Prize at Cannes 2010.  It also won the Grand Prix du Jury from the festival itself.
 
The subject is the Trappist community of Mt Atlas, Algeria, in the 1990s.  Living their monastic life amongst the local people and ministering to them, especially with medical services, they were viewed more and more with suspicion in the country, especially because they were French expatriates, by government troops who were becoming more active against the increasing terrorist attacks, and by the terrorists themselves.  Seven of the monks were killed in the latter part of May, 1996.
 
While the film expertly builds up the background of post-colonial Algeria, corrupt government, extreme Islamists imposing something like Taliban terror in the towns and villages, the role of the military  is ambiguous.  Later, and with stronger evidence emerging in recent years with documentation more open and available, the violence perpetrated by both sides, including the military is now under review.  The centre of the film, however, is the life of the monks and their preparation for death.
 
Filmed in Morocco, the film is both beautiful and austere in its landscapes and in the interiors of the monastery – and in the interior lives of the monks and their commitment to God and to their order.
 
The director, Xavier Beauvois, shows an instinct for depicting the detail of monastic life with sensitivity and a strong awareness of what it means.  His technical advisers have offered expert information which he has absorbed.  And the casting is perfect.  The actors look, move, speak and act as if they were authentic monks.  Lambert Wilson shows the complexity of a man elected to be superior but who has a tendency to make decisions himself but is ultimately willing to be guided in discernment by the whole community.  They are eight, while a visiting monk at the end is caught up in the tragedy.  Veteran Michael Lonsdale is the ageing doctor who shows practical wisdom in his medical skills and down-to-earth counsel as well as in his religious life.
 
There is a very striking sequence (making us wonder how we would handle such a situation) where the leader of the rebels comes to demand the doctor come to his camp to tend to a wounded man.  The superior stands his ground, says that weapons are not allowed in the grounds and offers to speak outside the walls.  He also refuses to give medicine, stating that they cannot give what they have not got.  The leader accepts this after they exchange a quotation from the Quran.  He offers his hand to the superior to shake.  The superior accepts and explains that it is Christmas eve, which the leader understands.  Later, the superior and the community will marvel at what they did and how they then went to celebrate Midnight Mass.
 
The film is able to cover all aspects of the religious routine of the monastery in accurate detail (allowing for Trappists to point out some small things which may not be quite right, but these are not evident to a Catholic eye).  In fact, it communicates the life and spirit, the prayer, Eucharist, sung liturgy, silence and contemplation, the detachment of the vow of poverty, the taken-for-granted sacrifices of the vow of chastity, the work, the meals and the readings, the community meetings, the outreach.  This is shown in episodes throughout the film which are as effective, even more effective, than a documentary.  The film could well serve as a recruitment vehicle because it shows the life as both credible and authentic.
 
The screenplay does not shy away from deep and reflective words which support the visual action.  First of all, the words from the scriptures are most apt, especially about two together, one taken, one left, and the text on losing and gaining one’s life.  But, each of the monks is given several opportunities to speak about his vocation and his commitment.  This is stronger as the risk situation becomes more dangerous and their lives are threatened.
 
All the time, the audience is challenged to wonder what they would do in such dangerous circumstances, especially after official advice from the area is given, recommending the monks leave and return to France.  At a community gathering, the superior asks them all to give voice to whether each wanted to stay or leave.  Some speak in favour of leaving and explain why: family, illness, the opportunity to continue their work elsewhere.  Some are still uncertain.  Others wish to stay, intuitively knowing that this is where God wanted them to be.
 
After this, each of the monks has to discern his path in terms of his commitment and understanding of God’s will.  One of the monks experiences dark night in his prayer and the sequence where the superior listens, allows him to voice his doubts, is moving, and enables him to find some peace of soul.
 
After the advice to leave, the monks listen to the opinions of the local people, especially those who come to the monastery for medical help.  Their argument is that the monks remain in solidarity with the people.  At the final discernment meeting, this argument is given great attention, with Gospel backing and the spirituality of Jesus who stayed faithful until his death.  This inevitability of death has been shown to great dramatic effect in the 1989 film Romero, where the archbishop of San Salvador knows that his words and actions and the anger of his opponents can lead only to death.
 
For an audience wanting to know and understand something deeper about Christian spirituality, something deeper underlying, despite  the sins and failures of the church and of church people and the consequent anger at abuse and scandals, these scenes offer a great deal to ponder.
 
So does the letter that the superior writes before the monks are abducted in vans, audio-taped for their identity, knowing that they are hostages, and led into the snow and the mountains to their deaths.  He goes over the decisions and the motivation but also acknowledges that the monks have lived in a Muslim country with its Quranic ideals and spirituality and its God, far from the fanaticism of those who do not really read their scriptures fully or are caught up in bellicose righteousness.  There is a quotation from Pascal about the satisfaction in war of those who fight because of religious conviction – which may be merely a worldly ideology rather than religion.  The superior's development of the theology of the incarnation and how they themselves will live this theology as they go to death in the same way that Jesus did.
 
These Trappists of Algeria were not considered saints in the ordinariness of their religious lives.  They did their best.  However, faced with the reality of impending death, like many a religious or a secular hero, they found their depths, despite any fear, and discovered a martyr’s saintliness in giving a life for others.  The director offers this very movingly, without words, as the community sits to enjoy something of a last supper together, the camera focusing on each, their smiles, then their tears, then their deep resignation, drinking a glass of wine together, and all to the powerful rhythms and melodies of Tchaikowsky’s Swan Lake.
 
Perhaps this makes it sound as if the film is offering a sermon rather than a movie story.  It is a movie first and foremost and that is how it delivers its message, through story and in words and moving images.

THE CHURCH IN TRANSITION: DOUBT

2nd December 2008

Doubt is a film of strong Catholic interest.

It can be viewed in the light of the current Church experience of sexual abuse by clergy. However, this is not the central issue of the film. Doubt is a film about Church structures, hierarchy, the exercise of power and the primacy of discipline and order.

Set in the autumn of 1964 in the Bronx, New York, the film focuses on the suspicions of the primary school principal, Sister Aloysius, that the local priest and chaplain to the school, Fr Flynn, is taking an unhealthy interest in one of the students, aged twelve. There are some suggestions, several ambiguous clues, about what might have happened but the actual events remain unclear as the priest defends himself against the nun' strong intuition against him and the nun discusses the problem with the boy's mother. As the title of the film indicates, the drama leaves the truth unclear because it is the stances of the two characters in conflict, especially the determined nun and the truth struggle, the power struggle, the conscience struggle, that is the point of the film.

John Patrick Shanley (Oscar for the screenplay for Moonstruck and a prolific playwright) has adapted and opened out his Pulitzer-prize winning play for the screen and directed it himself. Shanley has indicated that he is not so much concerned with the issue of clerical abuse of children as of pitting two characters against each other to highlight the uncertainties of certainty and the nature of doubt. The drama is all the more powerful because of its naturalistic atmosphere, recreating the period and the life of the school, the convent and the rectory, and because of the powerful performances by Meryl Streep as Sister Aloysius and Philip Seymour Hoffman as Fr Flynn. Amy Adams gives contrasting support as the gentle and somewhat naïve Sister James who teaches the children. Viola Davis is the mother of the boy.

It can be noted that the nun on whom the film's Sister James was based and who taught Shanley at school in the Bronx has acted as a technical adviser. The film, by contrast with so many others, represents the details of Church and liturgical life accurately – although there is a breviary in English, which was not the case in 1964, the children sing the Taize Ubi Caritas at Mass although it was composed later and Sister James is allowed to go to visit her sick brother which most nuns were not permitted to do at that time. However, the film has a Catholic atmosphere which, while it might baffle audiences who were not there at the time, will ring true and bring back many memories to Catholics who lived through this strict period.

As with most organisations by the beginning of the 1960s, secular or religious, the Catholic Church was hierarchically structured. Everyone knew their place, whether they liked it or not. A pervading Gospel spirit of charity and service pervaded the Church but it was often exercised in a way that seemed harsh and demanding, especially by those who saw their authority being backed by a 'grace of state'. Many of those who left the Church in this era give anecdotes of the treatment they received from priests and nuns as reasons for their departure, even of their loss of faith. When John XXIII called the Second Vatican Council in January 1959 and it opened on October 11th 1962, in his phrase, windows were opened, and change began to sweep through the Church. This coincided with the changes, especially in Western society during the 1960s and the widespread protests symbolised by the Vietnam War and the hippy movement. In fact, this was also the decade of enormous changes in Africa and the moves for independence. Independence was a key word of the 1960s.

This is the theme that Doubt takes up.

Sister Aloysius

Sister Aloysius, who, we learn, is a widow, is a strong-minded superior of the strict, intervening school of religious life. She sees herself as an authority figure and what she says goes. This was the spirituality of God's will spoken through the Superior – though, in retrospect, this often seems more the whim of the superior. She believes in discipline and she does not expect to be liked. She trusts her intuitions and assumes that they are correct. She does show some consideration to the health and mental states of the older sisters and has moments of kindness to Sister James but, the kind of Church and religious life she has inherited mean that she is constantly on the alert, wants proper order everywhere and sees herself in the chain of hierarchical authority that goes up via parish priest, bishop, to Rome and to the Holy Father.

Shanley is giving us an image of this kind of nun and her ethos and religious motivations. At its best and worst this can be seen in Fred Zinneman's The Nun's Story (filmed in 1958 while Pius XII was still alive and the assumption was that this is how religious life would be forever) but released in 1959 after John XXIII had called the Council which asked for renewal in all religious orders. Sister Aloysius is experiencing the first signs of a more transparent church, a church where a more adult obedience and discernment would replace any blind obedience and any childish exercise of power. A year after the story of Doubt, the Council would issue its Constitution on the Church which would respect hierarchy but interpret the life of the Church as that of the People of God, with the principles of subsidiarity and shared responsibility.

Fr Flynn

This kind of Church is what Fr Flynn is foreshadowing in the film. It is not as if there were not friendly priests – Fr Bing Crosby received frowns from Fr Barry Fitzgerald in the 1944 Oscar-winner, Going My Way, for being too open and relaxed – and got into some trouble with the school principal, Ingrid Bergman, in The Bells of St Mary's, both films being interesting companion pieces to Doubt.

At the opening of the film, Fr Flynn gives a sermon on experiencing doubts. This cuts no ice with Sister Aloysius. Fr Flynn is already on her hit list because of his friendliness towards the children in the school. He coaches basketball. He talks with the children and affirms them. This kind of pastoral outreach was about to be encouraged by the Council's document on priesthood.

The film also offers a contrast between the silent, rather ascetical meals in the convent with the jovial conversation and joking at the priests' parish table.

Certainties and doubts

The confrontations between Sister Aloysius and Fr Flynn become quite desperate for Fr Flynn when he realises that the nun is so certain and dominating and has taken investigations into her own hands rather than respecting him as a person let alone a priest. We see the conflict between the old authoritarian style and the new, more personable style of interactions. While Shanley himself states that he has some sympathy for the old ways, rituals, silence and devotion, his drama clearly shows the inadequacy of the authoritarian hierarchical model of Church in dealing with human relationships. Something had to change. And it did.

The sisters in the film are the Sisters of Charity founded in the 19th century by Elizabeth Bayley Seton,canonised a saint in 1975, and they are still wearing her dress/habit and bonnet. Within the decade, that would change, sisters wearing a less formal habit or ordinary clothes with an emblem indicating their religious order. Community life would be less rigid as would the relationships between the sisters. There would be different relationships between the parish clergy and the sisters would worked in the parish.

Doubt offers an opportunity to look at the two models of Church and to assess their strengths and weaknesses, especially in the light of subsequent events and the nature and life of the Church at the present day.

The film wants to create doubts in the minds and emotions of the audience by contrasting the two styles of pastoral outreach, Sister Aloysius as stern, Fr Flynn as amiable. As regards the doubts about Fr Flynn's behaviour, contrasting clues are offered: Fr Flynn's manner and friendliness with the boys, his singling out Donald for attention, Donald's drinking the altar wine in the sacristy and Sister Aloysius' conclusion that Fr Flynn had given it to him, Fr Flynn's calling Donald out of class to the rectory and Sister James' wariness about this. On the other hand, Fr Flynn has explanations of Donald being the only African American boy in the school and the antipathy and bullying he received and wanting him to remain as an altar boy despite the offence which required his being dismissed as a server, his drinking the wine because of his father's beating him because he suspected his homosexual orientation. This is complicated by the conversation between Sister Aloysius and Donald's mother whose sole concern, irrespective of what Fr Flynn might have done or not done and her husband's violent treatment of Donald, is that Donald remain in the school for the next sixth months so that he will graduate and have the opportunity to go to a good high school.

Shanley's images of Sister Aloysius at the end indicates that he believes we should all have doubts and not take the moral high ground of untested certainties.

(There are several films that take up this transition in the Church in the aftermath of the Second Vatican Council. At the time, there were some films about nuns handling the changes: The Trouble With Angels, Where Angels Go... Trouble Follows and Change of Habit. The small-budget film, Impure Thoughts (1981) has some very funny scenes of reminiscences about sisters and prriests in a parish school of 1961; Heaven Help us (1985)is set in a Franciscan boy's high school in 1965. This was the year Paul VI went to New York and addressed the United Nations – an event which is part of the background of Polanski's film of Rosemary's Baby. For a stronger focus on the changes for nuns at the time, the Australian mini-series, Brides of Christ, is probably the best. A telemovie, starring Kate Mulgrew as Mother Seton, about the founding of the Sisters of Charity is A Time for Miracles (1980).)

ELIZABETH – THE GOLDEN AGE

November 3rd 2007

This week’s movie headlines proclaim that the Vatican has condemned this sequel to the 1998 Elizabeth. The Golden Age is denounced as an attempt to undermine Christianity and the makers of the film are seen as part of an atheist plot promoting secularism. This film is not to be confused with The Golden Compass, based on the novels by Philip Pullman which the Catholic League in the United States has condemned before its December 2007 release and has already published a booklet to combat the film and Pullman’s ideas, again a promotion of atheism.

This means that Catholic reviewers and commentators will be involved in these discussions in the coming months.

A point of clarification. The condemnation of Elizabeth – The Golden Age comes from a historian, Professor Franco Cardoni who has taught in the Lateran University in Rome. He and other like commentators have pointed out that the antagonism between England and Spain in the latter part of the 16th century have been played up: the bitter aftermath and persecutions that came from the Reformation and the role of the Papacy, itself a temporal power as well as a church power, in the wars of Europe. The claim is that the film does not adequately represent history, in fact, misrepresenting it.

Of course, this is what happens in many dramatisations of past events in theatre and cinema. We accept it in Shakespearean ‘histories’. We accept it in biopics. These are dramas rather than documentaries.

Another point of clarification. ‘The Vatican’ speaks with many voices and writers in L’Osservatore? Romano and speakers on Vatican Radio, for instance, who catch the eye of the media, especially when controversial, are referred to as ‘The Vatican’ as if the opinions expressed are the Pope’s or the Roman Curia’s views.

The main problem with Elizabeth – the Golden Age, however, is that it treats an extremely sensitive period in English history in a jingoistic and overly partisan manner: the aftermath of the excommunication of Elizabeth, the aftermath of the executions of Protestants by Queen Mary as well as the persecution of Catholics by the government, the tensions with Spain, the execution of Mary Queen of Scots and the attack of the Spanish Armada and its defeat. This is all stirring stuff and has been included in various films and television programs about Elizabeth and about Mary Queen of Scots.

The problem with this film for all audiences and especially for Catholics is the tone, the simplistic English patriotism and the blackening (literally in their dress) of Catholics. Some of the dialogue sounds quite outmoded, straight out of those antagonistic days of suspicions of other churches, something that applied to all suspicions and spats between Papists and, in the schoolboy jargon of previous decades, ‘Protty dogs’. Serious advisers to Elizabeth tell her that every Catholic in the realm is a danger to her, a potential assassin. While the film rightly shows the plots of Philip II of Spain, the Babington attack on Elizabeth and some Catholic conspirators, the ‘every Catholic’ rhetoric is a bit much. Fortunately, Elizabeth herself is given some lines which moderate this extremism – although she is also made to say that if the Armada lands it will bring the Inquisition which seems to be on board. She proclaims freedom of thought, which is not quite accurate in view of her persecutions and executions.

This is a film which would not be helpful as a basis for ecumenical discussions between Anglicans and Catholics.

As a film, it is a colourful spectacle that covers 1585-1588, momentous years with the death of Mary Queen of Scots and the Armada. The title is misleading. Elizabeth’s ‘golden age’ was to follow this period, the subject of the next sequel, perhaps. Another fact is that Elizabeth was 52 at the opening of the film and, despite Cate Blanchett’s best efforts (and she is one of the reasons for seeing the film), she does not seem near 52. There is romance with Clive Owen’s debonair piratical Walter Raleigh, intrigue with Geoffrey Rush’s world-weary Walsingham, and Drake’s confrontation of the Armada is dwarfed by Raleigh’s heroics (who uses his cloak over the puddle as his ticket of introduction to the queen). But, while the film has many interesting sequences, the total lacks the forceful impact of the original.

Demonising the enemy can be a deliberate plot – or, as in this case it would seem, not a plot but lazy scripting, black versus white stuff. Philip II is played as devilish caricature, with a bandy-legged walk, fidgety in the extreme (often with his rosary beads), blessing the armada, denouncing Elizabeth with epithets of ‘bastard’ and ‘whore’ and proclaiming Catholicism in a style reminiscent of the current president of Iran when he rants against the west. He is surrounded by grim-visaged monks and perpetual religious chant – with all in black. Rhys Ifans also turns up as a fanatical Jesuit (parallel to Daniel Craig’s assassin priest in Elizabeth). No redeeming features here – except, perhaps, the dignity with which Samantha Morton’s Mary Queen of Scot shows on the gallows.

We do not usually talk about ‘angelising’ but this is what this film does for Elizabeth. While the screenplay helpfully shows the weaker sides of Elizabeth’s behaviour, her infatuation with Raleigh, her jealous outbursts against her lady in waiting, Bess Throckmorton, most of the film proposes her as angel to Philip’s devil. Beautiful, beautifully gowned, articulate, noble demeanour, she becomes more and more the competent stateswoman, eventually donning armour to support the troops against the Armada, sitting horseback offering rousing encouragement in the manner of Olivier’s Henry V and then, ethereal in nightdress, roaming the fields and standing, in a long shot, like an angelic icon on the cliffs confronting the enemy, a guardian angel of her soldiers. And that is describing it mildly.

Elizabeth – The Golden Age is something of a surprise and a letdown. The potential to make a 21st century historical epic that was able to acknowledge the passionate beliefs on both sides along with the wrongs would have made stimulating and relevant cinema. Bias, as always (think Braveheart or The Patriot) would have been inevitable but, unfortunately, this film gets carried away with itself.

EXODUS: GODS AND KINGS

SIGNIS STATEMENT

December 6, 2014

A spectacular epic, based on the book of Exodus, interpreting the character and role of Moses as a Prince of Egypt, his discovery of his Hebrew origins, his exile in Midian, his experience of God, his return to lead the people out of Egypt, clashing with Pharaoh.

It is almost 60 years since the appearance of Cecil B. De Mille’s The Ten Commandments with Charlton Heston as Moses and Yul Brynnerg as Pharaoh. De Mille had already made a version of The Ten Commandments in 1923 integrating a story of the 1920s with the dramatisation of the Exodus. In more recent years there was the animated version, Prince of Egypt (1998), a Moses film in the Italian series of television movies about old Testament characters, with Ben Kingsley as Moses. In 2007 there was another animated version, called The Ten Commandments.

This film has been directed by Ridley Scott, best known for such films as Alien, Blade Runner, Thelma and Louise and Gladiator.

This has led many of the reviewers and bloggers to make comparisons between Exodus and Gladiator, many of them not appreciating the biblical foundation for the story, sometimes exhibiting an ignorance of the story and its meaning, especially in the Judeo-Christian? tradition. It is then reviewed as something of a comparison between Moses and Marcus, the gladiator, simply seen as heroes, leaders in battle, with the religious references either passed over or to be considered somewhat odd.

The literary form of the initial chapters of the book of Exodus is that of ‘saga’. And this film offers saga-like interpretations of the Scriptures. It can be noted that there are some variations which those who appreciate the biblical story will regret. One of these variations is that Aaron does not have such an important presence as in the book. He and Moses do not approach Pharaoh. There is nothing of the episode of turning rods into serpents. Aaron, along with Joshua, are supportive of Moses but their significance tends to be underplayed. Miriam appears only in a confrontation scene when Rameses wants to know the truth about Moses, his mother, and his being adopted by Pharaoh’s sister. Miriam acknowledges the truth of the story but claims not to be Hebrew. She is not seen as a participant in the Exodus or the crossing of the Red Sea.

The first part of the film, the first third, explores the character of Moses. Readers of the book of Exodus know that he was a Prince of Egypt. The previous film versions show him as a brother to Pharaoh, a companion, daring in rivalry. But there is a difference in this version. The Pharaoh, Seti, is disappointed in Rameses, acknowledging Moses superiority as a man and as a leader. The Hittites are invading and there are lengthy and substantial battle sequences showing Moses’ skill and leadership, with Rameses as more tentative and Moses having to save him. This is put in a context of a priestess examining the entrails to discover how the battle would turn out. She explains to Pharaoh that a leader will save a leader and be a better leader. Rameses is seen as somewhat weak, not conscientious, self indulgent. This is reinforced when Moses goes, instead of Rameses, to examine the behaviour of a viceroy.

The film then introduces the character of Nun (Ben Kingsley), father of Joshua. When Moses encounters the brutality of the Egyptian slave-drivers and kills some of them, he is told the story of his origins. Shocked, exiled, he goes through a profound desert journey, ultimately going to Midian and seeking to spend his exile there, marrying Sefora, daughter of Jethro.

So far, the strength of the film is seen in the portrait of Moses, his Egyptian culture (which we may have tended to overlook because we focus on his role in the Exodus), an active man but also a man of interiority. Christian Bale is effective in the role. With the weakness of Rameses (Joel Edgerton, also effective), the confrontation between Moses and Pharoah is well-prepared.

It is in the desert where he experiences the burning bush and the voice of God ‘I Am’. There have been great number of criticisms about this presentation of the presence of God, especially in the form of a young boy with a rather British accent. Comments have been made that this is God but, if we listen attentively to the screenplay, we hear Moses appreciating that this boy is a messenger of God. The Scriptures have made the reality of angels, representing God, presenting a face of God, something which Judeo-Christian? tradition understands. Reviewers and audiences have belittled the idea of God as a boy (and with that British accent) whereas it can be accepted as in the biblical tradition, even though many might prefer a more adult appearance, The messenger/boy appears not only at the bush, but at various times in Moses’ religious experience. He is not seen by Aaron, just seen Moses himself.

Whether a ten year old boy is effective as this most significant of God’s messengers is a cinematic critical issue rather than a Scriptural one. An initial controversial point was that there were too many western/European faces rather than middle-eastern actors. Probably, but…

Where Exodus is most impressive visually is with the plagues, expert special effects. Audiences who are sceptical about these plague-sagas will be interested to note how there is some ‘realistic’ interpretation: crocodiles are rampant in the Nile, the blood of their fish and human victims turns the Nile red; frogs emerge from the rotting flesh and invade the homes; flies flourish and the humans are covered in boils; the sky darkens and fierce hail pounds the country, followed by locusts. Some credible cause and effect.

The deaths of the firstborn is indicated by a shadow progressing over the land and the victims stop breathing. Previously Rameses has been cruel in persecuting the Hebrews, locking people in their houses which are set alight.

Because Rameses has been portrayed as a weak character, his confrontation with Moses is not the clash of leadership. He wants to enslave the Hebrews, rather petulantly at times, and also going in private to pray to his gods.

When Moses returns to Egypt, he comes across an area of the Nile which is shallow – so we think that this is where the crossing will be. Moses loses the way as the people flee and comes to a beach with rolling waves. The crossing is more visually effective than De Mille’s effects available in the 1950s. Here it is to do with the tides, the flow subsiding as the people cross, the flow not only mounting as the Egyptians enter, but a vast tidal wave, tsunami style, threatens, then crashes down.

In a dramatic touch, Rameses is overwhelmed by the water and seems to drown, but he emerges alive to face Moses once again, in defeat.

We can see why the film is titled, Exodus: Gods and Kings, because that is the main focus. A short sequence with Moses chipping into stone tablets, the messenger of God present again, endorsing the value and values of the commandments contrasts with De Mille’s over-miraculous sequence where huge fire-flashes from heaven burn and carve the words onto stone.

And, as in Exodus 19, 20,24, this is just the beginning of the Exodus journey. A glimpse of Moses, growing older, still leading the people, is where this dramatization of Exodus ends.

Allowing for the above-mentioned details about the role of Aaron and Miriam, this film enables audiences to understand and appreciate Moses, his Egyptian experience, the change when he discovers his origins and how he interpreted the God-given message to challenge Pharaoh and lead his people out of a 400 year servitude. And, it combines the spectacle of the plagues and the crossing of the Red Sea with some natural explanations and divine intervention.

THE EXORCISM OF EMILY ROSE

15th September 2005

For film audiences since 1973, The Exorcist has been something of a model for what most people imagine as the rite of exorcism in the Catholic Church. The film was successful in its time, both critically and at the box-office, produced two sequels and many imitations, was successfully re-released on its twenty fifth anniversary and continues its life on television, on video and DVD. A prequel, The Exorcist: a New Beginning, was released in 2004. The Exorcist is probably a case where a film shapes consciousness rather than reflecting it.

In the era of The Da Vinci Code, there is a greater interest in Christian themes, especially connected with the Catholic Church. All kinds of hypothesis and inventions are turning up, many of which are being accepted as ‘gospel’ by a usually sceptical public. This is compounded by the impact of the abuse cases against clergy which have turned public attention towards the priesthood leading, in many countries, to disappointment on the one hand and to contempt on the other.

It is in this context that The Exorcism of Emily Rose has been released. Considered as a low-key box-office prospect, the film surprised the industry by taking $30,000,000 in its September opening weekend in the United States. This means that its prospects of being screened more widely improved considerably.

The Exorcism of Emily Rose is worth seeing.

The subject will not appeal to everyone. Demonic possession is a frightening topic. It is mystifying. Why would devils possess a human being, and what does this mean? How can people cope? What is the response of the Church? Who are exorcists and what authority do they have? What are the rituals – and are they successful? What impact does possession and exorcism have on non-believers and on a sceptical world? (It is interesting to note that a two month course on Exorcisms and Satanism was held in early 2005 at the Athenaeum Pontificium Regina Apostolorum in Rome.

This film takes all these issues into consideration. Admittedly, this is ‘only a movie’. It is not a theological or sociological or medical document. However, in the space of two hours storytelling, it draws its audiences into the reality of possession, moves them emotionally, but also challenges them to think about the issues.

Director and co-writer, Scott Derickson, is not a Catholic. He has a Presbyterian background. He has done his research and Catholics will be comfortable with his perception of the Church. As with so many stories, he has added some of his own speculations which are passed off as the real thing. This is the case especially with his device of having clocks stop at 3.00am and claiming it to be the devil’s hour for entering the world because three refers to the Trinity and to the time that Jesus died. (It would be a pity if that were the only thing that audiences remembered.) He also has a parish catechetical program where Emily Rose could study some Biblical Greek and Hebrew and even a smattering of Aramaic. (That is wishful thinking!)

In comparison with The Exorcist, The Exorcism of Emily Rose is a model of how to make more with less. It should not be considered as a horror film. Rather, it is a religious and psychological drama that has traditional elements of horror or, as The Hollywood Reporter describes it, a ‘supernatural thriller’. In the possession scenes, there is no swearing, no bile, no vomit, no head swivelling as in 1973. (It has a US rating of PG 13.) There are strange voices and utterances (as were also reported in the Gospel stories of demonic possession), catatonic episodes and limb contortions. The eeriness is felt through loud and piercing cries and the atmospheric sounds and sound engineering.

What are the themes and treatment that make the film of interest to Catholic audiences?

• The film is basically respectful towards the Church, even when criticisms are voiced. It is sympathetic to this Catholic story at a time when many are hostile towards the Church or feel they have been offended by it.

• The film shows a sincere priest, even though many may disagree with the stances he takes towards the possessed girl, the treatment by doctors and the medication she was prescribed. He is accused of negligent homicide because of his agreement with her that she should come off medication and that religious ritual was the way to deal with her condition. As portrayed by Tom Wilkinson, Fr Richard Moore is a decent and spiritual man caught up with something previously beyond his experience and trying to do his best for the family from his parish and getting the authority of the diocese to go ahead with an exorcism (including using technical resources like taping the ritual so that it can be authenticated). The screenplay shows the important role of the parish priest as confidant who can be trusted and the nature of confidentiality.

• The film suggests a respect for simple faith, the trusting unsophisticated faith of ordinary people that more educated critics look down on as superstitious or simplistic. This is the case with Emily Rose’s parents and their beliefs and trust in the priest. It is glib to disregard anything that is not understood as ‘medieval superstition’.

• During the latter part of the 20th century, many have struggled with the questions of evil in the world and how this relates to traditional teachings and beliefs about the devil and evil spirits. The film highlights the reality of evil in our world, the power of evil as well as of the divine.

The answer to some of these questions that the screenplay offers harks back to previous centuries, especially to those women who experienced apparitions whether it be Anne Catherine Emmerich, Bernadette, the children of Fatima or more recent visionaries. Emily Rose is presented as one of these. She sees Mary and receives a message. In 2004, a number of Catholics found the spirituality in Mel Gibson’s The Passion of the Christ too focused on Jesus’ sufferings and the implication of cruelty on the part of the Father and not enough on resurrection hope. A similar critique might be made here. Emily Rose is given the option of being freed from possession by exorcism or continuing to be possessed until her death in order to witness to the world that there is a supernatural world, that evil exists and invades the world but that the presence of God is stronger. This spirituality of victimhood has a strong tradition. In more recent centuries, saints like Therese of Lisieux offered her ‘little way’ of community contemplative life for the labours of overseas missionaries. Saints like Gemma Galgani or St John Vianney had experiences similar to those of Emily Rose in combating the devil. The efficacy and relevance of this kind of spirituality will be continually argued. The film does not follow the path of some recent visionaries (and of some whose messages have been discredited) in being pessimistic about the world and uttering apocalyptic condemnations. The message here is that redemption is possible and that good will overcome evil.

The core of the film is the court case where Fr Moore is being tried for negligent homicide. The prosecution develops the argument that Emily Rose was schizophrenic or paranoid or experiencing some kind of psychotic episode. Expert opinion is heard. The nature of the medication prescribed and its hoped-for effects are discussed. This is the approach that most people take (including Church officials who would take the part of what has become known as the Devil’s Advocate). The prosecutor, played by a steely Campbell Scott, has been chosen because he is a Methodist and a churchgoer. However, he stresses that, in the courts, facts are what is important and he relies on scientific, medical fact.

The defence lawyer, Laura Linney at her best, tries to counter these arguments. She calls a witness, an expert in the experience of evil in more sophisticated and less sophisticated religions around the world and their belief in possession. Then she decides that the better defence is to accept that the religious treatment, the exorcism, is a valid way of dealing with Emily Rose’s condition and that Fr Moore made the correct decision to go through with the ritual. She is a declared agnostic. Fr Moore warns her that she will be subject to demonic attacks. Strange things happen to her – or that is how she perceives them. What happens to her in terms of the defence is that she realises that facts are not absolutes, that facts are always interpreted.

The screenplay is well-written all the way through. It is in the two summing up speeches that the differences between fact and interpretation are made very clear. Scientific evidence, plain and well-founded as it may be, is still working in the realm of hypothesis. Therefore, it must concede that there can be other possibilities.

One reviewer commenting after the screening was offended by the film because he alleged that it advocated bringing religious hypotheses into American jurisprudence. This highlights the limitations of the confrontative nature of court proceedings, especially the confining of witness testimony to issues of ‘yes’ and ‘no’ with no allowance for modifications or ‘buts’. The Exorcism of Emily Rose indicates that facts must be presented but the facts are open to several possibilities of interpretation.

The film raises the question as to the nature of holiness and who are saints. In the secularised Western world, people tend to be very sceptical about the possibility of saints. It is an unspoken assumption that saints should be ‘normal’. When the saint is less than perfect, especially if influenced by a psychological condition, their holiness is dismissed – except in literature where Dostoievski’s The Idiot and characters who resemble him can be extolled. Fr Moore claims that Emily Rose is a saint. He tells her story in court, challenging the audience to consider whether they think she is a saint and that this is an example of sanctity. This is clearly a challenge to the theological stances of the audience and the nature of their own spirituality and piety.

There is no claim that The Exorcism of Emily Rose is a cinema masterpiece. Rather, it is a well-written and well-crafted film that deals with religious and Church questions in a secular world which, at the moment, has become intrigued by spirituality and ecclesiastical institutions.

FINDING SAINT FRANCIS

UK, 75 minutes, Colour.
Written and directed by Paul Alexander.

Finding St Francis is something that all of us like to do even when we think we know him well – there is always more to discover.

The film was produced by a British group, lay associates of the Franciscans, devoted to promoting St Francis and his spirituality. While another film version of St Francis’s life would always be welcome, there have been quite a number, notably Michael Curtiz’s Francis of Assisi from the 1960s, Franco Zeffirelli’s Brother, Sister Moon from the 1970s and several Francis films by Liliana Cavani from the 1960s to the present. Roberto Rossellini directed a film of St Francis and the legendary stories about him, called the Little Flowers of St Francis, 1951.

This film takes a different tack. It is set in a Franciscan house in the English countryside. A middle-aged man undergoing something of a personal search, arrives at the friary and encounters a group of the lay associates and friars. They are listening to a talk on St Francis by the director, Paul Alexander. He sees something in the man, discusses his situation with him and offers him the role of Francis in the forthcoming film. He accepts and, as he undertakes the role, he sees parallels with his own life.

The budget was limited but several actors and amateurs are used in the film to present the equivalent of Francis’s life but in a contemporary setting and with contemporary costumes. For the pictorial background of Assisi and the surrounding countryside as well as visits to Rome, colour sketches are used effectively. And there is the musical score.

The screenplay traces the details of Francis’s life, many of which are familiar, but which it is important and interesting to hear again: the background and the wealth of his merchant father, his French mother, his early and rather carefree life, his military service… This includes giving away his armour and horse to a needy soldier, but his father supplying substitutes.

Important for the development and for the spirituality of Francis, there are scenes where he encounters a poor man and has such a personal experience in the meeting that he falls in love with Lady Poverty. This is more than reinforced in his encounter with the leper, his appearance and stench, and the compulsion to kiss him. There is also the confrontation with his father when he strips off his clothes and leaves home for ever.

In the life of the Franciscans, there are scenes of the rebuilding of San Damiano, of other churches in Assisi, of living at the Portiuncula, and the coming of various friend s and associates who want to share his life and his poverty and charity. And the same is true of the young woman, Clare, who embraces the spirit of Francis.

Francis was something of a free spirit, becoming a deacon but never a priest, sometimes preaching effectively, sometimes reticent. At one stage, keen to meet the Muslims, he ventures to meet the leaders. But, it is in his meeting with Pope Innocent III that there is drama, the Pope wary of him, agreeing to consider the church’s approbation of the Franciscan movement, his dream of Francis supporting the collapsing church, and the approval given.

The film also highlights how Francis was not really an institutional man, having difficulties with a friar who wanted to have his own prayer book, castigating him that this was against poverty – but also falling foul of his successor, Brother Leo, who wanted structure and order in the movement.

Not every scene is as successful as the other – and it is interesting as well is distracting to see the same actor turning up in a variety of roles, from Francis’s stern father to a benign friar. And, for the performances, it is not as if many of the people are so much acting but rather, in the manner of a staged play or pageant, they are role-playing, the audience at the talk sometimes visible, and the intercutting of scenes and the talk.

In these days of Pope Francis, there has been more movement towards finding St Francis, discovering and appreciating his spirituality – and this is the kind of documentary-drama that opens up the story of Francis and would be well worth seeing and listening to in anticipation of nurse preparation for watching one of the fuller feature film versions.

THE GOLDEN COMPASS

November 25th 2007

Peter Malone

In the ordinary course of events, film releases and film reviews, there would be little call for a statement on The Golden Compass. It is simply the most recent in a spate of fantasy films that have entertained wide audiences since 2001. The Lord of the Rings along with the first Harry Potter led the way that year, with Lord of the Rings sequels in 2002 and 2003. The Harry Potter films continue with the sixth to be released in 2008. Then came Narnia in 2005 (with Prince Caspian scheduled for 2008), the very pleasing The Bridge to Terabithia, followed by lesser fantasies, Eragon and The Dark is Rising. Now we have The Golden Compass. The principal films have noted, even celebrated authors: J.R.R. Tolkein, J.K.Rowling, C.S. Lewis and, now, Philip Pullman.

Actually, it is Philip Pullman who has led to the current controversies and many letters, website and email scaremongering about the film before its release.

But, first a comment on the film itself. This is a statement on the film and the film itself, not the novel ‘Northern Lights’ on which the film is based, or other Pullman novels - which I have not read. Some observations on Philip Pullman and his ideas will follow.

The Golden Compass is well-made, with a lot of intelligent dialogue, including the word ‘metaphysics’ a couple of times. Much of the film requires attention as well as some developed vocabulary. It looks very good: sets and design, effects for fantasy, and Nicole Kidman wearing a large array of costumes and gowns. The cast is strong with Dakota Blue Richards as the feisty (non-cute) heroine, Lyra, who, along with her daemon (more about that word later), Pan, who is the external version, the physical manifestation of her ‘soul’ with whom she can speak and argue, is ready to take on all comers – and does. The talented young actor, Freddie Highmore, is the voice of Pan.

The Golden Compass itself is a powerful mechanism that tells the truth and reveals what others wish to hide.

Apart from Nicole Kidman, who seems to be relishing the opportunity to be glamorous, charming and ruthlessly villainous, there is Daniel Craig as Lord Asriel, Sam Elliott, exactly as he is in the many Westerns he has appeared in, as Mr Scoresby and a long list of distinguished British stage and screen actors including Derek Jacobi, Christopher Lee, Claire Higgins, Tom Courteney, Jim Carter and the voices of Ian Mc Kellen (particularly strong and heroic) and Ian Mc Shane (villainous) as the rival bear kings. The film certainly has class. Interestingly (and perhaps surprisingly), writer-adapter and director is an American, Chris Weitz. After assisting his brother, Paul, with the directing of American Pie and the Chris Rock comedy, Down to Earth, they went to England to direct the film version of Nick Hornby’s About a Boy. Obviously, things English have appealed to him.

The plot offers, one might say, some variations on most of the fantasy films listed above. Afficionados will enjoy pointing out the comparisons. Yes, there is battle between good and evil – and in remote locations like the Rings Trilogy. Yes, there is a young central character, this time a girl, a kind of working class Hermione who lives in a college and has to do Harry Potter-like actions. The king bear, a literally towering figure, is reminiscent of Aslan in Narnia. There is a happy continuity in the imagination of all these films.

With a girl as central and with a number of battle sequences, the film should appeal to its boys and girls target audience – and the adults will probably enjoy it too (but may have to ask the children some clarifications of plot and characters).

There are some aspects of the film that may raise a religious eyebrow. The opening of the film speaks of parallel worlds, a feature of all of the best film fantasies. In our world, our souls are within us. In the parallel world, the soul is outside us, in the form of a symbolic animal called a ‘daemon’ (not a devil but a ‘spirit’ according to the origins of the word).

The other word is the ‘Magisterium’, the name of the all-powerful ruling body which is authoritarian and intent on eradicating free will so that all people, especially the children they abduct and experiment on, will lose their daemon and be completely conformist and happy. Science fiction has treated this plot in the several versions of The Invasion of the Body Snatchers. The Magisterium heads are embodied by Derek Jacobi and Christopher Lee who spurn tolerance and freedom and speak of heresy. Magisterium is, in fact, the word used for the authoritative teaching of the Catholic church, so that is clearly a critical element – though, as will be quoted later, Pullman says he is not anti-Catholic but anti-rigid and authoritarian religion.

The Golden Compass, normally, would be classified as PG or PG 13, suitable for most with a warning that there are some frightening scenes and battles for the younger audience.



However, the Catholic League For Religious and Civil Rights in the United States opened a campaign against the film three months before its release and published and widely distributed a booklet critical of the attitudes of the author and, by extension, his novels. It is called : ‘The Golden Compass: Agenda Unmasked’. The head of the League, William Donohue, has placed critical material on the League’s website and has been the guest on several American chat shows. His video except on his site was aired often in television news broadcasts at the time of the film’s premiere in countries like the UK. Reporting of the film on ordinary radio news bulletins generally referred to the Catholic League and its campaign. The League and Mr Donohue received enormous publicity.

A number of people in different parts of the world, scenting a controversy or a crusade, or simply out of displeasure at the alleged accusations, are involved in letter-writing, especially emails warning of the dangers of the film, and some personal denunciations.

As with all controversies and campaigns, attack without the benefit of viewing a film undermines the credibility of a crusade whether it is justified or not.

As with the arguments about magic and witchcraft in the Harry Potter novels (though there is little discussion about the magic and witchcraft in Tolkein and Lewis), some parents were alarmed at the upsetting messages they received. Two weeks before the release of The Golden Compass, this letter was emailed. Some paragraphs are included but edited for the anonymity of the writer:

I was sickened to read all the praise for the book which is worse than the movie.  I now feel I must let as many people, especially parents, know that the book and movie are disgusting and evil. I feel sick by this horrendous author because I have been chosen by our Dear Lord to bring his wonderful teachings to the little ones and I’m honoured to do it. I’m a Catechist preparing little ones for their First Holy Communion.

…I pray that after everyone reads what I have written in our Church news letter, I will get the same support from those in my parish. It was suggested that I write bringing  this horror to the attention of as many as I could and to ask for help in anyway to put a stop to this evil being read and seen by our children.

   I apologise for so much anger but the world is bad enough for our children without the likes of this sick non believer and I’m writing to as many people including my Bishop… and Our Holy Father.

The Catholic League website indicates that the film has been toned down so that ‘Catholics, and Protestants are not enraged’. As indicated, the film does not really raise any direct theistic or atheistic issues or even questions.

The main problem is that Philip Pullman is an ‘avowed’ atheist (parallel with Tolkein and Lewis being ‘avowed’ Christians). We live in a pluralist world where Christians can express their good faith beliefs but cannot expect that everyone will agree with them. Those who hold different opinions have a freedom to express them, even an atheist who puts forward views in good faith, so to speak. This can lead beyond fixed stances polemic to dialogue and attempts for a meeting of minds on key issues.

Statements that Pullman has made in interviews and on television on his atheism, his criticism of authoritarian Christianity and his (alleged) desire that children find their way to atheism have offered the impetus for the attacks in print and in a video discussion by William Donohue and the League. His acknowledgement that the film may not be offensive or enraging is followed by concern that children who have not read the books will want to read them after seeing the film and will be put in danger of atheism. (Checking with some respectable Catholics who have read the books, I found that they were surprised to hear this allegation.) Of course, there are others who have asserted and will assert that the novels have this atheistic agenda.

From the League website:

‘It is important that all Christians, especially those with children or grandchildren, read this booklet. Anyone who does will be armed with all the ammo they need to convince friends and family members that there is nothing innocent about Pullman's agenda. Though the movie promises to be fairly non-controversial, it may very well act as an inducement to buy Pullman's trilogy, His Dark Materials. And remember, his twin goals are to promote atheism and denigrate Christianity. To kids.’
It is seen as a ‘stealth campaign’.

By way of contrast, the president of the American National Secular Society said that in toning down the film, especially concerning the Magisterium, ‘they are taking the heart out of it, losting the point of it, castrating it’. (Reference: Christianity Today website)

The director, Chris Weitz, says on this matter:

‘In the books the Magisterium is a version of the Catholic church gone wildly astray from its roots. If that's what you want in the film, you'll be disappointed. We have expanded the range of meanings of what the Magisterium represents. Philip Pullman is against any kind of organised dogma whether it is church hierarchy or, say, a Soviet hierarchy.’

To gauge the tone of the campaign, which is couched in aggressive righteous language with some mockery, readers can find a great deal of material on the League website. Typical of the material is this News Release from November 2nd.

On this morning’s “Today” show, English atheist Philip Pullman was questioned by Al Roker about his trilogy, His Dark Materials, and the movie which opens December 7 that is based on his first book, The Golden Compass. Roker mentioned that the Catholic League is charging that Pullman’s work is selling “atheism for kids.” Here is Pullman’s response:

‘Well, you know I always mistrust people who tell us how we should understand something. They know better than we do what the book means or what this means and how we should read it and whether we should read it or not. I don’t think that’s democratic. I prefer to trust the reader. I prefer to trust what I call the democracy of reading. When everybody has the right to form their own opinion and read what they like and come to their own conclusion about it. So I trust the reader.’

Catholic League president Bill Donohue replied as follows:

“The last thing Pullman trusts is the people. That is why he tries to sneak his atheism in back-door to kids. If he had any courage, he’d defend his work, but instead he continues to do what he does best—practice deceit. This is the same man who boldly exclaimed a few years ago, ‘I’m trying to undermine the basis of Christian belief.’ Now he says that it is undemocratic of us to issue a consumer’s alert (we’ve published a booklet on his work) that exposes his hatred of all things Catholic.

‘We at the Catholic League never had to run from our work. How pitiful it is to see a grown man slip kids his poisonous pill and then pretend he trusts the reader. We are so happy to have ripped the mask off his face. And the movie doesn’t even open for another five weeks! This is going to be a good ride. Hope Pullman is up to it.’

This kind of polemic can overstep the mark in being judgmental about people. References were made to Nicole Kidman being a ‘so-called’ Catholic. A blogger adds: Philip Pullman, like any atheist, likes to twist his words around to make it look like he is the "victim" when Catholics speek (sic) out against their rhetorical lies. As far as Nicole Kidmann is concerned, she needs to realize that being brought up Catholic does not mean you are Catholic. I don't believe she is being honest with this film. After all, she is part of Hollywood and we all know how they judge the Catholic church.

The questions arise:
- What is the value of this kind of polemical crusade against books and film and against the author?
- Does anything positive or concrete emerge?
- What is the nature of literary and cinema fantasy – and do any audiences accept as ‘real’?
- Allowing that Pullman is critical of religion and professes atheism, is the faith of the ordinary Catholic, the ordinary reader and cinemagoer, so slight that it can be rocked or undermined by The Golden Compass?
- Do books and films like Harry Potter or The Golden Compass actually provide opportunities for parents and teachers to communicate with their children on a different level from teaching and doctrine and raise key questions about the nature of God, the nature of faith, the need for redemption?
- Is Pullman’s creating of The Magisterium a critique (as he claims) of authoritarian religion and his ‘death of God’ rather a critique that should mean the death of false images of God (like the stern allegedly Old Testament God of vengeance) which we could all agree with?
- Is Pullman advocating some kind of ‘authoritative’ religion which is marked by integrity, responsibility and adult interaction and compassion?

Putting Christian energy into this kind of discussion would be far more fruitful than alarmist warnings.

A journalist who had received the complaints looked at Pullman’s own website and commented:

The books undoubtedly are critical of religion, but  Pullman himself has long denied that they are anti-Catholic.In a 2004 post still featured on his website Philip Pullman.com, he wrote that his main quarrel is with the ‘literalist, fundamentalist nature of absolute power’ and ‘those who pervert and misuse religion, or any other kind of doctrine with a holy book and a priesthood and an apparatus of power that wields unchallengeable authority, in order to dominate and suppress human freedoms’.

Pullman’s ideas deserve some intelligent response rather than derision or dismissal. He does make serious points about the role of institutional religion which need both a Church examination of conscience as well as thoughtful response or rebuttal. In a long interview on Pullman’s website, the following question and answer are to this point.

His Dark Materials seems to be against organised religion. Do you believe in God?
'I don't know whether there's a God or not. Nobody does, no matter what they say. I think it's perfectly possible to explain how the universe came about without bringing God into it, but I don't know everything, and there may well be a God somewhere, hiding away.

Actually, if he is keeping out of sight, it's because he's ashamed of his followers and all the cruelty and ignorance they're responsible for promoting in his name. If I were him, I'd want nothing to do with them.'

This SIGNIS statement concerns the film and the attacks on the film before its release. Discussion with Catholic educators and literary commentators and those of other denominations is another matter and would consider further the religious and/or atheistic implications of the novels.

GRACE a DIEU

February 9, 2019.


France, 2019, 137 minutes, Colour.
Melville Poupaud, Denis Menochet, Swann Arlaud, Eric Caravaca, Francois Marthouret, Bernard Verley, Marine Erhel, Josiane Balasko, Helene Vincent.
Directed by François Ozon.

The first thing to say about François Ozon’s contribution to the cinema focusing on clerical sexual abuse is that it is quite a significant contribution. It is based on real-life characters, an abusive priest, Father Bernard Preynat, the Cardinal- Archbishop of Lyon, Barberin, lay assistants, and a number of men who raised issues from their past, their experiences of abuse, leading to criminal investigations into the priest. An epilogue indicates that no date for the trial has been set, although there has been work on the investigation for several years, and that the Cardinal and one of his lay assistants have been on trial for not passing on information about the abuse – this film premiering during the 2019 Berlinale with a verdict to be announced on March 7, before the film will go into worldwide release.

Catholic consciousness about clerical sexual abuse has undergone quite some transformation in the last three decades, in some cultures much more developed than in others. The word used by many is that the Catholic response is evolving. And this film will contribute to the evolution. There are early references to Pope Francis and his stances about abuse, investigations by Cardinal O’ Malley for the Vatican, protocols changing concerning trials, priests being laicised, penalties, civil cases and imprisonment. This film, with its focus on serious misdeeds, insufficient response from hierarchy and authorities, is a helpful opportunity for Catholics (and members of other denominations who have experienced abuse as well as other institutions) to acknowledge the realities of the past, express regrets, move towards greater openness.

While Ozon focuses on one diocese and one priest, he highlights the events presented as something local and solitary, in comparison with many of the cases that have occurred in France. The screenplay scarcely acknowledges that there have been cases right throughout the world and for so long. We could be reminded that many other countries have been pursuing the issues of abuse, attempts to rectify situations honestly, acknowledge guilt since the 1990s.

Cases were raised in Canada in the 1980s and 1990s. The first protocols from the official church in Australia were published in 1996. In fact, Ireland has had a national investigation into abuse, Australia had a governmental Royal Commission into institutional abuse, with a thorough examination of the Catholic Church, from 2013 to 2018, with extensive airing by the media. Although the Oscar-winning film Spotlight, 2015, almost seems to indicate that the Americans discovered abuse and dealt with it in the media, their focus was on the years up to 2002. So, for outsiders to France, to see this case coming up in the middle of the second decade of the 21st century seems comparatively late – and it would have been interesting had the men in Lyon had contact with organisations in other countries.

This can be confirmed by the cinema history of films about clerical sexual abuse, the American film, Judgement, 1990, about cases in Louisiana, The Boys of St Vincent, 1992, quite forthright about Canadian cases, and a number of British and Irish films since 2000, and the miniseries from Australia, The Devil’s Playground, 2014. In fact, the film Our Fathers, 2005, was quite explicit in basing the screenplay on actual characters, survivors, lawyers, clergy, and quite specifically naming the Cardinal-Archbishop? of Boston, Cardinal Bernard Law.

A note about the screenplay’s use of the word, ‘victim’. Another development over recent years, especially in some English-speaking countries, is the substitution of the word ‘survivor’ for ‘victim’. Victim highlights the perpetrator as well as the abused, while survivor highlights the life of the abused person (acknowledging that so many abused have committed suicide), a more positive perspective on going ahead with life.

As regards the film itself, it is very much a verbal film, voice-overs describing experiences, the texts of letters and emails, words of interviews, reports to the police, family discussions. This means that the director is able to be less detailed in visual representations of abuse situations, relying on the flashbacks, on the age and innocence of the child, the child being selected by the abuser, his taking the child away from the group. In this way, the director is able to avoid any prurient response to the story.

The film is also an effective in its principal focus being on the particular survivors, four of them, one, devoutly Catholic, wife and five children, discovering the offending priest is still in ministry, wanting to act, communicating with the archdiocese, going to interviews, even a meeting with the offending priest. But, with ecclesiastical delays, his growing more concerned and, approaching the police, setting a criminal investigation in process. Another man, now atheist, wife and children, has been moved into action because his mother wrote to the then Cardinal and other clergy in the early 1990s and has kept a file which the police use. This man has another friend who remembers abuse in the past, at the scout camp sponsored by the priest. The fourth man, high IQ but not able to fit into society so well, also joins the group which establishes a website, and an association as more and more survivors emerge.

Again, it would be interesting to compare the networks of survivors in other countries and how they operate, cooperate, and have been significant in giving witness into investigations, especially government investigations as in Ireland and Australia, for instance. This film gives the (perhaps unintended) impression that this website and network was a first in dealing with abusive clergy.

Ozon takes a fair perspective on the events and the characters. There is certainly criticism of the Cardinal, his hesitations, some contradictions in his testimony in press conferences. Worthy of note, is the Cardinal’s faux pas in responding to issues concerning the ending of statutes of limitations, God be thanked (Grace de Dieu), the title of the film. The Cardinal is challenged, acknowledges his loose use of words, apologises (and mistakes like this, unthought-out comments by the hierarchy, have plagued investigations and stirred media upset, flowing over for the public).

In fact, there has been great rage in many of the survivors, the years-long hurt and wounding, the disastrous effect on life, relationships, ability to cope and lead a fruitful life. However, this film has its protagonists angry but more objective, less raging but earnest for justice to be seen and justice to be done, possibilities for reparation, hesitations concerning forgiveness of the offender.

It is interesting that in this film, while there are some lawyers, they play subsidiary roles, different from lawyers’ work in more litigious cultures, with a focus on financial compensation, and a criticism of the church in using lawyers, legal action before expressions of compassion.

One of the directions for another film would be to take up the presentation of Father Preynat (for English-speaking audiences it is ominous that his surname begins with ’prey’, a man who was a prolific predator), his admitting his guilt and responsibility, his apologies to the survivors, but his acknowledgement of his psychological condition which needed much more attention, his attraction towards children, even seen in his emotional response to meeting the survivors, wanting their support and forgiveness, speaking affectionately (until reprimanded by the lawyer), his willingness to pray with the survivors, his affectionate smiles as he left the meetings. We need more probing of the characters, motivations, mental and emotional conditions of the abusers.

This is not a review of the film. That would go into the quality of the screenplay and the direction, the fine performances of the central characters, the relying on strong dialogue to communicate perspectives.

But, for audiences from other cultures, it is a dramatisation of historical and contemporary events, issues for survivors, challenges to churches, which must continue.

AN INTERVIEW WITH GOD



October 20th 2018



US, 2018, 97 minutes, Colour.
David Strathairn, Brenton Thwaites, Yael Globglas, Hill Harper, Charlbi Dean Kriek, Bobby di Cicco.
Directed by Perry Lang.


The tone of the title indicates that this will be an earnest film. And it is.

Clearly, the themes will be religious. But there are many philosophical issues, especially about evil and free will. The screenplay touches on some biblical themes; the film has been produced by a Christian company, emphasising that the path to God is very much focused on the Judeo-tradition and its culmination in the person of Jesus Christ.

Audiences who have an aversion to explicitly religious films will find their version reinforced. Audiences who are sympathetic to explicitly religious films will find a lot to interest them, to provoke them, although they might find the tone the time is rather didactic, at times preachy.

This said, there is a lot of questioning (on the part of the interviewer, of course, but also God being able to reverse the interview, making demands on the interviewer), which demands answers from the audience for their own integrity, authenticity of belief or non-belief.

A large part of the film consists of the interview, although there are storylines which come to the surface. And, which get the attention of God.

It should be said that God is played by the veteran actor, David Strathairn, a man of serious demeanour, intelligent and articulate, a credible incarnation for God in the contemporary world. The interviewer is played by the Australian actor, Brenton Thwaites, eager to score an interview with God, an exclusive for his publication, ready to front up and asked the questions, but frequently thrown off balance when God returns the questions.

Thwaites plays journalist, Paul, who has been on an interview mission in Afghanistan and is seen initially returning on the plane with coffins of military draped in the American flag. He has experienced some of the trauma on the frontline, making him sympathetic to post-traumatic stress disorder, reaching out to help some of the soldiers who have returned home.

He is married, but immediately there is tension in the apartment. Interesting for the audience, the screenplay has been written in such a way that would lead the audience to lay the blame for potential breakup with Paul rather than his wife. It does not quite work out that way. The marriage situation surfaces throughout the film, Paul trying to contact his wife, she busy and not answering her phone, an intervention by his sister-in-law – and some challenging interventions by God.

But, the core of the screenplay consists of the three interview sessions. Paul, earnest, riding his bike around New York City, meets God first of all in a park, their sitting on park benches. Later, they will meet on the stage in an empty theatre. And, finally, in an office in a high-rise building.

The questions raised are those which are expected, which the audience themselves might raise were they to have an interview with God. Actually, God is more skilled at asking questions of Paul than Paul is of God. And, despite his concern about Paul and his life, God is able to keep his cool.

One of the features of the film is the range of clever lines, arresting religious quips, thoughtful aphorisms. Some audiences may find the interview sessions heavy and demanding. They might work better as an audiobook where attention is on the words and expressions rather than focusing on the characters and their reactions during the interviews. To that extent, many audiences might find there is too much talk for them to deal with.

Some examples: faith is not a goal, it’s a process; concerning the question why bad things happen to good people, Paul notes that God could be considered a “Cosmic Killjoy”; life is not an audition for the afterlife; most people only notice bad things when they happen to them; some people go through life feeling that they are judged every day by God.

There is an interesting discussion about the Ten Commandments, God noting that in the Gospels, Jesus quotes only six, those focusing on our dealings with our neighbours, not reiterating the commandments about God (and God adds there aren’t many polytheists around these days). Ultimately, the challenge to Paul is not so much the theological nor the philosophical but to look at his own life, to look at the command of love, to see whether humans can overcome the bad things, planting of crops for food, psychological assistance for war veterans, marriages being saved. A final theme is forgiveness.

Ultimately, the film could make its audience ask about the questions they would prepare for an interview with God – and, ask where God actually does intervene in their lives; and through whom?

JIRGA

September 1, 2018.

The question: why a SIGNIS STATEMENT on a film about the war in Afghanistan, a brief film about military activity, a soldier returning to the country?

A quick answer: this is a film which can serve as a paradigm for an understanding of the process of the Sacrament of Reconciliation.

The film comes from a religious perspective, the father of the film’s director and cinematographer, Benjamin Gilmour, was a minister. This humane and religious perspective was also a feature of the first film by this director, Son of a Lion, a story of post-9/11 Pakistan.

It is also an Australian film, the main character a soldier returning to Afghanistan on a personal journey.

We are told immediately that Jirga means a meeting of council elders.

The opening invites its audience into military action, a raid on a village, dangers and shooting, all filmed in green night-light. At the end of the episode, one of the men is filmed staring at what has happened, the death.

The director knows the landscapes of Afghanistan as well as the city of Kabul and audiences may well feel as they look at the cityscapes from above, move through the streets and markets into the small hotel, into the shops, that they have been there.

However, this is the story of a personal journey of the soldier from the night raid, Mike Wheeler (played by Sam Smith). It is not clear at first why he has returned from Australia to Afghanistan. He has a large amount of money. He asks a taxi driver to take him to the combat area, the driver refusing many times, resisting the money, but eventually taking Mike part of the way, sharing the journey, some music, a meal, his Muslim prayer and rituals.

As Mike Wheeler continues his journey on foot through the desert, we realise that he is on a pilgrimage, to go back to the village, to confess, appear before the Jirga, the Council of Elders, for them to decide his fate.

For a Catholic watching the film, the parallel with the Sacrament of Penance becomes ever more clear. In this sense, the film does serve as a paradigm for the Sacrament. There is the offence, the perpetrator of the killing deciding that he has “sinned”. He has examined his conscience quite profoundly which leads him back to the Jirga meeting which is his confessional. He is sorry for what he has done. He has repented. But this is not enough. He needs to confess aloud, to acknowledge his sin. He certainly has a firm purpose of amendment. He wants to atone – although some of the locals note that the money he has brought is something of a curse and we see some of it blowing in the wind. He wants to make reparation and to perform a penance.

He experiences both condemnation and forgiveness – and, in the ritual styles of the Middle East, an animal is sacrificed, shedding its blood, symbol of the suffering and reconciliation.

The film is worth seeing as a film, brief, some beauty, some dread. A non-religious audience watching it would appreciate the humane themes while the Christian audience, especially those with a sacramental tradition, would appreciate how the pattern of penance and reconciliation is played out before their eyes.

The film can be recommended for discussion, for religious education.

SIGNIS STATEMENT

February 10th 2014



KREUZWEG/ STATIONS OF THE CROSS


This is a film of particular Catholic interest.


The title, of course, refers to the traditional devotion to the passion of Jesus, the Way of the Cross, 14 steps of contemplation from Jesus being condemned to death by Pontius Pilate to his burial. (In more recent times, Pope John Paul II added a further contemplation of the resurrection.)

This German film, screened at the 2014 Berlinale, winning the main jury prize for screenplay and the ecumenical award in the main Competition.

The film opens with a priest, young, clerically dressed, teaching five children about the sacrament of Confirmation which they are about to receive. His words are plain and clear. He then says to them that the church has had 2000 years of tradition – and then asserts that along came the Second Vatican Council which ruined everything. He is critical of such things as Communion in the hand, female altar servers, music, a worldly spirituality.

We are being taken into the life of a group which resembles the Society of St Pius X, followers of Archbishop Marcel Lefebvre, here called the Society of St Paul. What the film has to offer is a portrait, according to the writer-directors, of a traditionalist Catholic Church, often extreme in its attitudes, fostering an austere spirituality, an isolation from the mainstream which it fears and condemns.

At the centre of the film is the young girl, Maria, part of the Confirmation class. She is urged by the priest to greater holiness, her hoping that she could be a saint. But this requires a great deal of asceticism on her part, not protecting herself against the cold, not eating, much praying – with the motivation that her little brother, who has not spoken, will be able to speak because of her mortification. Maria becomes the character who goes on her own stations of the cross. This is emphasised by the priest who points out that the children are now to become warriors of Christ, warriors for Christ, battling themselves and evil in the world. To be fair, he does point out that the children’s battle is also for good in the world.

In this way Maria becomes a Christ-figure, following the pattern of Jesus in his suffering. While there is some talk of heaven, it really does not loom large in the horizons of the Society of St Paul. This is made very clear in a powerful confession sequence, where she talks frankly about herself from the perspective of a young girl, and allows herself to be questioned about all kinds of issues, including sexual temptation.

One of the features of depiction of Christ-figures is the selection of characteristics of the Jesus of the Gospels for understanding the parallel character. The depiction is a challenge to appreciate what criteria are important to the viewer in establishing a Christ-figure, what is included, what is not included.


Maria is an intelligent girl and makes friends with a boy at her school who invites her to sing in the choir at his own church. She is tempted, but his choir includes some rock music and her mother is horrified. In fact, the film’s focus on Maria’s mother shows us a woman who is extremely rigid in her perspectives, fearful of temptations in her daughter’s life, very critical of her when they walk in the mountains, go shopping, buy a dress for her Confirmation, humiliating her at the table after Maria pretends that her friend is a girl and then confesses and admits this to the family.

This means that the audience is very sympathetic to Maria while not understanding the devotion in her motivations. It also means that the audience is quite unsympathetic to the mother, even at the end when she is so haughtily hostile to the doctors and nurses, but decides that her little girl is a saint and should be beatified. In these days of awareness of abuse of children, psychologically as well as sexual, it appears that the training of Maria, the encouraging of her penances, assuming that she understands these matters as an adult, is a warning against spiritual abuse.

Mainstream Catholics and mainstream Christians will be dismayed at this particular portrait of Catholicism, its joylessness, its awareness of God as punishing more than loving, its focus on the sufferings of Jesus without looking to the resurrection, its rigidity of belief, intellectual understanding of faith without a personal pastoral dimension. Life is governed by puritanical attitudes in the Jansenist traidition in the Catholic church.


There is one friendly character in the film, the au pair from France, Bernadette, who brings to the household something of a more humane and sympathetic perspective on life, a support for Maria, offering some alternative way of looking at life, Maria relying on her more than the mother that she strictly obeys. It is Bernadette who speaks positively of Heaven and love for the Father, Jesus and the Holy Spirit.

One caution. Catholic viewers may be taken aback at a scene in the hospital where Maria expresses a desire for Communion. The priest brings the host but Maria cannot swallow it and it has detrimental effects on her breathing – and the nurse, matter-of-factly, simply takes the host out of her mouth and puts it on a towel. The scene is to highlight the unreality of the members of the sect in terms of illness and treatment.

There is a Spanish film of 2010, Camino, which has some similarities to Kreuzweg, the story of a little girl who is ill, a member of Opus Dei as is her family, who are unrealistic in her medical treatment, even brutal in their devout approach to religion, wanting her to be a saint.

Members of the society of St Pius X may find the film too critical, but mainstream viewers will find that this particular community, its beliefs and its spiritual practices are brought to life.

LAKE OF FIRE

November 22nd 2007

It is not every two and a half hour film, especially a documentary with black and white photography and many talking heads interviews, which can keep audience attention. Despite its length and the fact that it could have been further edited, Lake of Fire does.

On leaving the cinema, I found a video camera in my face, ‘What did you think of the film?’. Taken aback, I found I had said, ‘Good. Emotional. Mentally stimulating’. That still seems a just thumbnail review.

Basically, the film is about abortion and the complex moral issues that the changes in legislation in the last four decades and its repercussions have meant. There is plenty of material here, both intellectual and emotional, to provide solid bases for further discussion and dialogue.

British director Tony Kaye comes from the world of commercials and has the skills to communicate a great deal in thirty seconds or a minute. He also has the talent to tell stories within that space of time. Here he has a great number of minutes, so he packs his film with opinions, visual challenges and stories. It can be noted that he shot his film in the United States (and he was the photographer for his film). All the talking heads (except for Australia’s Peter Singer) are American as are the stories. Kaye began filming in 1993 and most of the footage comes from this period up to 1997 when he began work on the feature film, American History X, a powerfully alarming drama about modern American neo-Nazis with Edward Norton and Edward Furlong. He brings this great interest in fanatic fringe groups to Lake of Fire.

The changes in the legislation concerning abortion and the consequences for American sexual behaviour after the decision in the case Wade vs Roe have led to protests and demonstrations by both Pro- Life and Pro- Choice lobbies. These are the cinematically dramatic element in the film which explores the behaviour, motivation and determination of these groups. Since the Christian Pro- Life groups have been the most active and vociferous, it means that they get the most attention. There is a danger that even the most even-tempered audience will be so appalled by some of their strident behaviour that they will feel that the vociferous and often single-minded protests of the Pro- Choice lobby, who are not slack in confrontations and shouting of abuse, are models of sobriety compared with their opponents.

In this way the film is particularly American and becomes quite disturbing for a non-American audience. If we have read or seen television reports about the murders of doctors who carried out abortions in Florida, Georgia and Massachusetts and the almost rabid support of their followers in the name of God and Jesus, we might wonder who these people are. Kaye offers a great deal of footage, including interviews, as well as photos of the killings that can help explain but can also defy understanding let alone sympathy.

There is a scene of a police psychiatric interview with John Salvi in 1995 in Florida, a young man who seems clearly mad and who mouthes claims that what he is doing comes from what the Pope teaches, something he is really unable to explain rationally. Paul Hill, who had picketed clinics for months on end and who finished by killing three people, is interviewed during his protests, is seen during his trial and we hear his testimony that, as he is executed (in 2003), he is dying as a martyr for the protection of children. What is truly alarming is his language of execution (in God’s name). One of his followers is interviewed and finishes up by declaring that abortionists, sodomites (which in fact he does not understand) and children who say ‘goddammit’ during a sports match should be executed, the children for blasphemy.

A number of the speakers are religious ministers of Pentecostal churches and pray at their protests in charismatic style. A number of the ministers are rhetoric masters, able to stir crowds and control them – including by fierce radio ministry. A number of the ministers are also part of supremacist groups who advocate arms for all, including training little children with guns. The recurring thought for the ordinary Christian, embarrassed by this morally aberrant behaviour in support of moral principles, is how damning and wrong this is as the face of Christianity – as well as the important question about it all, ‘What would Jesus really think?’.

The amount of material Kaye has collected, the number of interviews with people he has conducted make Lake of Fire a strong documentary on fundamentalist Christians. And the title of his film comes from these Christians who readily relegate ‘sinners’ to an eternal, lava-like sea with people in it burning for eternity. Hell is a Lake of Fire.

This means that Lake of Fire is not just about abortion, not just about the fanatical and violent behaviour of fundamentalist Christians, it is about the nature of scripture and about the nature of God. Again, the discussions and the fanatical rants provide a great deal of varied material on a God who is by and large vengeful against sinners and those who do no follow his ‘law’ (an important factor). While Jesus is the personal saviour, he is not spoken about or prayed to in a personal, experiential way. He is the leader, the master.

Of great significance are the interviews with Norma Mc Corvey who used the name Jane Roe for the Roe vs Wade case. She speaks of her abortion, of the case, the consequences. She also relates how she was contacted by a Pro- Life campaigner, Flip Benham (a born again alcoholic and addict with a frightening grin), and invited to his centre where, after a time of welcome, she changed her attitude towards abortion and has become a campaigner and missioner against abortion.

And the word of God? Preacher after preacher, disciple after disciple, refers to the word of God as absolute, the absolute of absolutes, more than church and definitely more than conscience. But, the bible is read using random quotations without any reference to their context or any work to understand one saying in relation to another. Most of us realise that this is how literal reading of the bible becomes a cause leading to a crusade where so much of religious experience is channelled into apocalyptic fear and aggression.

Throughout this long film, there are a number of speakers. Of interest to Catholic viewers are sections with a woman who is Pro- Choice and a homily from Cardinal Roger Mahoney of Los Angeles. While there are many women, it is surprising in some ways how many men there are, many more than the women, who are eager to be heard on this issue. There are people in the street, politicians, doctors, religious personalities, writers, philosophers, lawyers. They have differing points of view but thoughtful audiences will appreciate the quieter moments when some of the speakers are calm and present rational reflections. These will differ from person to person in the audience. One of the best of the speakers is Noam Chomsky whose judicious considerations provide much food for thought even when one could take issue with his arguments. So does lawyer Alan Dershowitz as do a number of writers.

Somebody asked if the film was balanced, giving time without bias to each side of the debate. Is it skewed because of the presentation of the loud right without indicating some machinations of the left? Balance is something not achievable in this kind of film, equal time for all opinions. Rather, it gives a great deal of time to a range of opinions, some of them contradictory. But, while the protest scenes will probably confirm Pro- Life protestors in the audience in their stances, the discussion sections offer means for respectful listening to those with whom one disagrees which leads to fruitful debate as well as dialogue.
A challenge that the Pro- Choice demonstrators throw back to the Pro- Life protestors is how do they treat and care for the thousands of unwanted children today who find themselves in institutions and lacking the nurture and care of families. This is something that more temperate Christian groups do around the world rather than spend energy on the crusade.

But, films tell stories and Kaye has wisely left a story until the end. We follow a young women, 28 year old Stacy, who has decided to have an abortion as she goes into the clinic, the physical tests, the interview before the procedure with some questioning as to why she was choosing an abortion. We also go into surgery and see some detail of the abortion procedure itself, especially the emptying of the siphon tube with the parts of the foetus. In fact, earlier in the film, this has been shown in slightly longer sequences – Kaye has not shirked the physical realities of abortion.

Kaye makes this story, which comes to a moving end as the young woman reflects on what the experience has meant to her – and it is very affecting no matter what our moral stances on the issue, for or against. The film ends just rightly.

This storytelling is important otherwise this serious moral issue becomes just a matter of principle. But principles do not exist in the abstract. They are embodied in our behaviour and Lake of Fire offers us a film of principles which are not disembodied.

SIGNIS STATEMENT

December 1, 2015

THE LETTERS



The Letters in the title of this film of those written by Mother Teresa of Calcutta to her spiritual director, the Jesuit Father Celeste van Ekem, over a period of almost 50 years. Mother Teresa died in 1997.

This does not necessarily sound an attractive title for audiences to go to a feature film. It sounds more like a documentary. However, the letters are always in the background of Mother Teresa’s story, sometimes coming to the forefront, so that the action of the film concentrates on her life and her work.

It is significant that the letters concern Mother Teresa’s dark nights of soul and senses, not only difficulties of belief in God but a dread sense of being abandoned by God. This does is addressed right at the beginning of the film where the promoter of Mother Teresa’s cause goes to visit Father Celeste van Ekem in retirement in England to receive and read the letters and evaluate them in the light of Mother Teresa being declared Blessed. There also scenes from the Vatican where meetings are held to discuss the miracles attributed to Mother Teresa – with a glimpse of this miracle at the beginning of the film – and their place in the approval of her beatification. (There are also a number of Vatican scenes from the 1940s, petitions for Mother Teresa to leave Loretto, to establish her congregation – exceedingly formal and stiff, not in the vein of Pope Francis!)

The Letters will be a film of great Catholic interest, Mother Teresa being well-known to so many Christians, Catholics and others like. Because she was such a public figure over such a long time, there will be an audience right around the world for this film. Since the release and the financial success of Mel Gibson’s The Passion of the Christ in 2004, commentators have noted that there is a greater appetite for specifically and explicitly religious films. Again, because of Mother Teresa being a public figure, most admiring her, some critics writing against her, the film offers an opportunity to look at Mother Teresa’s life, her work, her motivations, her achievement and assess them in the context of her committed faith life and her ministry and service.

The film was written and directed by American William Riead, radio journalist, television cameraman, director of “The Making of…) Documentaries in the 1980s and 90s. In terms of some reputable acting power, the promoter for the cause is played by Rutger Hauer and the spiritual director himself by the venerable actor, Max von Sydow. Max von Sydow brings considerable gravitas to his presence and performance.

There have been two television films on Mother Teresa: Mother Teresa: in the Name of God’s Poor, 1997, with Geraldine Chaplin and, in 2003, Mother Teresa with Olivia Hussey. This time the casting is British actress, distinguished for her stage and screen work, Juliet Stevenson.

One of the great advantages of this film is that so much of it was filmed on location in India and with an Indian cast.

While the letters on Mother Teresa’s religious experience pervade the film, it actually tells the story of her work from 1946 to 1952, her discerning whether to leave her community life and her teaching at school in Calcutta and to work amongst the poor. They were long delays in receiving a reply from the Vatican, her moving out of the convent, initial resistance to her presence in work by many of the Indians fearing that she was proselytising amongst the Hindus, her early companions, the support of the Archbishop of Calcutta, the advice of her spiritual director, the final approval – and glimpses of her shrewdness in dealing with authorities, persuading them to give her material and financial support, and the interest of the media in her story.

With Juliet Stevenson’s performance, a broken English accent, the slight stoop that Mother Teresa had, the film offers an opportunity for the audience to reflect on the whole process that led to the establishment of the work of the Missionaries of Charity. The screenplay, which does show the young Loretto sister making her vows in Dublin in the early 1930s as well as her classes in the College, gives audiences enough time for the audience to ponder her motivation, the poverty in the streets at the time of India’s Independence, the practical difficulties of her work, the hostilities, even demonstrations against her when she is given a disused Hindu temple as a hostel for men and women dying in the streets.

The audience also realises that Mother Teresa was not an immediate, overnight success in her new work. She had to move carefully and prudently, adopted local clothing (not a habit, although it has become one) so that she could identify as ordinary amongst people. The permissions were given gradually, not always with the support of the Loretta superiors, and there were discussions, with Mother Teresa and her certainty of her mind and intent, about the establishment of her religious congregation, its rules and canonical status.

Because some American media took some interest in her story in the late 1940s, audiences also realise that she became a media topic almost immediately which continued for the next 40 years or so, leading to greater acknowledgement around the world, including being awarded the Nobel Piece Prize in 1979 – a sequence, with her speech, with which the film ends. No need to show the details of her life and work in the 1950s, 1960s, 1970s, 1980s, most of the 1990s, because it was a continuation of the initial work, service and spirituality. Not everybody agreed with Mother Teresa’s methods, many considering them to limited – but no one can take it away from her that she was actually there in the streets, assisting.

While the screenplay is certainly geared towards a faith audience, it is also written in such a way that people of non-faith who admired Mother Teresa can be interested in and involved in her story.

Credits:

THE LETTERS

US, 2015, 114 minutes, Colour.
Juliet Stevenson, Max von Sydow, Rutger Hauer and a large Indian cast.
Written and directed by William Riead.

LOURDES

14th September 2009

For almost 150 years, Lourdes has been an important centre for pilgrimage and prayer. The story of Bernadette Soubirous, the apparitions of Mary, the digging of the spring, the abundance of water as well as the many cures and healings are well-known because of the experiences of the faithful, the questions of sceptics like Emile Zola as well as Franz Werfel's book, The Song of Bernadette, and the 1943 film version with Jennifer Jones. Bernadette also featured in two French films, Bernadette (1988) and The Passion of Bernadette (1989), directed by Jean Delannoy, with Sydney Penny in the title role.

The new film, Lourdes, is a project written and directed by Austrian Jessica Hausner who has a Catholic background. However, she does not approach the subject from an explicit Catholic point of view. Rather, she wanted to put on the screen the Lourdes pilgrimage experience and to raise the issues of the nature of God, the possibility of miracles and the 'fairness' of God in granting healing to some and not to others.

The film-makers discussed the project with the bishop of Tarbes, where Lourdes is situated, and received collaboration during the making from the shrine authorities. It is certainly a film Catholics can be comfortable with, the presentation of devotion and faith, the range of perspectives of the pilgrims themselves, the experience of healings. The questions the film asks are those that believers and non-believers must ask.

The film shows a group of French pilgrims, with their chaplain and assistants from the Order of Malta, following the rituals of the visit to Lourdes: the grotto, the Eucharistic blessing, confession, processions, bathing in the water... The central character, Christine, has severe MS and is paralysed. She has come with some devotion but, principally, for a trip. The elderly lady she shares a room with is prayerful and solicitous for her. During the pilgrimage, Christine feels a growing strength and seems to be healed. There are various responses from the group, joy and suspicion, and the film is open-ended concerning Christine's future.

CRITICAL RESPONSE AND AWARDS

Lourdes screened in competition at the Venice Film Festival, September 2009. Critical response, even from reviewers avowedly hostile or wary of Catholicism, tended to be very positive, a surprise in itself. Lourdes won awards from SIGNIS, the World Catholic Association for Communication (the jury making the point that the award was not simply because of the Catholic topic but also because of the quality of the film and its probing of faith and miracles). The Catholic Ente dello Spettacolo also gave the film its Navicella award.

However, Lourdes also won the award of the Federation of International Film Critics, FIPRESCI, an indication of the merits of the film since this award is made for excellence in film-making as well as for exploration of themes. Yet, the film won no award from the main jury at the Festival. Writer Stephanie Bunbury, The Age, Melbourne, 14th September, suggests that the French were wary of the possibility of miracles and to make an award to Lourdes would be 'unethical'. (She refers to this type of reasoning as 'bone-headed'!)

More puzzling is the fact that Lourdes was given the Brian award. This is an annual collateral Festival prize named after the character, Brian, from Monty Python's Life of Brian. It is made by the association of rationalists and atheists. Did they interpret the film as, minimally, a sceptical look at the phenomenon of Lourdes or, more strongly, as an attack on the 'irrationality' of faith and miracles?

WHAT THE AUDIENCE SEES

For Catholics, Jessica Hausner has presented the Lourdes experience in generally accurate and extensive detail. Cast and crew sometimes mingled with actual pilgrims. (The prelate for the Eucharistic blessing is Cardinal Roger Mahoney of Los Angeles.) Those who have visited Lourdes will have memories stirred. The sequence where Christine speaks of her angers and frustrations to the priest in confession rings true as does the scene in the smaller room where pilgrims ask for personal blessings.

Non- Catholics have been puzzled by as well as in some admiration for what they see. The gathering of the sick seems to some just like one of those revivalist tent gatherings, full of enthusiasm, which have sometimes been exposed as frauds. Confession is often problematic for those who have never participated in it. The touching of the grotto wall, the statues and candles may seem quaintly devout. Outside the precincts of the shrine is the kitsch-commercial paraphernalia of images, candles and souvenirs.

The film's attention to detail will be appreciated by Catholics. It may not lead anyone in the audience, except the devout, to think that Lourdes is a place that they should visit. The sceptics in the audience will generally remain sceptical though they may appreciate better that authorities in Lourdes have procedures and doctors to examine those who think that they have been cured. The psychological benefit of religiously going to such a shrine will be appreciated – believers realising that this can be a personal healing experience in itself.

The screenplay shows a range of characters in the pilgrim group who illustrate these different perspectives: a mother who brings her disabled daughter every year to Lourdes and experiences a momentary improvement only, an old man who is lonely, several severely disabled patients, two gossiping and critical ladies... It is the same with the men and women volunteers with the Order of Malta: the men who are happy-go-lucky and glad to date the women assistants, the severely religious woman in charge who likes discipline and offers her own sufferings for others, the young volunteer who has not developed much compassion and eventually wishes she had gone on her skiing holiday as usual. Christine befriends the officer in charge who is attentive to her but fails her when he thinks she may not be cured.

A great strength of the film is the performance of Sylvie Testud as Christine. As an ill woman, confined to a wheelchair and completely dependent on others, she is both sweet and kind, extraordinarily patient despite her confessing to being angry. She is a woman of faith, joining in the hymns, prayers, visits to the grotto. However, she also wants to socialise, experience the pilgrimage as an outing. Her experience of healing is at first tentative, not immediately very spiritual, an entering into the ordinary, even banal, world of day-by-day. Is this a miracle? Not? Does she deserve this experience? Will it last - and does this matter? Does her experience challenge her deeply? Spiritually?

The priest with the group is down-to-earth (playing cards in the evenings and showing a sense of rhythm in dancing at the social at the end of the stay) but the lines he is given, inside and outside the confessional, tend to be the abstract sayings about God and freedom along with rather facilely quoting texts from the scriptures about completing the sufferings of Christ in our own bodies.

This may be the director's experience of priests but it seems quite a limited experience – a lot more, deeper sayings, could be put into the mouth of the priest or other characters which could offer more intellectually and spiritually satisfying leads and stimulations to understanding what faith, miracles and divine intervention are about. (The Canadian film, La Neuvaine (2005) by Bernard Ermond, set in the pilgrimage shrine of St Anne of Beaupre and raising questions about faith, simple and simplistic faith, rationalism and agnosticism, is a fine example of deeper reflection and how it can be incorporated into the screenplay of a film.)

ISSUES RAISED: GOD, FAITH, MIRACLES.

God

Almost all of the characters believe in God. The characters do not question God's existence. That questioning may be for many in the audience. What the characters do is express different aspects of belief.

One of the difficulties in discussions about God is God's seeming arbitrariness in dealing with suffering people. If God is God, why does God not intervene directly in the world and in people's lives (while we fail to remember how much most of us resent parents and authorities when they do intervene and take away our freedom and freedoms)? The other question is that of suffering – and one needs to reflect on Elie Wiesel's response when asked where was God in the holocaust. His answer suggests that God was in the ovens and with the suffering concentration camp victims.

Jessica Hausner has remarked that one effect of making Lourdes was to make her question more strongly the 'fairness' of God in dealing with different people, favouring some and not others.

Faith

There is an unfortunate presupposition amongst believers and non-believers alike that discussion of faith limits itself to the intellectual aspect of faith: believing what God says, intellectual assent to the truth. This keeps the discussion in the realm of the mind and focuses on ideas, reason and logic.
However, faith is something lived, lived in ordinary day-to-day life as well as in crises. It is what St Paul calls 'faith from the heart'. Faith is a spirituality in action, sometimes heroic, sometimes faint. This is dramatised in the characters in the film but, in the context of the Lourdes experience and people being prone to focus on faith and 'truth' in discussion, drawing attention to this more explicitly without being didactic would have enhanced the film and given more nuanced attention to the characters. The traces can be seen in Cecile, the Order of Malta leader, and her rather ascetical lived faith, and the old lady, pious and kind, who looks after Christine.

Miracles

In the early centuries of the church, miracles were claimed at the drop of a crutch, many of the reported miracles being enhanced storytelling. In the century of 'Enlightenment', the 18th century, Benedict XIV tightened criteria for the acceptance of a miracle. The language was used of an occurrence (generally a cure) being outside the laws of nature. More recent theological reflection highlights another criterion: that the cure take place as a response to and in the context of prayer. Maybe an occurrence is a psychosomatic experience but, in the context of faith and prayer, it can be described as 'miraculous', even though the 'big' miracles are those which seem to transcend the laws of nature.

Bringing this line of thought to what happens in the film, Lourdes, raises interesting issues of whose prayers are answered, whether Christine has experienced something miraculous ('big' or 'psychosomatic') and what is the nature of her spiritual experience – of the healing and its consequences for her life, of the challenge to her intellectual faith and to her faith from the heart, of her witnessing God's healing love and power?

There are some suggestions in the film – and Jessica Hausner does not want to make a propaganda film – but visitors to Lourdes have testified that they have experienced so much more of this faith from the heart which transcends previous experience.

Clearly, there can be a religious interpretation of the film as well as a secular interpretation (from SIGNIS award criteria to those for the Rationalist and Atheist Brian award). Believers will appreciate that this film is 'out there' in the world marketplace, a stimulus to discussion – and, maybe, an invitation to something more.



SIGNIS STATEMENT (Abbreviated)

14th September 2009

LOURDES


The new film, Lourdes, is a project written and directed by Austrian Jessica Hausner who has a Catholic background. However, she does not approach the subject from an explicit Catholic point of view. Rather, she wanted to put on the screen the Lourdes pilgrimage experience and to raise the issues of the nature of God, the possibility of miracles and the 'fairness' of God in granting healing to some and not to others.

The film-makers discussed the project with the bishop of Tarbes, where Lourdes is situated, and received collaboration during the making from the shrine authorities. It is certainly a film Catholics can be comfortable with, the presentation of devotion and faith, the range of perspectives of the pilgrims themselves, the experience of healings. The questions the film asks are those that believers and non-believers must ask.

The film shows a group of French pilgrims, with their chaplain and assistants from the Order of Malta, following the rituals of the visit to Lourdes: the grotto, the Eucharistic blessing, confession, processions, bathing in the water... The central character, Christine, has severe MS and is paralysed. She has come with some devotion but, principally, for a trip. The elderly lady she shares a room with is prayerful and solicitous for her. During the pilgrimage, Christine feels a growing strength and seems to be healed. There are various responses from the group, joy and suspicion, and the film is open-ended concerning Christine's future.

WHAT THE AUDIENCE SEES

Non- Catholics have been puzzled and some admiration for what they see. The gathering of the sick seems to some just like one of those revivalist tent gatherings, full of enthusiasm, which have sometimes been exposed as frauds. Confession is often problematic for those who have never participated in it. The touching of the grotto wall, the statues and candles may seem quaintly devout. Outside the precincts of the shrine is the kitsch-commercial paraphernalia of images, candles and souvenirs.

The film's attention to detail will be appreciated by Catholics. It may not lead anyone in the audience, except the devout, to think that Lourdes is a place that they should visit. The sceptics in the audience will generally remain sceptical though they may appreciate better that authorities in Lourdes have procedures and doctors to examine those who think that they have been cured. The psychological benefit of religiously going to such a shrine will be appreciated – believers realising that this can be a personal healing experience in itself.

The priest with the group is down-to-earth (playing cards in the evenings and showing a sense of rhythm in dancing at the social at the end of the stay) but the lines he is given, inside and outside the confessional, tend to be the abstract sayings about God and freedom along with rather facilely quoting texts from the scriptures about completing the sufferings of Christ in our own bodies.

A great strength of the film is the performance of Sylvie Testud as Christine. As an ill woman, confined to a wheelchair and completely dependent on others, she is both sweet and kind, extraordinarily patient despite her confessing to being angry. She is a woman of faith, joining in the hymns, prayers, visits to the grotto. However, she also wants to socialise, experience the pilgrimage as an outing. Her experience of healing is at first tentative, not immediately very spiritual, an entering into the ordinary, even banal, world of day-by-day. Is this a miracle? Not? Does she deserve this experience? Will it last - and does this matter? Does her experience challenge her deeply? Spiritually?


APPENDIX:

ISSUES RAISED: GOD, FAITH, MIRACLES.

God

Almost all of the characters believe in God. The characters do not question God's existence. That questioning may be for many in the audience. What the characters do is express different aspects of belief.

One of the difficulties in discussions about God is God's seeming arbitrariness in dealing with suffering people. If God is God, why does God not intervene directly in the world and in people's lives (while we fail to remember how much most of us resent parents and authorities when they do intervene and take away our freedom and freedoms)? The other question is that of suffering – and one needs to reflect on Elie Wiesel's response when asked where was God in the holocaust. His answer suggests that God was in the ovens and with the suffering concentration camp victims.

Jessica Hausner has remarked that one effect of making Lourdes was to make her question more strongly the 'fairness' of God in dealing with different people, favouring some and not others.

Faith

There is an unfortunate presupposition amongst believers and non-believers alike that discussion of faith limits itself to the intellectual aspect of faith: believing what God says, intellectual assent to the truth. This keeps the discussion in the realm of the mind and focuses on ideas, reason and logic.

However, faith is something lived, lived in ordinary day-to-day life as well as in crises. It is what St Paul calls 'faith from the heart'. Faith is a spirituality in action, sometimes heroic, sometimes faint. This is dramatised in the characters in the film but, in the context of the Lourdes experience and people being prone to focus on faith and 'truth' in discussion, drawing attention to this more explicitly without being didactic would have enhanced the film and given more nuanced attention to the characters. The traces can be seen in Cecile, the Order of Malta leader, and her rather ascetical lived faith, and the old lady, pious and kind, who looks after Christine.

Miracles

In the early centuries of the church, miracles were claimed at the drop of a crutch, many of the reported miracles being enhanced storytelling. In the century of 'Enlightenment', the 18th century, Benedict XIV tightened criteria for the acceptance of a miracle. The language was used of an occurrence (generally a cure) being outside the laws of nature. More recent theological reflection highlights another criterion: that the cure take place as a response to and in the context of prayer. Maybe an occurrence is a psychosomatic experience but, in the context of faith and prayer, it can be described as 'miraculous', even though the 'big' miracles are those which seem to transcend the laws of nature.

Bringing this line of thought to what happens in the film, Lourdes, raises interesting issues of whose prayers are answered, whether Christine has experienced something miraculous ('big' or 'psychosomatic') and what is the nature of her spiritual experience – of the healing and its consequences for her life, of the challenge to her intellectual faith and to her faith from the heart, of her witnessing God's healing love and power?

There are some suggestions in the film – and Jessica Hausner does not want to make a propaganda film – but visitors to Lourdes have testified that they have experienced so much more of this faith from the heart which transcends previous experience.

THE MAGDALENE SISTERS

August 1st 2003

Scots actor director, Peter Mullan, has made an expertly- crafted but grim film about the Catholic Church in Ireland in the mid-60s. He has researched the laundries which were run by sisters who took in young women who had had children out of wedlock or who were considered wayward in sexual behaviour. Often they were called Magdalenes.

In recent years, in the English-speaking world especially, stories of physical and sexual abuse in Church parishes and institutions have surfaced with many priests and brothers facing civil courts and imprisonment. The Magdalene Sisters includes a priest character, the chaplain, whose behaviour reflects this kind of sexual abuse. Fewer sisters have been in court although many stories have been reported of physical cruelty rather than sexual abuse. Much of this cruelty took place during the 1950s and 1960s. The nun characters in this film were trained in the 1950s or earlier. The action takes place during the 1960s.

The film will certainly cause sadness in audiences who have been disturbed by the experiences of the 1990s, the revelations, the court cases and sentences. It will cause sadness for those who have positive memories of education by sisters and for those who want to see pleasant images of the Church and Church personnel. However, this story, which makes more impact perhaps because it is being seen rather than merely being read, is no less true than many of the recent stories that have been reported even in the Catholic press.

Is the film an attack on the Catholic Church? Peter Mullan says no. That was not his intention. It is a critique of a religious culture. Obviously it is an attack on and a critique of much of the harshness of the Church which has often been seen as characteristic of a stern Irish Catholicism. It is a critique of the abuse of power and authority in the name of the Church. (An apposite Gospel reference would be Matthew 20:24-28 with Jesus words on power, authority and service.) Mullan's comment is that Ireland was a theocracy. He has pointed out that in a theocracy, those who accepted this situation were prone to dominating behaviour in God's name. This means that the sisters themselves were victims of this religious-civil collaboration. While priests (as in the film) would make judgments about the young women who were to be sent to the laundries to keep them disciplined and under control, it was also the families who sent their daughters. The latter situation is seen in the film with the young woman who is raped by a cousin. She is either not believed or is blamed and is the innocent scapegoat for the wrong done by the man. At his Venice Festival press conference, Peter Mullan discussed other theocracies and the example was given of the Taliban - which led to some absurdly exaggerated press reports that he had likened the nuns in the film to Taliban leaders.

Although the film does not touch on it - except perhaps in the scene where a benefactor brings the first film to the convent (The Bells of St Mary's) and in the blessing of the new washing machines - this was the period of the Second Vatican Council and the call to rethink religious life and ministry. At what stage this reform was introduced in Ireland, those who remember can tell us, but it might have given some greater nuances to the characters and the behaviour in the film to make it even more compelling drama. One British press reviewer remarked that the film was a 'one-note' film with no variation on its grim storytelling.

However, this is the film that Mullan has made. The performances of the girls are first-rate. The nuns are less clearly drawn, mainly being seen in supervision sequences or in the refectory where their meal was more lavish than that of in the refectory where their meal was more lavish than that of the girls. It is Geraldine Mc Ewan's performance as the superior that demands attention. She has inherited a tradition of the Superior being strong, that her word is final and that she expresses God's will. She is shown to be cruel at times. Much as we might regret it, we can all probably remember religious who acted in this way. We might want to hurry to add that not all religious were like this. That is right. But, this film is a drama rather than a documentary. Most audiences will appreciate, as they would with a film criticising the police or politicians, that the majority of members of the profession did not act in this way.

The Magdalene Sisters can be seen as part of an honest examination of conscience by the Church and a request for repentance, an expression of sorrow and an apology, something which Pope John Paul II has exemplified and encouraged in recent years.

BAD EDUCATION/ LA MALA EDUCACION

May 13th 2004

Pedro Almodovar is Spain's leading director, with a strong international reputation and two Oscars (for All About My Mother and Talk to Her). He was initially provocative with his films of the 1980s, especially in his attitude towards the Catholic Church and in his treatment of sexuality, especially of homosexual themes and characters.

In recent years, he has perfected his style, his ability to create intelligent melodramas, channel his flamboyant still into thoughtful and moving explorations of the human experience, often bizarre experiences. All About My Mother won the Ecumenical award at Cannes in 1999.

Bad Education has been in planning stages for many years. In 2002, when Almodovar announced that he would move into production, there were immediate claims that the film would be anti-clerical. It would be a film about his own experiences of Catholic education in Spanish schools of the 1960s. This was re-iterated in articles and interviews and was the first question at the press conference in Cannes where Bad Education was the film chosen for Opening Night.

However, Almodovar himself has been disclaiming the anti-clerical charge. He has said that had he made the film twenty years earlier, it would have been quite anti-clerical. He says now that he has mellowed and that, although he does not have what he calls 'the luxury' of believing in God, he values much of what he experienced in the Church (especially in liturgies, celebrations and art) during his childhood. He says he asked God to give him faith when he was a boy but God did not give it to him. He also said recently that the priests at school said that watching films was a sin and that he had to choose sin. These themes are incorporated into Bad Education.

The other aspect of the film that hit the headlines before its release was that of sexual abuse. While not experiencing it himself at school, he was aware of it. English-speaking countries have been aware of this widespread problem since the 1990s, culminating in the US crisis in 2002. The issue is beginning to emerge more forthrightly in continental European countries. While the issue is important, Almodovar treats it quite differently from the way it was portrayed, for example, in the recent Song for a Raggy Boy, where the audience briefly saw the truly abusive side of unscrupulous behaviour and the pain of the victim. Almodovar spends more time showing the emotional behaviour of the abusing priest, his obsession and emotional immaturity, but puts more blame on how the priest handles the situation and jealously exploits his authority and power within the school. This is portrayed in the visualizing of a story written later by the victim. We then see the priest in real life, having left the priesthood and married, but still a sexual predator.

Almodovar's treatment of abuse is more complex and thoughtful than what might have been expected. His judgments are mellowed at times with some compassion for the emotions of the perpetrator. His sympathies are with the victims, although he also raises questions about adolescent attitudes towards sexuality, especially in the context of Catholic upbringing, Church teaching and a sense of sin.

Almodovar is a very clever writer and is able to construct quite intricate plots. For its full impact, the film needs to be seen with as little knowledge about its structure as possible. Audiences will leave with a great deal to think about concerning all the central characters, about what is real, about what is memory, about sexual orientation, about sexual intimacy, about childhood experiences and their effect on adult development or the impeding of development, about moral choices and about God and religion.

To put all this into a proper perspective, it is necessary to acknowledge what Almodovar has said in many interviews. That, perhaps, he should not have called his film Bad Education because the past in the school sequences is only one of about half a dozen plot segments, that he sees the school sequences as a launching place for his interest in his characters as adults and how they interact.

Bad Education offers an opportunity to see something of abuse issues dramatized. For many people, for Catholics, the stories are often sensational headlines, condemnatory articles, court cases where justice must be done and where people in the Church have to accept responsibility. They do not have a sense of the stories, of the human dimension of what victims have experienced, what abusers have done. In this sense Almodovar's film contributes to the Church's continuing examination of conscience, especially in some countries which have not yet faced the crises experienced in the United States and other places.

SIGNIS STATEMENT

March 13th 2018



MARY MAGDALENE

UK/Australia, 2018, 120 minutes, Colour.
Rooney Mara, Joaquin Phoenix, Chiwitel Ejiofor, Tahar Rahim, Ariane Lebed, Denis Menochet, Tcheky Karyo, Ryan Corr.
Directed by Garth Davis.

Clearly, a significant topic for a SIGNIS Statement. Mary Magdalene is one of the most significant new Testament characters. And, as a character, she has appeared in all the gospel films.

This Statement will have two aspects:
a basic comment and opinion on the merit of the film (with which, it is expected, other viewers of the film may disagree with);
an extended commentary on the significant themes and how they are presented.

An opinion on the merit of the film. From the point of view of a cinematic treatment of the Gospels, of Mary Magdalene, of Jesus himself and the apostles, the film is very well done. It can be recommended for those interested in an interpretation of the gospel story. It could also be used quite profitably for catechesis and as a background for biblical studies.

The film was directed by Australian, Garth Davis, co-director with Jane Campion of the series, Top of the Lake and, making quite an impact with his drama of the Indian orphan adopted by Tasmanian parents and seeking his origins, Lion. It is significant that the screenplay for Mary Magdalene has two women as writers, British writers, Helen Edmundson and Philippa Goslett. Which means that the writing has a female sensibility and a male director interpreting it.

The performances are quite strong. Rooney Mara is a quiet, different Mary Magdalene. Joaquin Phoenix is Jesus, looking somewhat older than usual, heavier than usual, more a Jesus from St Matthew’s Gospel rather than from St Luke’s, not a charismatic leader or affable, but rather stronger, stronger-minded, intense in his religious experience and expression. Chiwitel Ejiofor is Peter, older, black, expecting the kingdom on earth, as is Judas, Tamar Rahim, a pleasant man, an idealist, ultimately a disillusioned idealist about the nature of the kingdom and what Jesus should do and have done.

However, the title and focus of the film is Mary herself. One of the expectations of audiences would be the correlation of this dramatisation with the gospel texts. Mary is actually mentioned rarely. She is one of the women who follow Jesus according to Luke 8:2, where it is said that she had seven demons cast out of her (with the seven demons referred to in Mark 16:9). She is at the foot of the cross with Mary, the mother of Jesus (Mt 27:56; Mk 15:40; Jn 19:47; Mk 16:1; Lk 24:8; and the longer narrative in Jn 20: 1-18). She is with the disciples after the death of Jesus and is the first to go to the tomb, finding the stone rolled away, encountering Jesus in the garden, going back to the upper room and announcing the resurrection (Mt 27:61)

As the film makes clear at the end, Mary has often been identified as a prostitute, something which emerged with the influence of Pope Gregory the Great in 591. The film then adds that the Vatican, in 2016, named her “Apostle of the Apostles”. In various film versions, she is also identified with the woman taken in adultery (John 8), with the woman penitent (Luke 7: 36-50), with Mary the sister of Martha. Here, the focus is on Mary according to the brief gospel references noted above and creating imaginative aspects of the story consistent with these texts – as is said at the end, stories are told according to “the essence” of the Gospels.

Commentary.

• The screenplay uses a metaphor for, something of ‘the shape of water’, opening with Mary floating underwater and then surfacing, this image repeated in Mary’s anguish at Jesus’ suffering, and repeated again at the end of the film – with Mary explaining that when she was young, she would float underwater, holding her breath – finally surfacing and breathing again.

• Mary is seen, with the family, at Magdala on the shores of the Sea of Galilee, tending the fishers’ nets. Later, as she follows Jesus, she will walk away from the nets, leaving them behind.

• Almost immediately, Mary is called to assist at a difficult birth. Mary is quiet, contemplative, reassuring of the anxious and nervous mother, embracing her, quietly murmuring, calming her down, looking at her, enabling the mother to give birth to the child.

• Almost immediately, the small community gathers at the synagogue for prayer, the patriarch of the family ritually reciting the Psalms. The traditional Jewish context, with scripture and prayer, is a significant feature of Mary’s life.

• However, Mary is often disturbed. She goes out into the sheepfold at night, called back, her family worried about her, seeing that she has an evil spirit in her. There is initial talk of Jesus as a healer who has been casting out evil spirits. However, the family, father and her brother, decide to go through a ritual immersion to try to cast out the evil spirit but fail. They are particularly concerned because Mary is betrothed, unwillingly, and they see this is failure in her life. She is expected to have no other path in life but this one.

• Mary goes to listen to Jesus. Jesus seems older than we expect. He has been on the road (and the thought goes to wonder about the hygiene of the times, the availability of water, the sleeping on the roads, the wandering life). Jesus is quiet, somewhat reserved. He rarely smiles. He seems to be more of the Jesus of Matthew’s Gospel, somewhat stern, very straightforward. He has chosen the Apostles, speaks of the coming of the kingdom but he is also emphatic on the kingdom within the human person.

• This perception of Jesus is that of Mary herself, which means that the film is really an interpretation of the Gospels, a ‘Gospel according to Mary Magdalene’. It is her religious experience, the events she participated in, a response to Jesus, communication with him, her view of Jesus, of Peter, Judas, of the apostles, of the crowds of followers.

• This is a female experience of Jesus, reminding audiences of gender differences, male-female complementarity.

• Mary listens to Jesus speak, she herself quoting at beginning and end the story of the woman with the mustard seed and its growth. She listens, she begins to smile, she identifies with Jesus, she is aware of his message of the kingdom within rather than the political upheaval that Peter and Judas seem to imagine. She experiences an immersion by Jesus and she is freed, she is liberated from evil spirits.

• In this film, Judas is the apostle with whom she immediately relates. The screenplay offers an interesting interpretation of Judas. He has been married, had a daughter, wife and child had been killed by Roman oppression. This motivates his enthusiasm for following Jesus, expecting Jesus to proclaim the kingdom, overthrow the Romans, a new and hopeful beginning for Israel. He chats happily with Mary, smiles, no suggestion of his being a thief. In fact, right up to the entry into Jerusalem, he is enthusiastic. When he sees Jesus antagonise the authorities with overturning the money tables and speaking to the religious leaders, he begins to wonder. He participates in the Last Supper, kisses Jesus in the garden – with Mary asking him what he had done. He had contrived the soldiers coming to arrest Jesus in the expectation that Jesus would spectacularly assert himself and the kingdom would begin. Bewildered, ideals shattered, he tells Mary that he is going to be with his family and hangs himself.

• Peter, on the other hand, is a strong character, talk about his leaving his young son to whom is devoted, instantly following Jesus, loyal to him, but with the earthbound expectation of the kingdom. He is also rather bewildered by Mary’s presence, by her closeness to Jesus, by her influence. It is clear that he finds it hard to comprehend how a woman can be present in their group. He discusses this with Mary – and has to learn from her how to respond to Jesus. (While the other apostles present, there is practically no individuation, even at the Last Supper when Mary sits on one side of Jesus, Peter on the other.)

• There is an interesting episode when the group go to Cana, Jesus preaching, especially to a group of women who listen, one recounting a dire story of a woman being raped and dying. Jesus makes the point by asking her how long she can keep hate in her heart, and whether she is any better for holding on to the hate rather than letting it go in forgiveness.

• Mary is very comfortable in Jesus’ presence. They clearly become friends. The screenplay presupposes the gospel perspective on the relationship. We use the word “celibate” and a word that is not as frequently used as in the past, “chaste”. One might think of the categories of Carl Jung, that Mary Magdalene dramatises the “anima” of Jesus, his feminine side. In fact, in dealing with of the people, Mary seems more “Jesus -like” then Jesus himself. To that extent, she is an interesting Christ figure.

• The sequence where Jesus preaches to the crowd, speaks to them spiritually, he gives a sign of peace and his followers encouraged to enable others to give the sign of peace, Peter moving amongst the crowd, Mary in the same way.

• Jesus and the appeal of the crowds to heal the dead man, his stopping, silent pity, lying down beside the dead man, giving life, feeling power go out of him (and the linking of this episode to that of Elijah in 1 Kings 17).

• Mary Magdalene encounters Mary, the mother of Jesus, whom Jesus has asked to come, especially in view of his expected death. Mary, mother, reminisces about Jesus as a boy, that he was tormented by others who said he had an evil spirit in him. Mary says she loved her son but she he was never completely his.

• Jesus knows that he must go to Jerusalem. Now there vast crowds about him, there scenes of the immense temple, exteriors and interiors, the crowds gathered around him, with palms, and the chant becomes “Messiah”.

• The main sequence in the temple has Jesus wandering, seeing the moneychangers, seeing the animals, especially the sacrificial blood on the ground, on the clothes of the slaughterers. He asks questions of the temple officials who say that this is the tradition, expected of the people. And Jesus reacts, overturning everything as the Gospel tells us. He is hurried away by Peter and Judas to the safety of the upper room.

• The Last Supper sequence is very simple and brief, the breaking and sharing of bread, Mary prominently participating in this Communion.

• The group hurries across a bridge to the garden of Gethsemane where Jesus goes to pray and the focus is on Peter, the apostles, discussing their puzzle about what was happening, Judas coming and kissing Jesus and the arrest.

• The passion sequences are very brief, Judas, after kissing Jesus, rather enthusiastically explaining to Mary that he had set everything up for Jesus to proclaim the kingdom, that he was already being judged but would assert himself.

• The scenes of the carrying of the cross and the crucifixion are very brief, effectively graphic in a way that will remind audiences of their own images and memories of the passion, Jesus carrying the cross, his blood, the falls, the nails being heard as they go into his flesh, Jesus on the cross, his mother Mary at the foot of the cross.

• Mary Magdalene has been caught up in the crowd on the way to Calvary, injured, collapsing, once again experiencing the shape of water, recovering and going to the foot of the cross where Jesus, as he dies, gazes at her.

• There is a brief Pieta sequence, Jesus on his mother’s lap, she bending over to embrace her dead son.

• Mary is at the tomb, rocks being placed in the wall of the tomb, her falling asleep, waking, hearing her name, seeing Jesus sitting some way from the tomb, her going to be with him.

• Mary returns to the upper room, the apostles express their fear, their disappointments, their not understanding – and it is Mary who has to explain to them that Jesus’ kingdom is not of this world, that it is in their hearts and that this is what they have to proclaim. Mary is the apostle of the apostles.


This is a film which should satisfy most Christian audiences. Catholics would respond well to it. It is a film which communicates the Gospel message of Gospel characters, not completely, but credibly to any open-minded audience interested in knowing Jesus in the Gospel stories better – with Mary Magdalene as a persuasive woman-guide.

THE MATRIX
and religious symbols

December 1st 2003

With Matrix Revolutions, the American screenwriters and directors, the Wachowski Brothers (Andy and Larry) have completed what has been one of the most popular and talked about film trilogies. While The Lord of the Rings showed us Tolkein's world and took its audiences into the mythical past and used religious symbols and motifs, The Matrix trilogy takes audiences into a future that is no less mythical and which also uses religious symbols and motifs.

With the release of The Matrix in 1999, audiences both young and old responded to its exploration of the relationship between humans and modern technology. Philosophers around the world hurried to write articles for academic journals on how it raised the problems of what is real, what exists only in the mind and the possibilities of co-existing dimensions. Noted Catholic Polish director, Kzrystoff Zannussi, a member of the Vatican's Council for Culture was of the opinion that the film was a contemptorary masterpiece and that people should see it, not only because of its extraordinary special effects but also because of its intellectual stimulus.

Matrix Revolutions, released around the world on the same day and the exact same time, became a talking point for religious educators and theologians. A world where human-created computers and machines now hold the humans to ransom and who burrow through the earth to destroy them and their refuge city, Sion, can only be saved by Neo, an anagram of the One.

The first film in The Matrix trilogy introduced Neo as a Saviour-figure, someone human (or programmed like one) to be the means of saving the human race. In death and resurrection imagery, he was killed and then loved back to life by the warrior, Trinity. In Matrix Reloaded, the saviour role of Neo is developed but left in abeyance until Revolutions. By Matrix Revolutions, Neo is still the Saviour-figure par excellence, referred to by his enemy, Bane, as 'the blind messiah'. In apocalyptic imagery, with overtones of biblical battle imagery, he saves the bereft humans in the city of Sion and confronts the Satan-figure, Mr Smith, and is seen, arms outstretched as on a cross. His blinded eyes see an internal vision, glowing beauty, a kind of 'beatific vision' which culminates in his final apotheosis.

While the Wachowski Brothers drew on all kinds of popular sagas and mythology, their use of names with Christian-overtones for their characters as well as imagery that is familiar from biblical stories, mean that there can be fruitful dialogue between the movie and the scriptures.

The descent of Jesus into 'hell' or 'hades' or 'to the dead' is an article of the Apostles' and Nicene Creeds. Speculation in the early decades of the Church are echoed in references in Matthew's Gospel, the letter to the Ephesians as well as the suggested readings from John and I Peter. The tradition suggests that, while Jesus died for all, his death led him first to be associated with those who had gone before and were waiting to rise to new life with him.

The Jewish scriptures are full of battle imagery where God conquers the enemies of Israel as they do battle with their foes. The tour-de-force battle scene in Matrix Revolution, where the machines finally bore down to the city of Sion to destroy the humans, is replete with spectacular war machines, desperate human weaponry to ward of the enemy and terrible destruction of the humans. It is useful to read chapters 38 and 39 of Ezekiel, the chapter of Armageddon, so beloved by fundamentalist and rapture Christians. Gog of Magog has a plan to destroy Israel but is no match for the power of God. God's warnings are given through the prophet. Perhaps the Wachowskis know Ezekiel. However, the machines are like Gog, overwhelming forces for destruction. The warriors of Sion are like the harassed people of Israel. Like Ezekiel, there is an Oracle who prophesies and guides, especially to lead the hero, Neo. These biblical battles provide a context for Jesus' descent to the Dead.

The overview is given in I Peter 3:18-20: Jesus' mission at his death is to go to those who have remained faithful, even if they have sinned, and rescue them. The letter uses a parallel with God's patience for those who remained faithful at the time of the deluge (and goes further to parallel the deadly deluge with the saving waters of Baptism). Now, the dead can be 'baptised' and saved through Jesus' presence.

Since Neo is the saviour, he is pictured in Matrix Revolutions going down into his own 'hell'. He is betrayed by Bane, blinded by him. But his inner vision leads him to guide Trinity above the machines to a safe vision of clear and beautiful skies before he descends to do battle with Mr Smith. Part of his 'hell' is the sacrificial death of his beloved Trinity. As the power of megalomaniac Smith (Satanic in its delusions of grandeur) seems to conquer him, he goes into a grave before he regains the strength (with the images of Neo, arms outstretched) to finally defeat Smith.

In this connection, the sayings of Jesus in John 5:24-30 are evocative: the special hour coming, the dead hearing the voice of Jesus, those good people in the tombs rising to new life because of Jesus doing the will of the Father who sent him on his mission. As Smith asks in bewilderment during their battle, 'Why'. Neo answers, 'Because I choose to'.

Of course, many viewers will look at The Matrix trilogy as exciting science fiction or futuristic fantasy. Some will respond, according to producer, Joel Silver, just on the visceral level. Others will respond to the mythic layers. A Catholic response will explore those mythic levels and discover the links between the scriptures, Jesus of the Gospels and the religious symbols. For audiences who are not sure of their faith or their biblical knowledge, the films provide aspects of a new apologetics, a contemporary invitation to examine the credibility of the Catholic tradition.

MEA MAXIMA CULPA: SILENCE IN THE HOUSE OF GOD.

13th March 2013


Clerical sexual abuse in the Catholic Church has been a public focus for more than twenty years in some countries. Victims have been exploited by predators. Ways for seeking and finding justice have been difficult. Church authorities have had to face the charges, the recriminations, the failures in leadership. All Catholics have had to share the shame. And sexual abuse is not something that will pass from world attention in the near future.

This statement is being written on March 13th. The Cardinals went into the conclave yesterday. We will soon know who the successor to Benedict XVI will be and what will be the directions for the Church in the coming years. Hopes have been expressed and many predictions. But we do not know. This film can serve as a summary of the state of the question up till now – though filming was completed in 2011 and the film released in late 2012, early 2013. It did not anticipate the resignation of Benedict XVI, but the situation would have been the same had the Pope died in office.

But, there is a major difference. The Cardinals, in this world of instant communication and social media, are aware of the needs of victims and of the scandals. They had a week of discussions before entering the conclave without any emotional burdens of mourning a dead pope. Audiences who see this film may well think that it would have been beneficial for the Cardinals to have attended a screening of the film. It serves as an aid to examination of conscience as well as an effective summary interpretation of the abuse, starting from an American story of the 1960s on, moving more nationally, then internationally, an outline of the way that bishops handled cases as well as how the Vatican bureaucracy dealt or did not deal with cases, requests and civil and canon law.

It needs to be said that this is a very well-made film. Audiences will not agree with all the speakers or the expert ‘talking heads’. After all, the film marshals facts but, as is any film, it is an interpretation. The writer-director, Alex Gibney, has very good credentials. He made the surprising an alarming Enron: the Smartest Guys in the Room (quite an expose) as well as winning an Oscar for Best documentary for another expose, this time torture in Afghanistan and Iraq, Taxi to the Darkside. Expose is his forte.

As with any successful film, the maker wants to draw the audience in. And that is what happens here. We are informed briefly about the woeful abuse career of Milwaukee priest, Lawrence Murphy. He is the offender for the first third of the film. But, the film is victim-focused, all the more emotionally telling here because we see men in their fifties and watch them tell their stories – ‘watch’ advisedly because the men are deaf and sign their stories, vividly and powerfully, while some articulate Hollywood actors speak their signed words.

Fr Lawrence Murphy, ordained in 1950, was a popular figure, fund raiser for the school for the deaf which he eventually ran for many years.

The stories of the men are told plainly, factually, especially of their childhood and family backgrounds. Some parents could not sign which put the boys at a great disadvantage in letting their parents know about the molestation. The stories are also told visually with many excerpts from home movies of the period, of the boys and their life at the school and of Fr Murphy himself. Which means greater repugnance from us the audience. We are not just hearing a story of someone whom we don’t know. We can see him and wonder how he could behave in such a destructive way.

The complaints and testimony are clear, detailed and, though some at the time could not believe the boys or such stories about a priest, undeniable. We hear their response to persistent abuse, some feeling of being singled out and special, their shock at experiences in confession and in Fr Murphy’s room and holiday house. And their resigning themselves to this fate.

The film moves on to their attempts to let others know what had happened to them, not heard at first. Or, heard, and not believed or believed and nothing done. It is pointed out that they lived in a time of protest and activism and this influenced their attempts to make their cases heard – including distributing in streets or outside church, posters denouncing Fr Murphy as an abuser. Evidence is shown that official complaints about Fr Murphy were made to the Apostolic Delegate in 1974.

That first section of the film was called ‘Lambs of God’. The next section introduces the veteran of studies of clerical celibacy, with interviews of priests over the decades, Richard Sipe. A former Benedictine, Sipe has written extensively. His introduction at this stage of the film enables him to offer something of the history of celibacy, deficiencies in formation of priests, the consequences of this as well as the loneliness in the celibate vocation. The selection of sequences with Sipe are judiciously chosen and make a great deal of sense (while not saying everything, as many would point out). Other experts seen in the film include another former Benedictine, Patrick , who had a mission of moving around examining cases but who ultimately found it, and his perceptions of covering priests, too much and so left the priesthood.

The passionate Fr Doyle, the American priest who has been constant in his work (and now, perhaps, feeling justified in his perseverance of cases and issues, especially in the context of law and Canon Law) has a great deal to day about cases, about the loyal impulses of priests, bishops and devout laity who have felt that they must protect the church at all cost.

There are some interesting sub-plots, so to speak, which enhance the quality of the film and its research. The story of Fr Gerald Fitzgerald and his founding of the Servants of the Paracletes in the 1940s, an order to work with priest sexual offenders as well as priest alcoholic. He advocated spiritual reform rather than psychology, but he and his order are praised for recognizing and acknowledging the problems andwanting the priests out of and away from ministry.

The other sub-plot concerns the career of money-raiser, founder of the Legionaries of Christ, confidante of Cardinals and Popes, who was a Jeckyll and Hyde perpetrator of sex crimes and injustices. His story, well illustrated in terms of clerical patronage, is told in the context of John Paul II (who favoured him) and Benedict XVI (who ultimately dismissed him to a life of prayer and penance, though beachfront footage of Jacksonville, Florida, is shown as his final home).

From Wisconsin, the second third of the film moves to Boston and the 2002 uncovering of scandals, the arrests and gaoling of Frs Geoghan and Shanley, the resignation of Cardinal Law (with adverse comments on his leadership on the issue in Boston) and his comfortable career and life in Rome. From there, the films to Ireland (the film does have some Irish finance in it), the case in focus being that of Fr Tony Walsh, a singing priest with a popular reputation, in denial of his abuse at first, then admitting it but not being defrocked until almost 20 years after the first reports.


We all need to be media savvy, knowing what we want to say and saying it, without ambiguity or leaving ourselves open to misinterpretation or ridicule. There is a terrible moment in an interview with Cardinal Desmond Connell of Dublin (who is later shown as having made some effort, though belatedly, in contacting Rome about cases). He is asked if it would have been good to have visited victims. He does admit it would, but, unfortunately, for himself and his reputation, he adds, even with traces of a smile, that he does have many things to do.


At different stages during the film, opinions are given as well as questions raised as to how anyone could commit such crimes. Some technical language is used, quite enlightening and suggesting further reflection. ‘Noble cause corruption’ is one contribution, the perpetrator’s belief in his own good. There are later quotations from Fr Murphy stating that he was trying to help the boys, some with sexual orientation difficulties, that he behaved as he did to help some boys through sexual confusion, that he recognised their needs, even taking their sins on himself – and that he prayed and confessed afterwards. There was also mention of ‘cognitive distortion’ in the way that the abuser interpreted his behaviour. On the other hand, one of the men remembers an occasion in the dormitory, a crucifix nearby, ‘There was Jesus on the cross, dying with a broken heart’ and not helping him.

The only other member of the clergy to be interviewed for the film besides Fr Doyle is Archbishop Rembert Weakland of Milwaukee, who talks frankly and with sorrow and shame about events in his own life (nothing to do with abuse of minors) who, when asked had he met Fr Murphy, replied that the main impression he made was that he was childlike in his self-delusions.

The film does return to the men of Milwaukee and their attempts to make their case heard, including relying on their lawyer, Jeff Anderson, the man who took out applications to sue the Pope, Cardinal Bertone and Cardinal Sodano who, by this stage of the film, does not look good at all, especially in his espousal of the cause of Fr Maciel and receiving his large donations, but who became notorious when he referred in a speech to the Pope about the sex abuse scandals as media ‘gossip’. (This scene is included.)

But, in the latter third of the film, the focus is well and truly on Rome. One of the difficulties is the constant referring to ‘The Vatican’. While the references to the Pope and the Curia are accurate in their way, it is particular people in the Vatican and its bureaucracy who are responsible. The whole section will be fascinating to many Catholics but may be too general or taking us into unfamiliar realms which may make it rather difficult for some non-Catholic audiences.

Here is where the investigative journalism can be hard work. The film tries to give some dates for letters coming to the Office of Doctrine of the Faith, of Cardinal Ratzinger’s decisions that all cases come to him which, as the narrator suggests, makes him the most informed person in the world on this abuse. Dates are given as are examples of letters sent and not answered, or material back to sender as unwanted.

The continual accusation is the slowness of authorities to reply, to act, to sanction. There is the difference in ideology in the past that abuse was a sin, and therefore to be repented of and forgiven, rather than a crime. Even in English-speaking countries which Rome thought were the only countries where this kind of abuse really took place, it was only in the 1990s that most realised or were informed that this sexual abuse of minors was a crime, police matter. Without in any way undermining the seriousness of the crimes, we can see that nowadays a lot of anger comes from assuming that what we know now was known clearly then and not acted on. (In Australia, this will come up in the Royal Commission into non-governmental organisations, but accusations of harassment and abuse in the Australian Defence Forces have been met with the now familiar defensive statements, the same with the BBC heads and their comments on the sexual predation of TV personality, Jimmy Saville).

It is in this section, that the film-makers offer many talking heads for our consideration: Robert Mickens, correspondent for the Tablet, Linda Goodstein from the New York Times, Marco Politi, an Italian Vatican expert, human rights lawyer, Geoffrey Robertson who believes the Vatican should be sued and that it is not really a country, Pope John Paul, like many a bishop, may have initially disbelieved that such behaviour could occur. There is also an excerpt from a TV interview with William Donoghue, the loudly aggressive head of the Catholic League in the United States. Pope Benedict had so much data (the story of his sending a member of his office to the US to collect the data of Fr Maciel on the evening of John Paul’s death makes for interesting viewing) but delayed in acting on it. An excerpt where he says he is shocked that priests could behave like this is noted as indicating how he thought about priests and the dignity of priesthood first rather than victims. However, there is another excerpt from him, putting the victims first. (This may have come from his meeting with victims on his visits to the US, Australia and other countries, something which is not mentioned in the film.)

One secular reviewer called out as he left the film, ‘All I know is that Ratzinger’s to blame’. While allotting blame, that is not exactly the response to the film.

At the end we go back to Milwaukee. We see the men signing again, ‘Deaf Power!’. We see their desperation, their being acknowledged (after some scenes with Archbishop Cousins of Milwaukee in the 1970s whose response was erratic, inclined not to believe such stories about a priest, meeting with Fr Murphy rather than asking any of the other students and sending a nun (name and photo supplied in the film) to get one of the men to recant his statement and make an apology to the archdiocese). One writes a letter to Cardinal Sodano, telling the story, asking for Fr Murphy to be stood down, noting that he is still allowed to receive communion when others who are far less guilty are forbidden. Two of them went to see Fr Murphy before he died in 1998, with a camera, but he told them to go away, that he was an old man and wanted to live in dignity. He seems to have gone out, nevertheless, to play poker machines and collapsed, and buried in vestments as a priest. But, the men are alive, relieved and, still in the spirit of activism, American style, protesting.

Fr Doyle reminds us that the emphasis on the priest as sacred at this juncture is not helpful, nor is the loyal, traditional ‘Catholic mindset’. Archbishop Weakland adds that there has been a long held belief in the Perfect Church – and the sooner that is forgotten, the better.

So, in 2012-2013, here is a film that summarises much of the history of abuse and how it was handled and mishandled or not handled. It will be released in many territories after the election of the new Pope.


Catholics and faith. Someone remarks that many have lost faith in the hierarchical church – but that they have not lost their faith.


Note:

For reference, the main films produced and widely distributed – not the many current affairs and documentary films for television – on the sexual abuse of male minors, the particular focus of Silence in the House of God – include:

1990, Judgment, US, with Keith Carradine, Blythe Danner, David Strathairn
1996, Pianese Nuzio, Italy, with Fabio Bentivoglio
2002, Song for a Raggy Boy, Ireland, with Patrick Bergin, Aidan Quinn
2004, Mal Educacion, Spain, with Gael Garcia Bernal
2005, Our Fathers, US, with Christopher Plummer, Brian Dennehy, Ted Danson
2006, Primal Fear, with Richard Gere, Edward Norton
2006, Deliver Us from Evil, documentary, director Amy Berg
2008, The Least of These, with Isiah Washington
2008, Doubt, with Meryl Streep, Philip Seymour Hoffman, Amy Adams

THE NATIVITY STORY

26th October 2006

The Nativity Story is precisely that, a year in the life of Mary which culminates in the birth of Jesus, the visits of the shepherds and the magi to the stable, Herod’s brutal response in massacring the innocents and Joseph and Mary escaping to Egypt.

Most audiences will find a great deal to interest them, evoking their emotions concerning this story and its part in their religious memories, devotion and reflection on their Christian faith. It also offers a great deal of background to the infancy narratives of Matthew’s and Luke’s Gospels for those who are not Christians.

MARY FILMS

The Nativity Story, as a film, takes its place in quite a long list of films that portray Mary. While there are several films which focus on apparitions (The Song of Bernadette, The Miracle of Our Lady of Fatima, Gospa) and films which have Mary as a character (The Miracle) as well as characters who parallel Mary’s story in some way (Agnes of God), the main film focus has been on Mary herself and her being the mother of Jesus.

A brief reminder of these films may be of interest, especially for comparisons with the treatment of Mary in The Nativity Story.

Mary appears in a number of the early silent films which dramatised the life of Jesus. They are now lost, although stills are often reproduced. Mary and the infancy stories were very popular as was her role at Cana and her being at the foot of the cross.

D.W. Griffith includes the sequence of the miracle of Cana in his 1916 biblical and historical epic, Intolerance. He also used a Mary image of the eternal mother rocking the cradle of children. Mary is also featured with reverence in many episodes of Cecil B. De Mille’s 1927 story of Jesus, The King of Kings.

From 1927 to 1961 when King of Kings was released – the first mainstream Gospel film in which Jesus spoke – there was an absence of Jesus films. This seems a strange phenomenon for such a long period which included the Depression, World War II and the early decade of the Cold War. By the early 1950s, with The Robe, Jesus was glimpsed or part of him was seen, like his lower legs and feet in the Crucifixion scene in The Robe or seen from the back in Ben Hur. Mary is seen as a crib like figure in the Bethlehem tableau.

It can be noted that independent Protestant film-makers, especially in the 1940s and 1950s had no hesitation in presenting Jesus as a fully seen and speaking character.

Four films from the period 1961-1971 really introduced the character of Mary to cinema. Irish actress, Siobhan McKenna? played her in King of Kings and Dorothy Mc Guire in The Greatest Story every Told (1965). While they were full characterisations of Mary, the treatment tended to be of the very reverent and restrained kind. The danger with this kind of representation is that Mary seems to be something of a statue or paining come to life, but still the equivalent of a painting.

It was Italian directors who had most success in making Mary more of a flesh and blood character. As early as 1964, in Pasolini’s Gospel According to Matthew, the director cast a young girl for the nativity scenes and the flight into Egypt. She was not a professional actress and Pasolini wanted audiences to appreciate her youth and innocence and her response to what God was asking of her. When it came to the Passion sequences, he cast his mother. The weeping and wailing Mary at Calvary, rather Italian histrionic in style, was an older woman who had experienced life and suffered with her son. Roberto Rossellini also brought this Italian style to his 1971 The Messiah.

One of the most popular screen portraits of Mary is found in Zeffirelli’s Jesus of Nazareth (1977). With its large scope and eight hour running time for television, the director had plenty of time to show Gospel scenes at length. Olivia Hussey was Mary, both as a young girl and as a mature woman. Zeffirelli and his writer, novelist Anthony Burgess, spent a great deal of time on the infancy narratives, including an Annunciation where the presence of the angel Gabriel is suggested rather than seen as well as the grief of the Crucifixion.

Audiences on either side of the Atlantic had different reactions to the Monty Python’s Life of Brian, North Americans tending to find it too irreverent, even blasphemous, while the British enjoyed the style of its satire. Whatever the reaction, it was another perspective, not so much on the Gospel stories as on the way they were solemnly treated in biblical epics. Brian’s mother was a screeching harridan, upbraiding the Magi on their visit (where they hurried away to the real birth of the Messiah up the street) and urging the gullible crowds away from the grown-up Brian with the now famous words, ‘He’s not the Messiah, he’s just a naughty boy’.

Post- Python, it meant that the Gospel stories would have to be made differently and not leave themselves open to satire.

The late 70s and early 80s saw the popularity of the telemovie and the mini-series. Two Mary films came out of Hollywood. The first dealt with the same period that The Nativity Story covers, Mary and Joseph (1979). Reviewed poorly, it nevertheless had quite some appeal for younger audiences who were able to imagine what her experiences must have been like for Mary (even though the protagonists were particularly American in look and sound). There was also The Nativity, focusing on this same period and the birth of Jesus (1984).

The only appearance of Mary on the cinema screen during the 1980s was in Martin Scorsese’s The Last Temptation of Christ (1988). All the characters here are shown as down to earth and earthy, in keeping with the origin of the film as a novel by Nikos Kazantzakis rather than a Gospel. One interesting appearance in this film is Mary, along with other guests, men and women, at the Last Supper.

Again, the 1990s did not have so many Gospel films (except for local religious groups in different countries making their own films for localised audiences). The Italian, Mary, Daughter of her Son, dramatised the life of Mary as did the French Mary of Nazareth, by French director, Jean Delannoy (1995) which was a rather literal rendition of the Gospels with many sequences hurried because of the small budget. But, from 1999 there have been quite a number.

These include a film explicitly named Mary, made for CBS television in anticipation of the Millennium. Mary is portrayed with great reverence by Pernille August. At the same time, there was a Jesus for the Millennium with Jeremy Sisto giving an attractive performance as a very human Jesus yet one who conveyed his sense of divinity. Mary appears quite extensively in this film, very much present during the public life and ministry of Jesus. She was played by Jacqueline Bissett.

Mary appears in the animated The Miracle Maker, in the television film, Judas, where the Annunciation is explained verbally as Mary talks to Judas in her kitchen. The Canadian-made The Gospel of John includes the complete text of the Gospel with Mary appearing at Cana and at Calvary. The appearance is confined by the use of the actual text.

Which leads to Mary in The Passion of the Christ (2004). Mel Gibson’s take on Mary shows her as older, with an inner serenity that manifests itself in profound, emotional but restrained grief. There are brief flashbacks to the very human Mary, anxious as the child Jesus trips and falls, a playful scene at Nazareth as Jesus makes a table and he splashes her as she urges him to his meal. She is shown in the company of Mary Magdalene, especially at the scourging after which they attempt to mop up Jesus’ blood and at the foot of the cross. Not only are there echoes of the Pieta, but Gibson has a prolonged take of the silent, sorrowing Mary staring straight to camera.

In forty five years, Mary has moved from devout and reverent Gospel figure to a flesh and blood character. This is the context for The Nativity Story at the end of 2006.

THE PRESENTATION OF MARY

There is very little detail about the life of Mary, especially before Jesus’ birth, in the infancy narratives of Matthew and Luke. We know that she is from Nazareth and was betrothed to Joseph who is later referred to as a carpenter. We read the stories of the annunciation, Mary’s visit to her pregnant cousin, Elizabeth, Joseph’s bewilderment and dream and his taking Mary as his wife, the journey to Bethlehem and the birth of Jesus in humble circumstances. Mary is described several times in Luke as ‘pondering all these things in her heart. While Luke evokes the story of Jesus’ presentation in the temple, his growing up in Nazareth and the journey to Jerusalem where he was lost and found, there is nothing else about Mary after the flight into Egypt.

The early Christian centuries saw imaginative speculation about Mary’s childhood, her betrothal and incidents in Jesus’ childhood. It is from these rather than scriptural writings that we learn names for Mary’s parents, Joachim and Anne. There are the stories of the presentation of Mary in the Temple and fanciful stories of the choice of her husband: a story of Joseph’s rod, amongst all the other suitors’ rods, blooming into a lily. Another story involved a family helping Mary and Joseph on their way to Egypt and one of this family being Dismas who turned out to be the good thief on Calvary.

What writer Mike Rich has done with The Nativity Story is to set the historical scene, especially the tyrannical rule of Herod the Great, his heavy taxing of the people and his lavish building program. This establishes the situation of Roman rule in Palestine and the administration of Herod – offering the background to the census which requires Joseph to travel to Bethlehem.

Rich uses the opening of Luke’s Gospel with the prayer of Zachary in the Temple, Elizabeth’s unexpected pregnancy, Mary’s visit and the birth of the Baptist. This gives something of the religious background of the Judaism and religious practice of the time. What Rich does is to imagine what it was like to live in an impoverished Nazareth, find a language for Mary and her parents to communicate in, establish Joseph as a character and the plausibility of the betrothal. He uses the text from Luke, quite frequently verbatim, as well as Joseph’s dream from Matthew. The Magi story is an embroidering of Matthew and his references to Wise Men, stars and astronomy, and their coming from the East (with their costly gifts). The massacre of the innocents is also a Matthean story.

This means that the screenplay is a blend of biblical texts and scenes and some re-creation of period and what it might have been like in Nazareth. He has written his characters with empathy and insight so that these incidents are attractive and credible – though, as always, many will have particular reservations.

BIBLICAL BACKGROUND

For an authentic portrait of Mary in her times, it is not simply historical background that is necessary but biblical background. This is where so many of the Mary presentations fail to give a rich portrait. Mary, Joseph , their relatives and friends and, of course, Jesus himself are the last figures of the Old Testament as well as being at the beginning of the New. This means that the Mary portrait needs to indicate aspects of the Old Testament as part of Mary’s religion and spirituality. The Nativity Story does this quite insightfully at times.

As has been noted, attention is given to the Temple rituals with Zachary’s turn as priest going into the Holy of Holies (with some Hebrew recited to remind us of the language of the bible). Later, Herod is present in the Temple for the ritual slaughter of a cow as part of a scapegoat ceremony for the removal of sins. When Joseph eats during the journey to Bethlehem, he prays a grace in Hebrew. This helps an Old testament atmosphere permeate the film.

Then there are explicit texts which are worth noting. The prologue is from Jeremiah highlighting the need for a saviour to come for salvation for the people. As regards the coming of the saviour, there is a very pleasing episode where a woman is teaching the scriptures to a group of children and Mary comes to deliver cheese. The teacher leads them in the text of God’s special presence on Horeb to Elijah. God is not in the fire. God is not in the wind. The children attest out loud that God is present in the gentle breeze. This recitation precedes Gabriel’s arrival and annunciation of God’s gentle incarnate presence. The text is later quoted by Elizabeth, and Mary joins in.

When Mary and Joseph arrive in Jerusalem, a street preacher is shouting texts (and is arrested and taken away). He is quoting the early chapters of Isaiah which herald the coming of a special saviour child. Herod is somewhat paranoid as regards threats to his throne and declares that it is a mistake not to take notice of prophecies. With the priests, and then with the Magi, he looks at the text from Micah about the saviour coming from Bethlehem. While the Magi are presented as more interested in details of astronomy, they are shown initially as studying ancient Hebrew texts and, on their way, they also quote from the book of Isaiah. This is the text which is the basis for stories of people from the East coming to Israel in search of the saviour.

Luke’s use of the Old Testament is a poetic use, weaving in strands and quotations from many of the books. Matthew is specific in naming prophecies that are being fulfilled and quoting them. One ‘if only…’ would be that the screenplay had incorporated more of these to make the context richer. Where the screenplay excels is in its omission of Mary’s canticle, The Magnificat, from the Visitation story but making it the conclusion of the film. As the holy family go through the desert to Egypt, Mary proclaims many of the
verses of the Magnificat (as the strains of Silent Night come up for the closing credits). With The Magnificat, the film ends on a biblical high.

THEOLOGY

The Nativity Story is not a theological work but it presents sound theology. The virginal conception of Jesus is clear from the way that the Annunciation is staged and the consequences for Mary and her reputation in Nazareth and Joseph’s dilemma as to what he should do about his betrothal and impending marriage. It is quite clear that the residents of Nazareth, including Mary’s close friends, girls her own age, take a very dim view of her pregnancy. We see Mary being stoned – although this is part of Joseph’s dream, it reminds us of the applications of the Mosaic law (remembering the story of the woman taken in adultery in John 8).

The Lukan narrative offers Elizabeth’s pregnancy as a sign for Mary. The film gives its full attention to the Zachary and Elizabeth story in Luke and Mary’s presence in her visitation for the last three month’s of Elizabeth’s pregnancy.

Jesus as saviour is to the fore in the film, especially with the allusions to Old Testament prophecy. Interestingly, this theme is emphasised in the Herod story, not only the discussion of the texts with the Magi but Herod’s initial reading of the texts that the Messiah from Bethlehem would be an adult. Hence his welcoming of the census. There is a sequence where Joseph is stopped and interrogated on his way to Bethlehem as the soldiers search for the alleged Messiah. It is only after the meeting with the Magi that Herod looks for a newborn child.

The more conventional presentation of the manger and the crib, with the visit of the shepherds and the gifts of the Magi, reinforce the perspective of the divinity of Jesus in conditions that are witness to his humanity.

SPIRITUALITY

It might he useful to make some distinctions between piety, devotion and spirituality, even if they overlap.

Piety is a simple religious appreciation of a mystery of faith. The Nativity Story offers a grounding for Marian piety though its style is not particularly pious. It is only the presentation of the Nativity itself, especially the manger sequences with their tableau of baby, mother and Joseph, the animals and the visits of shepherds and Magi and light beaming (rather too much like a celestial searchlight from the symbolic start) on the stable, that the film could be described as pious. These scenes are like a Christmas play, very different from the more down-to-earth scenarios that have preceded them.

Rather, the film offers more for devotion for believers. Devotion is more an attitude of mind and heart that is deeper than piety. Devotion means that there are consequences for belief, stronger understanding of the mysteries of faith and the overflow into prayer, whether it be the saying of prayers (the Rosary, of course, comes to mind) or a more wordless, meditative prayer.

Audiences interested in devotion to Mary should be well satisfied. Only at the nativity itself is she the Madonna. Prior to that, she is a credible young girl who experiences God in an extraordinary way and allows this experience to shape her life. She is ordinary in the best sense, audiences being able to identify with her and her experience, especially the months of her pregnancy and the journey from Nazareth. She is not presented as the moving equivalent of a statue or a holy card as was the case in some previous films. This Mary is real.

Audiences who have a devotion to Joseph will be very happy with this portrayal. Here is a vigorous young man, down-to-earth, puzzled but honourable. He is presented as a three-dimensional character, definitely not a statue. The scenes where he discusses with Mary what it will be like with Jesus and whether they will be able to teach him bring the reality of the incarnation alive in pleasant detail.

Spirituality is the foundation of piety and devotion. Spirituality is a way of life in prayer and action. The Nativity Story was not intended as a spiritual cinema work. But much of it will work this way. Some devotions separate out particular aspects of Mary’s life. By telling a story of Mary in the year before Jesus’ birth, a credible story imagining what that year might have been like, the film gives us Mary as a person. Mary is presented in real situations, difficult situations of poverty, hardship and taxation. She is presented in an almost impossible situation, her pregnancy outside marriage and the consequences for her and Joseph amidst her own people. We see her developing as a girl, a young woman of surrender and faith – which culminates in joy in the birth of Jesus. The film ends with her Magnificat prayer but not the promise of an easy happy ending as she escapes with Joseph into Egypt.

One striking thing about the screenplay is Mary’s awareness of Messiah’s in her time. Some commentators suggest that Mary was privy to the details of God’s plan from the time she encountered the angel Gabriel. Others emphasise what she did not know and how, gradually, she had to learn what her motherhood of Jesus meant. With the prevalence of upstart revolutionaries against Herod and against Rome at that tome, with the prevalence of Messiah claimants, it was ‘in the air’ so to speak that Messiah’s would be born. To that extent, Mary’s listening to Gabriel and learning of her destiny would not be at all unknown or alien to her.

THE FILM

By way of review.

The Nativity Story is a worthy enterprise that, by and large, comes off well. It is also a modest enterprise. It is to the credit of New Line Cinema that they were prepared to venture into this kind of religious film-making. Of course, the box-office success of The Passion of the Christ and the realisation that there was an audience for this kind of religious film was an encouragement. Screenwriter Mike Rich (The Rookie, Finding Forrester) has a church background and a respect for his biblical sources. Director Catherine Hardwicke (Thirteen, Lords of Dogtown) was an architect and production designer before her work as a director and she brings a detailed eye to sets and the re-creation of the era. She has brought a personal devotion to the enterprise as well as a female perspective to the story.

New Zealand actress, Keisha Castle- Hughes (Whale Rider) fits the role of the young girl, Mary, very well – a bit stern at first but mellowing when Joseph accepts her. Oscar Isaac as Joseph brings him to life. The Iranian actress, Shohreh Aghdashloo is Elizabeth and the Israeli actress Hiam Abbass is the mother of Mary. The whole cast, quite international, performs with the same slightly accented English.

As has been noted, the screenplay is well-grounded in the biblical texts, both the heritage of the Old Testament as well as the text and spirit of the Gospel infancy narratives. This gives the film an advantage over narratives which limit the perspective to a literal reading of texts and rely on piety traditions for visual presentation. It has also been noted that the screenplay offers substantial historical background to understand Palestine in these times and how the characters were influenced by their environment as well as by the harshness of authorities.

As with the apocryphal gospels of the early Christian centuries, the film is imaginatively inventive concerning incidents not in the Gospels as well as presenting scenes which are. Nazareth was not an easy place to live in. The residents were poor and oppressed, especially by taxation. This had its consequences on work in the town, the fields and harvests, the making of basic foods and selling them, the work of builders and carpenters. This is the credible and realistic setting of the film. The other major invention is that of the journey from Nazareth to Bethlehem. This is a very pleasing part of the film, giving enough time for us to appreciate the hardships (lack of food, desert crossings, dangerous rocky paths, the swirling Jordan, the approach to Jerusalem with road blocks, wayside preachers, fortune tellers, the bustle of the city) as well as conversation between Mary and Joseph about the future.

When the screenplay uses direct texts from the Gospels as part of the drama, it is not so effective. They move too quickly. This is the case when Mary arrives at Elizabeth’s house and, barely, turning round Elizabeth utters the greeting verbatim from Luke and the acknowledgement of Mary as the mother of the Lord.

There are a lot of Magi sequences (too many) with more emphasis on the astronomy than on the Hebrew texts they also quote. Their differing characters provide touches of broad humour as well. On the other hand Ciaran Hinds is a sinister, egoistic and paranoid Herod – with a rather oily Antipas, his son, giving him sinister advice.

There will be some discussion about some of the visuals, especially the appearance of Gabriel. He is a voice only for Zachary. He is a swiftly place-changing physical presence to Mary (although the annunciation works quite well when it is filmed in close-ups of Mary and Gabriel in conversation). He appears briefly in Joseph’s dream. There is a bird motif at various moments representing the Holy Spirit that is sometimes too long and obvious. The star and the light shining on the crib is too static and Christmas card-like. The Silent Night ending seems a bit much but, on the other hand, it evokes memories of Christmas for the audience.

The appeal of the film is to the Christian audience which should welcome it – with the hope that it will have a wider appeal to non-Christians.


STUDY GUIDE: in conjunction with the release of the film, a study guide, written by Sr Rose Pacatte FSP, has been published by Pauline Media, Boston. Sr Rose has also edited a series of essays by women on Mary, also published by Pauline Media, Boston.

THE NINTH DAY/ DER NEUNTE TAG

November 26th 2004

This film statement is not about a controversial film. Rather, The Ninth day concerns OCIC (the former Organisation Catholique Internationale du Cinéma) and SIGNIS (the present World Catholic Association for Communication).

It is based on a memoir written by Fr Jean Bernard at the end of World War II, after his release from Dachau. At the outbreak of war, the OCIC Secretariat in Brussels was occupied by the Germans. Jean Bernard was the secretary general. Abbé Brohée, the president, remained during the war years as chaplain to a convent outside the city. He died in 1947. Jean Bernard had returned to his native Luxembourg. However, he was arrested at the French border and sent to Dachau. OCIC was targeted by the Germans because its reviews had not praised the films of the propaganda machine that were already being released.

After the war, Jean Bernard went to Switzerland to recuperate but was back in Brussels by 1946 preparing for a congress. He became president of OCIC in 1947 and remained in that position until 1972. During his presidency, OCIC began its jury work at world film festivals, in Venice in 1948, Cannes in 1952, Berlin in 1954. During the 1950s, juries were established in Spain and in Latin America. There was also an annual Grand Prix. Winners of this award included La Strada (1954), On the Waterfront (1955), The Prisoner (1956).

Jean Bernard contributed to church thinking on media at the Second Vatican Council (1962-1965) and in subsequent years. He also steered OCIC through difficult times when there was strong questioning of its decisions, a prize to Pasolini’s Teorema in Venice, 1969 (who had previously won the prize there in 1964 for The Gospel According to Matthew) and to John Schlesinger’s Midnight Cowboy in Berlin, 1970. After his retirement he returned to Luxembourg and worked for Catholic media. He also hosted several OCIC meetings there. He died in 1994.

Jean Bernard did not speak about the nine day leave he was given from Dachau in January 1942. The screenplay for the film, The Ninth Day, speculates and creates a plausible scenario. In the film, Bernard is called Henri Kremer (played by Ulrich Matthes). He comes from a respectable family, his brother an industrialist working for the regime. Kremer has been told by a young SS officer (August Diehl) to visit the Archbishop (who has retreated to his home, refusing to collaborate) and persuade him to support the occupying administration and save the Catholic Church, promising that in the post-war Reich the Church would play a significant role. The varying opinions about the role of Pius XII are discussed. If Kremer does not return by the ninth day, the priests in Dachau will be executed.

Distinguished German director, Volker Schloendorff, has made an intelligent drama that raises the principal issues of the war in Europe: Aryan supremacy, the extermination of the Jews, occupying forces and government, collaboration and resistance, torture and executions, the role of religion and the Catholic Church. The young SS officer (who is revealed to have been a seminarian and ordained deacon but who opted for the Reich to better the world) argues that Jesus went beyond Judaism and that this was the vision of Judas, that his ‘betrayal’ of Jesus and his own past was a heroic action. Kremer returns to Dachau.

Audiences have seen concentration camp films for many decades. Schloendorff, however, brings a forcefully grim style to his sequences, including the crucifixion and crowning with barbs of a Polish priest. He also highlights the moral integrity of the prisoners, especially Kremer’s acknowledging to himself on his return that he is in the place where he should be, where God wanted him to be.

The film’s Luxembourg premiere, held on November 25th, 2004, revealed the country’s admiration for Jean Bernard and his heroic stances. Volker Schloendorff himself payed tribute to him as a model of authentic priestly commitment. He spoke of his contribution as a Catholic priest to the dialogue between the Church and professional cinema worldwide. It was fitting that he should receive a memoir and a tribute in a film.
The film premiered at the Locarno Film Festival in 2004.

In February 2005, it was selected for the official international competition in the Fajr Festival in Tehran, Iran. The international jury was a multi-faith jury representing Iran, Turkey, Turkmenistan, Russia, Lebanon and the US. The Ninth Day was awarded prizes for Best Film, Best Director and Best Actor.

On a personal level, I felt touched and proud to be one of his successors in OCIC and SIGNIS.

LA NEUVAINE/ THE NOVENA

12th August 2005

This is not a statement about a controversial film that involves religious issues. Rather, it is a statement to draw attention to a film that is religious in the best sense of the word.

Many explicitly religious films fall short of expectations because they exhibit a too earnest proseletysing zeal or depict aspects of piety that many audiences find puzzling, incongruous or simply alienating. La Neuvaine succeeds in portraying simple faith with great respect and without being patronising. It is also able to portray lack of faith in God in contemporary secular society with sympathy and understanding.

Writer-director, Bernard Emond, is an anthropologist by training. He has worked in Inuit television and has made short films, documentaries and some feature films. He declares that he is a non-believer but he affirms the long tradition of Catholic faith in his native Quebec. He is also concerned that today's Canadians in the province of Quebec are in danger of cutting themselves off from this religious tradition and losing this heritage.

In the aftermath of the Second Vatican Council, the church of Quebec reacted quickly to change in the Catholic Church and many Catholics found themselves rejecting so much of their religious upbringing and practice, eager to throw off what they saw as ecclesiastical authoritarianism. Some of the clearest cinema expressions of this reaction are found in Denys Arcand's 1988 Jesus of Montreal. His Decline of the American Empire (1987) and its Oscar-winning sequel, The Barbarian Invasions (2003) should be seen in this perspective.

Emond clearly inhabits the world that Arcand suggests. However, he brings to La Neuvaine the simplicity of film language that marks the films of Robert Bresson, a plainness and an austerity of style that communicate directly but suggest deeper meanings, especially some opening to what we might call 'the transcendent'. To continue the cinema connections, it could be added that the central character of La Neuvaine, a non-believing doctor, would be at home in her search for meaning in her life in Kieslowski's Decalogue.

The title is something of a challenge. Novenas, even amonst Catholics, are not in vogue everywhere as they once were. They are a feature of populr religious culture. Nine days of continued prayer for a special intention, even some kind of miracle, has been a popular practice over the centuries. In La Neuvaine, Francois, a young man who personifies goodness in a kindly but down-to-earth way, helps on a farm, works in a small supermarket in a provincial town. When told that his grandmother is dying (she has brought him up since his parents were killed in a car crash when he was very young), he decides to make a novena for her recovery. He goes on a daily pilgrimage to the shrine of St Anne to invoke her assistance. The shrine has a priest, in his vestments, always available in a kind of shop-front to bless the pilgrims. (The credits indicate that the shrine is under the care of the Redemptorists who will be glad of the attention given to their ministry.)

The central character is Jeanne, a highly professional doctor who has experienced the long illness and death of her child. There is no place for faith in her life. She has also taken care of a battered wife and her daughter and experienced the anger of the violent husband. Her recuperation takes her to the vicinity of the shrine and a sympathetic encounter with Francois.

La Neuvaine does not push the religious experiences of its characters and does not push religion at its audience. Ultimately, there are no obvious miracles and no obvious conversions. Rather, the audience appreciates Francois' straightforward faith and piety - and sees that Jeanne's kindness towards his grandmother as she dies, is a real answer to prayer. The audience appreciates the change in Jeanne, that she can continue her healing work as a doctor - she has to respond to a sudden emergency outside the shrine as a man suffers a heart attack - and can minister to the grandmother. Deeper possibilities for hope emerge.

Throughout the film there are interludes of voiceover as Jeanne quietly discusses her non-faith with a probing questioner. It is only at the end, when she stands watching the priest in the blessing room, that we appreciate she has been exploring her life and its meaning with him.

La Neuvaine was entered in competition in the Locarno Film Festival, August 2005. It received serious attention, packed houses and favourable reviews. This surprised many festival-goers: that a secular audience would be so moved by religious themes, even explicitly Catholic themes. It won the ecumenical award for the quality of its film-making and the skill in its presenting its religious and values content. It also won the best actor award and a special award from a jury of young people.

It will prove a valuable resource for discussions about contemporary faith.

SIGNIS STATEMENT

March 27, 2014



NOAH

SIGNIS STATEMENT

March 27, 2014

NOAH

US, 2014, 138 minutes, Colour.
Russell Crowe, Jennifer Connolly, Emma Watson, Ray Winstone, Logan Lerman, Douglas Booth, Anthony Hopkins.
Directed by Darren Aronofsky.

Noah has been produced as a big budget entertainment movie for world release. It is not a documentary, and it is not a visual aid to study of the book of Genesis. It is the brain-child of writer-director, Darren Aronofsky. Commentators note that his dramas are preoccupied with a range of obsessives, Pi, Requiem for a Dream, The Wrestler, The Black Swan. Noah joins their obsessive company.

The film is divided into two parts: the establishment of the character of Noah and his family, his sense of mission, the building of the Ark. This part plays very much like an epic movie, or one of those Marvel Comics movies. The second part has the family on the Ark, focuses on the character of Noah, especially his interior life, his doubts, his questioning of his mission. The way the film is written and performed may remind audiences of Greek tragedy, or of Noah being something like a King Lear. The popular audience will appreciate the first part of the film but might find the second part hard going. A more thoughtful audience will probably appreciate the second part, possibly wanting to forget the first part.


Religious audiences will immediately realise that God is not mentioned at all in the film. Rather, the makers have opted to use the term, The Creator. In fact, this alternative to God, works particularly well, reminiscent of the creation accounts and emphasising The Creator’s intentions in making the world and all living things, including humankind. This leads to what could be called a subtext about creation, the environment, and ecological message. But, throughout the film, it is alluded to so often, and then made explicit, that it becomes something of an instruction about care for the world.

On the other hand, The Creator, according to Noah’s experiences, is The Destroyer.
There is an interesting section of the film when Noah and family begin their Ark journey. Noah recites the key Genesis 1 text of the days of creation and there are visuals to illustrate each of them, a sequence that is very effective.

Noah has an enemy, Tubal-Cain?, who has killed his father and defies Noah, offering another variation on the Genesis theme, when Tubal-Cain? stows away on the Ark. He is given a speech, using the old translations of Genesis 1, about the role of humans to subdue creation. He upholds old values of domination rather than respect for creation and the environment.


A particular difficulty is the variation on the Genesis text about the three sons of Noah taking their wives on board. This time only Shem has a wife, the rescued orphan girl. Noah has become so obsessed by this time that he threatens to kill the child if she is a girl and predicts that, if it is a boy, he will be the last of the humans to die. Ham has gone amongst the people to seek a wife to take on to the Ark, but is thwarted by his father, later resenting him (and giving support to the stowaway, Tubal-Cain). This means that the film raises the question of how the human race is to continue, the same question that is implicit in the story of Cain, Seth and their descendants and how children came to be.

This gives people the opportunity to discuss the Noah and Deluge story, what it meant in the times that the saga was created and handed on by word of mouth and finally written down, to discuss the religious and theological meaning of the Flood story as part of the basic relationship between God and humans.

As regards the film itself, the locations have the look of the prehistoric, pre-apocalyptic (or post-apocalyptic for those fond of the many movies about dystopian societies are wars of destruction) and were filmed in the various terrains of Iceland. They are both interesting and exotic. The film also relies on computergraphics, especially for the animals assembling and going into the Ark, the flights of birds first, then the procession of animals, all computer-generated. Noah’s wife is able to induce hibernation by swirling a kind of incense.

While the film makers actually built an Ark, using the specifications in the book of Genesis, the flood and the sea of waters are also computer-generated. As, of course, are the Watchers, their building of the Ark, their defence against the enemies, the battle sequences and their ascension to the skies, experiencing their own distinctive Rapture.

The sequence in the book of Genesis, chapter 9, where Noah drinks of the wines that have been cultivated and lies naked, drunk, and his sons respectfully move backwards to cover him, is included in this film, but immediately after the waters subside. Noah is still in confusion about his mission his behaviour and becomes drunk, with his sons covering him as described in the Bible.

The production design and the costume designers have opted for quite anachronistic choices, manufactured material, metal buckets and pipes, armour and weapons. And the choice for clothing looks a variation on the modern, a denim and leather look and something of an ancient T-shirt culture.

Russell Crowe gives a very dignified performance as Noah and Jennifer Connelly has dignity, looyalty and patience as his wife. On the other hand, Anthony Hopkins gives only a slight variation on his Welsh-accented genial performance as Methuselah. Ray Winstone, a little more subdued than usual, is a vicious Tubal- Cain. Emma Watson, post-Harry Potter, is the orphan girl. Most of the principal cast are not Americans and it is interesting to note that Jennifer Connelly and Logan Lerman as Ham use a more English accent.

Some audiences may think the film a winds down in the second half concentrating as it does on Noah, his interior life, his questioning of the commission, his relentless understanding of The Creator’s intentions for destroying the world and wanting to remain faithful. This makes him something of a tragic figure, his growing older, less certain, mentally disturbed, crazed even to wanting to destroy his son’s child. He is like a tragedy figure, with a tragic flaw which will destroy him and those around him. As mentioned, it is something like a variation on King Lear.

The film-makers have counted on this being a commercial success. Religious audiences may well be interested, interpreting the story according to their beliefs. Audiences who have little interest in religion may not want to see the film, although they will support its environmental message and may judge Noah as being deluded by voices, a fundamentalist believer that this is God’s reveleation. And with its striking differences between each part, word-of-mouth may well be cautious.

Noah is an entertainment, one might say of biblical proportions. But it is not a film that would be compulsory for students of the Bible.

NO GREATER LOVE

March 30th 2010


The title of this religious film is a familiar phrase from the Gospel of John. Jesus, in his farewell discourse after the Last Supper, uses it to declare that no greater love is shown than when someone lays down their life for a friend. People often use the phrase in relation to martyrdom. But, it can also refer to those who lay down their day-by-day life for friends or in any service of others.

The title of this documentary refers to this kind of love. The Carmelite Sisters of Notting Hill, London, lay down their lives in cloistered community for others.

Michael Whyte, who directed and edited this 105 minute documentary for the cinema, lives in the same square as the nuns. He had requested permission to make a film ten years earlier. The time was judged not right by the nuns but finally they agreed that it was. Michael Whyte filmed for a year or more, given full access to the convent.

There is no controversy with this film. Rather, it is a film which will be of interest to Catholic audiences whether they are familiar with this kind of enclosed life or not. Those who do not share Catholic faith, or even Christian faith, may well be wondering what a contemplative Christian vocation consists of. The film does provide many answers.

This kind of interest was manifest, especially in Western cultures, with the 2006 release of the film, Into Great Silence. That was made by an outsider to Christianity, observing the life of Carthusian monks who live a life of contemplation and silence. However, it was a kind of jigsaw of scenes and sequences, giving an impression of the life rather than any explanation. Catholics would not have learned a great deal about the Carthusian spirituality and its perspectives on God, the person of Jesus and the liturgy which is so important for day by day monastic living. There were some interviews, but the film was a visual portrait of the monks rather than a film offering exploration or insights. It was a film from continental Europe which often prefers a poetic or an abstract, atmospheric portrait rather than tell a linear story.

While No Greater Love is a portrait of the nuns and their way of life, the Anglo-Saxon? way is evident insofar as there is a linear development of plot, a year in the life of the monastery, the interviews providing explorations of spirituality and prayer and offers answers to questions that observers might have: about how the nuns can manage such a way of life, enclosure and silence, about awareness of God, about prayer and separation from the world, about contemporary communications technology and what approach the nuns should have to radio, television, newspapers and the internet.

Because the nuns are Carmelites, it would have been even more interesting to have more explicit reference to the traditions of the order, the nature of Carmelite prayer and contemplation and how the great names in that Carmelite tradition, Teresa of Avila, John of the Cross and Therese of Lisieux contributed to the developing Carmelite spirituality. There could be more presented explicitly on these themes.

Several of the sisters are interviewed during the film, including the superior. They give reasonable accounts of themselves. The personal witness is the witness that has greatest impact. While many may not quite understand or appreciate this way of life, they will find the sisters' reflections of great interest and, even, inspiration.

The Anglo- Saxon practicality is also evident in the selection of day-by-day sequences, from the daily celebration of the Eucharist, with the nuns assisting, especially with communion, and the recitation of the prayerful offices, to the meals, the cleaning of the house, the making of hosts for Masses and their preparation for postage – and lots of work in the garden. There are some recreation sequences where the nuns both chat and sew, and enjoy a laugh, even sometimes a modest dance or jig. The human face of the sisters.

The point is made that contemplative groups in any religion offer a valuable witness to deeper values and some silent reflection in a world that is increasingly louder and 24/7 active – made all the more vivid as the camera rises from the monastery at the end and audiences see that it is located in the middle of suburban London.

THE PASSION OF THE CHRIST

10th November 2003

The Passion of Christ is a considerable cinematic achievement.

BACKGROUND

For over a year before the release of The Passion, scheduled for Ash Wednesday, February 25th 2004, there was worldwide discussion and quite some controversy about the film. This was based on apprehensions about how the film would be made as well as on sensitivities about Jewish- Christian history, anti-Semitism and current dialogue between Judaism and the Churches, especially in the United States. Some of the discussion, held on a high level, especially among theologians, biblical scholars and religious leaders was based on reports of initial drafts of the film.

The Passion of Christ has been a long-cherished project of actor-director, Mel Gibson. Gibson's Catholic affiliation and his support of traditional Catholicism was another controversial factor in the discussions.

Early screenings of The Passion as a work in process offered opportunities for Church leaders and Christians involved in media to see the actual film, offer their opinions and dialogue with Mel Gibson. There seemed to be a general consensus that the film was not anti-Semitic. Some Jewish leaders and reviewers like Michael Medved spoke positively about the film. Several heads of Vatican offices saw a show-reel of the film and spoke in favour of the film, including Archbishop John Foley, head of the Pontifical Council for Social Communications and Cardinal Dario Castrillon of the Congregation for the Clergy who issued a statement urging all priests to see the film. Cardinal Walter Kasper received comments from Jewish leaders and issued a statement that the Vatican at large was not recommending the film and that any recommendation would depend on people seeing the completed film. This was the stance of many religious leaders in the United States including the American Bishops Catholic Conference.

As regards the Jewish-Christian? issues and the explicit language about the Jews in the Gospels, especially that of St John, it is important to realise that the more formal, 'official' antagonism between Christians and Jews emerged in the early decades of the second century. The Gospels of Matthew, Mark and John emerged from Jewish communities. Luke's Gospel draws strongly on the Jewish scriptures interweaving biblical references and motifs throughout the text. The clash between Jesus and the religious leaders of his time was a clash within Judaism, a religious controversy about the Messiah (of which there were a number in this period) and Jesus' claims. Disciples who became Christians accepted his claims. Many religious leaders amongst the priests and the pharisees did not. There were other converts like Paul, who was proud of his Jewish heritage and who took a strong stance about disciples of Jesus not being bound by details of Jewish law. It has been difficult, given the centuries of antagonism and the experience of repression and persecution of Jews by Christian, and Catholic, communities to enter into the context of Jesus' time and the mentality of the period.

The long traditions of Christians accusing Jews of being 'Christ-killers' also played their part in the debate. While the Catholic Church apologised for the long persecutions and the frequent anti-Semitism of the past in a Second Vatican Council document (1965) and Pope John Paul II visited the wailing wall in 2000 and inserted his own prayer in a crevice, questions about Jesus' death as being part of God's plan and how the Jewish religious leaders of the time and the Romans, with Pontius Pilate, fitted into this plan, continue to be raised.

I received an invitation to see the film at the Icon offices in Santa Monica (Mel Gibson's Los Angeles production headquarters) on October 24th, 2003. The version we saw was still a work in progress. More work had to be done on special effects and on the sound track. Mel Gibson met with me briefly after the screening and I was able to have some discussion with him about the film. My attitude towards the film was very positive.

BIBLICAL BACKGROUND

The Passion draws its narrative from each of the four Gospels, for instance, the quake and the rending of the temple from Matthew, the fleeing young man from Mark, the women of Jerusalem (here, Veronica and her daughter) from Luke, the Pilate sequences on truth from John. This linking of incidents in one narrative is the way in which the Gospel stories were remembered and written down. There is some material drawn from the later legendary stories and apocryphal gospels (Veronica and her veil, Desmes the 'bad' thief).

One of the difficulties that films of the life of Jesus encounter, especially from scholars and theologians who are not versed in the techniques and conventions of cinematic storytelling, is that they sometimes tend to be crititiqued and judged as if they were actual Gospels. They are found wanting at this level and dismissed or condemned. This is a danger for The Passion. It needs to be reiterated that this is a film and that the screenplay is a 'version' of the Gospel stories with no claim to be a Gospel.

This use of the four Gospels means that there are different perspectives on the Jews of the time in each Gospel. Matthew's Gospel presupposes detailed knowledge of the Jewish scriptures and sees Jesus as the fulfilment of prophecy. Hence the more 'apocalyptic' scenes at his death. Mark and Luke look on from the outside, Luke writing for readers familiar with Greek and Roman ways of storytelling. John's Gospel from the end of the first century echoes the roots of Christianity in Judaism but acknowledges the growing rift.

The screenplay is able to combine Gospel incidents into a coherent narrative of the passion with selected flashbacks to Jesus' infancy and life at Nazareth (his fall as a child, his making a table in the carpenter's shop, his relationship with his mother and his playful sprinkling her with water as he washes his hands) which are inventions in the spirit of the Gospels, to Mary Magdalene's past where she is combined with the woman taken in adultery of John 8, to Peter and his protests of loyalty, to the Last Supper. There is a flashback to the palm welcome of Jesus to Jerusalem during the heckling of the crowd on the way to Calvary. There is dramatic development of characters like Pilate and his wife, Simon of Cyrene, the centurion, the good thief and the thief who reviles Jesus (with retribution seen in the form of a vicious crow attacking him). Of interest is the portrait of the Satan, the Tempter, who appears early as an androgynous character, visual suggestions of female but male voice, growing more obviously feminine as the film progresses and finally appearing at the crucifixion (with a visual technique reminiscent of William Wallace seeing his loved one at his execution) carrying a child. Once again, this is imaginative license in interpreting Jesus' being tempted and tested.

As with most Jesus' films, much attention is given to Judas. His motivations are not made explicit in the film. It relies on audience knowledge of Judas. The film portrays his action in Gethsemane and subsequent dismay and return of his thirty pieces of silver. It introduces a theme of children meeting Judas and taunting him as he goes to his death.

THEOLOGICAL BACKGROUND

The principal theological issues that concern viewers of Jesus-films are:
1. The humanity and divinity of Jesus,
2. The resurrection of Jesus

The humanity and divinity of Jesus.

The Passion of Christ generally follows the approach to the person of Jesus used by the Synoptic Gospels, a 'low' Christology, a focus first on the humanity of Jesus and moving towards an awareness of his divinity. When the film uses John as a source, it reflects that Gospel's 'high' Christology, the presupposition in the narrative that Jesus is divine and expresses this divinity in word and action. The Synoptic approach is seen in the flashbacks of incidents before the Passion as well as in the main events of the Passion, the Agony in Gethsemane, the treatment of Jesus by the Sanhedrin and Herod, the scourging and crowning with thorns, the way of the Cross and the Crucifixion itself. The Joannine approach is found in Jesus' declaration of his being the Son of Man at his trial (which is also in the Synoptics) and the discussions with Pilate about truth and about his kingdom.

This means that, theologically, the film presents the perennial teaching that Jesus, in his person, was both human and divine in nature.

The humanity of Jesus is often presented in a striking manner: Jesus working in Nazareth, the experience of deep human pain in his agony, scourging, falling on the way to Calvary, the nailing and his experience on the cross. It is there in his dignity at his trial, his composure with Pilate and Herod. The film also highlights Jesus' human anguish of soul and sense of abandonment in his agony and on the cross, along with his profound surrender to the Father.

While the Jesus of cinema is usually slight and slender in build, Jim Caviezel is a big and strong man, with some girth, a credible carpenter and a solid man. This makes the film's Jesus more real than usual.

The Resurrection

Some commentators criticise a film which focuses on the Passion for its meagre treatment of Jesus' resurrection. (This was a criticism in the 1960s and 1970s of Jesus Christ Superstar.) Theologically, the Passion makes sense only in the light of the resurrection.

While Mel Gibson's film wants to immerse its audience in the experience of the Passion, the final sequence has the stone rolled over the tomb. The stone is rolled away, the cloths wound around Jesus' body are seen collapsing and the camera tracks to Jesus in profile, sitting in the tomb as a prelude to his risen life. These are the images with which the audience leaves the theatre. The resurrection, presented briefly, is still the climax of the Passion.

The Eucharist

There are flashbacks to the Last Supper during the Passion, especially to Peter protesting that he would not deny Jesus and to Jesus washing the disciples' feet.

One of the major theological strengths of the film is the insertion of the Eucharistic scenes of the Last Supper during the nailing and the lifting up of Jesus on the cross. As Jesus offers the bread as his body, we see the body which is painfully broken and given for us. As he offers the wine as his blood, we are only too conscious of the bloodletting, blood poured out for us. Jesus tells his disciples that there is no greater love than laying down one's life for friends - and we see it in its fulness. He tells them to celebrate the Eucharist so that his passion and death will be present to them.

In this way, the screenplay highlights both aspects of the Eucharist, the celebration of the meal, the communion and the sacrifice of Jesus.

Mary

Mary has a strong presence in The Passion. She appears as a woman in her 40s, striking rather than beautiful. She appears in two flashbacks. Her demeanour is serious. She says very little. With Mary Magdalene and John, she follows the passion and the way of the Cross without any of the histrionics that characterise a number of portraits of Mary, especially Pasolini's mother in The Gospel According to Matthew. At one stage, she wipes the blood of Jesus on the praetorium floor after his scourging. She kisses his bloody nailed feet. The bond between mother and son is suggested several times by significant eye contact rather than words. The request for John to take care of Mary is included. After Jesus is taken down from the cross, she holds him in a Pieta tableau.

Most audiences should be satisfied with the portrayal of Mary. Those who find some of the cinema representations of the past too much like holy cards or plaster statues will appreciate a more biblically-grounded Mary.

Cinema background

The Passion of Christ comes after more than a century's old tradition of Jesus' films. The silent era produced short instructional films as well as features like From the Manger to the Cross, the Italian Christus and the Gospel section of D.W.Griffith's Intolerance. The major films of the 20s were Ben Hur and The King of Kings, Cecil B. de Mille's epic.

For thirty-five years, 1927-1961, Jesus was not seen face-on as a character in American studio Gospel films. He was seen in a number of features made by American Protestant companies. He was glimpsed in part (a hand, an arm, his legs on the cross or was seen from a distance) in films as The Robe and Ben Hur in the 1950s.

After the gap, Jeffrey Hunter appeared as the King of Kings, Max Von Sydow in The Greatest Story Ever Told. When Jeffrey Hunter spoke in King of Kings, it was the first time audiences had heard an actor speak the words of Jesus. Pasolini made a powerful black and white version in the 1960s, The Gospel According to Matthew, and Rosselini made The Messiah in the early 1970s. Brian Deacon appeared as Jesus, a more evangelical approach in the film, Jesus (which was distributed in an edited version to pilgrims visiting Rome for the millennial Jubilee). This trend reached its peak with Zeffirelli's Jesus of Nazareth in the late 1970s.

Popular musical movements of the late 60s produced Jesus Christ Superstar and Godspell which were both filmed in 1973.

Most of the films aimed at presenting a 'realistic' Jesus but many of them (including Pasolini) used the straight Gospel texts (which were intended to be read) as a substantial part of their screenplays, an over-literal use of the Gospels. Zeffirelli, on the other hand, employed the same method as was used in the forming of the Gospels, taking incidents in Jesus' life and combining them dramatically to make an impact on the audience. Nevertheless, with the use of western actors, European or American locations, these films were not as realistic as intended.

The musicals highlighted how screen Gospel storytelling is more 'stylised' than 'realistic'.

Since 1988, there have been a number of screen portrayals of Jesus: The Last Temptation of Christ (1988), which was a 'novelised' version of the Gospels, Jesus of Montreal (1988) and Man Dancin' (2003) which were stories of putting on a passion play in a modern city, the animated Jesus in The Miracle Maker (2000) and Jeremy Sisto's engaging blend of the human and divine in the American telemovie, Jesus (1999). More recently, there has been the rather American picture of Jesus in Paulist Film Production's telemovie, Jesus (2001, due for screening in 2004) and a more traditional Jesus in Philip Saville's The Gospel of John.

It is in this tradition that The Passion comes to the screen. Mel Gibson had indicated his skills in directing with Man Without a Face (1993) and his Oscar-winning, Braveheart (1995).

One of the principal intentions of the director and his co-screenwriter, Ben Fitzgerald, is to immerse audiences in the realism of the passion of Jesus. Actor Jim Caviezel was chosen to play Jesus (the only other name performer is Italy's Monica Bellucci as Mary Magdalene). Caviezel was the same age as Jesus when the film was shot. As mentioned earlier, he is a believable human Jesus, a big, solid workingman who was able to stand up to the terrible sufferings of the passion before he died.

One of the controversial aspects of the film was the early decision to have the film's dialogue in Aramaic and Latin but to have no subtitles. The language decision was followed through and works well. We needed the subtitles, many of which are quotations from scripture. There is no distraction in hearing anachronistic American or British voices and accents. Rather the audience hears what conversation was like in those days. It is helpful to be reminded that Jesus spoke Aramaic and not English!

A useful distinction to be made is that between 'realism' and 'naturalism'. The latter refers to film-making that portrays action as it is, home movies being a popular example, as is footage shot for newscasts. 'Realism' is film-making that helps audience have a genuine feel for what is going on on the screen, as if it were real. A number of cinematic devices, such as the style of different compositions for the screen, the types of shots and the pace of the editing can be used to give this impression of realism.

Mel Gibson has opted for much of his film to be 'naturalistic'. He has plenty of time available and is in no hurry to take us away from the picture of Jesus' suffering. Perhaps a number of people in the audience will find the scourging (in two grim parts) too much to watch. With most of the characters being portrayed in a naturalistic way, the action seems authentic. However, Gibson is able to use cinematic devices which alter perceptions, helping us to realise that we are seeing a particular version of the Passion, as all of us do when we listen to the Passion narratives and use our imaginations. He frequently uses moments of slow-motion filming to make us dwell on a particular moment.

This naturalism is seen in the confrontation in Gethsemane, at Jesus' trial, with the scourging and the crowning with thorns and, especially, the way of the cross as Jesus struggles with the cross, falls with thudding impact, is nailed and the cross raised. The stylisation is seen in the close-ups, with the differences in lighting (Gethsemane blue, the confined space of the High Priest's court lamplit, the broad daylight of the way of the cross), the framing of the characters with memories of the traditions of Christian painting, the lighting and some of the tableaux, the passing of time as Jesus hangs on the cross, his death and the apocalyptic aftermath, the intimations of the resurrection.

This offers a credible picture and understanding of Jesus. Gibson has introduced some effective elements to reinforce this. For instance, in the garden, Jesus is hit in the eye and from then on and during the trial, he has the use only of one eye; when he is able to open his injured eye, Gibson makes a great deal of his ability with eye-contact, with Pilate, with his mother and with John at the foot of the cross, simply looking at Jesus and nodding as he agrees to care for Mary.

Comment has already been made on the use and insertion of flashbacks.

Dramatically, familiar Gospel characters are briefly developed which helps the narrative: Peter, Judas, Pilate, Pilate's wife, Simon of Cyrene, Herod, the two thieves crucified with Jesus. Veronica is introduced as she watches Jesus pass and wipes his face with her cloth - but Gibson shows restraint by letting us see her holding the cloth and, if we look closely, suggestions of the outline of Jesus' face can be glimpsed. The Roman soldiers are also vividly dramatised: the brutes at the scourging with their sadistic commander, the drunken soldiery mocking and brutalising Jesus along the way and on Calvary, the more sympathetic centurion. The key figure who has powerful dramatic impact in every Jesus' film is Judas. The taunting of the tormented Judas and the children pursuing him to his death is dramatically effective.

The Passion of Christ offers a credible, naturalistic Jesus whose sufferings of body and spirit are real. What impact it will have on those who are not believers is very difficult to predict. For those who believe, there is the challenge of seeing pain and torture which are easier to read about than to see, but there is also the satisfaction of experiencing familiar Gospel stories in a different way.

THE PASSION OF THE CHRIST - RECUT

March 23rd 2005

Mel Gibson has responded to comments during 2004 that The Passion of the Christ was too brutal and bloodthirsty for some audiences and many potential viewers decided that the reports of the visual violence influenced their decision not to see the film. He has recut the film so that it is now six minutes shorter. More accurately, he has ‘trimmed’ his film with the hope that it will find the audience who did not see it originally and that it will receive a lower age classification this time, making it accessible to younger audiences. In fact, the British Board of Censors which gave the film an 18+ rating in 2004 has given the recut version a 15+ certificate (whereas this was the classification given to the original version in Ireland).

The release and marketing of The Passion Recut was left until the end of Lent (in Britain, Good Friday) whereas Christian audiences would have considered going to see during Lent. From Easter Sunday, the liturgical and spirituality mood of the churches is that of the Resurrection rather than the Passion.

In fact, the recut version seems very little different from the original cut. The alternate images of Mary during the scourging and the lessening of the loud impact of the whips means that this sequence, though still very strong, does not seem quite so much ‘over the top’. The way of the cross seems unchanged – except for a lessening of the impact of the crow’s attack on the unrepentant thief.

The comments offered on The Passion of the Christ in the SIGNIS statement of November 2003 on its biblical basis and its theology still pertain to the recut.

Reviewing The Passion Recut

One of the interesting features of re-viewing the film a year and more after the initial controversy is that the film seems stronger. Sensitive to the criticisms that the film was anti-Semitic, many thought that the appearances, especially of Annas and some of the Sanhedrin, seemed like caricature villains. This does not seem to be the case this time. Trying to hear whether the ‘blood curse’ of Matthew’s Gospel was spoken by the leaders and the crowd, we hear only a murmur, no distinct words.

It is surprising to read the passion account in Matthew’s Gospel and note how much detail of the screenplay is taken from that text. Dramatically, many sequences are just as effective: Peter and his protestations, his drawing of his sword, his denials in the jostle of the courtyard and his weeping and confession to Mary; the significance of Judas, his going to the authorities, Gethsemane, his bewilderment in the courtyard, his torment by the children and the rotting corpse of the donkey as he hanged himself; the support of Simon of Cyrene who is taunted as being a Jew.

Jim Caviezel’s screen presence is strong, a well-built man who could endure so much suffering. His quiet gentleness, smiles and humour in the flashbacks are a welcome counterbalance to the suffering. Maya Morgenstern’s performance and presence as Mary made a great impact originally and retain their power, both her strength in grief and the moment when she weeps.

Practically everyone who saw The Passion in 2004 felt compelled to mention the scourging and its brutality whether they admired the film or not. In retrospect, it seems somewhat strange that so much comment was made on what people saw in those nine minutes and comparatively little on the flashbacks which were so well placed to give a wider perspective on Jesus’ personality as well as his ministry and which, in dramatic terms, relieved the intensity of the torment.

The comments of 2004 in retrospect

What may be of interest, however, is a report on some information gathered by SIGNIS during 2004 on responses to the film from around the world. This includes comments on how the film was released, criticisms made at the time and reflections on the kinds of spirituality that favoured the film and that were hostile to the film.

Differing responses in different places

The Passion of the Christ was made principally for American audiences and, by extension, for English-language audiences. However, since the film was spoken in Aramaic and Latin, it lent itself for sub-titling everywhere.

Asia

The film was screened in many Asian countries. As might be expected, it was very popular in the Philippines, the Catholic country of Asia, a country with a Hispanic religious tradition which has followed the devotional aspects of Catholicism with great emotion, even passion. In some areas, there are vividly physical re-enactments of Christ’s passion. This audience has very little difficulty in responding straightforwardly to the strong presentation of Jesus’ suffering.

However, The Passion was successful in unexpected areas. It broke box-office records in Dubai where the population is 85% expatriate, many from the Philippines but also from Sri Lanka, India and Pakistan. Lebanon was another country where it drew large audiences.

In Hong Kong, where the Catholic Audiovisual Office, prepared the Chinese sub-titles, it was showing on 27 screens during Easter weekend, 2004. The distributors limited the screenings in Bangkok to six (with the Catholic office again preparing the sub-titles) but they were immediately booked out and so another four performances (with discussion following) were permitted.

The situation was different in neighbouring Malaysia where the religious and legal climate did not permit public screenings. Audiences watched the film on pirated copies – pirating is something of an industry in this part of the world.

Issues of anti-Semitism are not prevalent in most countries of Asia.

Africa

It is more difficult to get information about The Passion in Africa. While South Africa has American-like distribution and exhibition, especially in city complexes, other countries do not have such movie outlets and rely on cassettes and a growing popularity of DVD.

The Pacific

Australia, New Zealand and Fiji are part of worldwide cinema complex trends. The Passion had wide and multiplex release with reviews for and against, as exemplified by both viewpoints being published in Sydney’s Catholic Weekly. The film received strong public support from Cardinal Pell of Sydney. However, the debate about Mel Gibson’s anti-Semitism was strong, Jewish reviewers feeling that the film was indeed anti-Semitic. However, The Passion was number one at the Australian box-office for two weeks in succession, echoing the patterns of the American release.

Latin America

The film, as might be expected, was very popular in Latin America. It was very strong in Brazil with its population near to that of the United States. Once again, the Hispanic and Iberian religious traditions and sensibility mean that audiences are immediately ‘on the wavelength’ of this kind of film. The violent sequences do not seem out of place as they do in more reserved European cultures. Rather, audiences identify with the experiences of Jesus and his suffering. It was said in the 1970s that South America was the region where Zeffirelli’s Jesus of Nazareth was most popular. Many Church leaders were supportive of the film.

Europe

Europe was the region of the world where there was the greatest diversity in response to The Passion.

It was well received in Eastern European countries, especially Poland. Perhaps it was a heritage of religious persecution in the 20th century which meant that audiences were identifying more with the sufferings of Jesus.

Opinion differed in Western European countries. Italy, Spain and Portugal saw strong audiences. However, in France, there was a mood of hostility towards the film: American, religious, violent. In Germany and Benelux, the violence was considered far too much for its audiences and the film was disliked by critics and some religious leaders, although many popular audiences went to see it. It was more successful in Ireland and, despite generally hostile criticism in Britain, The Passion was top of the box office chart for two weeks. Release was spread out through Europe, earlier in Lent in Italy, capitalising on fervour, later in Lent in Britain where it caught religious interest as Holy Week approached. A sign of the differing sensibilities is the classification in Ireland for 15 and over whereas in Britain The Passion was restricted to 18 and over. The Passion Recut has received a 15 and over certificate.

Different Christian groups in Europe contributed to an appreciation of the film from a religious standpoint. A German Protestant group prepared a book of reviews reflecting the wide range of opinion. In England, a group prepared a booklet of questions and answers about the film and about the Gospels. It was distributed at many of the cinemas screening The Passion.

North America

Nobody expected The Passion of the Christ to have the box-office success that it did.

In the United States alone, it made almost $400,000,000 in cinemas (a little below such blockbusters as Lord of the Rings: The Return of the King). In the first few days of its VHS and DVD release in August 2004, it sold at least 9,000,000 copies. Christian groups hired cinemas for special screenings as well as making block bookings.

During 2003 when there were test screenings, especially for church leaders, the focus of controversy was the potential for anti-Semitism. Many American Jewish leaders spoke out strongly on the issue, critical of the film and of Gibson himself. However, other Jewish leaders pointed out anti-Semitism is the deliberate and malicious maligning of Jewish people. This was not Gibson’s intention. However, given the 20th century history of persecution and the reality of the Holocaust, it was thought that Gibson showed himself somewhat insensitive to Jewish feeling. Gibson tried to explain that he was not anti-Semitic. He gave a thirty minute interview (as did Jim Caviezel) to Raymond Arroyo of the US Eternal Word Network while the film was in production which is a useful source for gauging his intentions before the onrush of criticism.

(In March 2005, I was invited to do a series of interviews on The Passion Recut for BBC regional radio (sitting in a London studio for two hours with 12 successive interviews every ten minutes). Only one of the interviewers raised the issue of anti-Semitism.)

One of the other features of the debate was the reviewing of Mel Gibson’s religious stances and those of his father, Hatton Gibson, and the implication that these pervaded the film: anti-Semitism, staunch conservatism, anti-Vaticanism. Britain’s Channel 4 screened an hour-long documentary on the Sunday night of the opening weekend. It discussed Gibson’s stances and showed scenes (rather alarming) of his father’s outspokenness (for example, referring to John Paul II as the Koran-quoting pope). While Gibson comes from this background and the documentary contains some of his snide remarks about the contemporary church, his film is quite mainstream.

Some religious leaders endorsed the film, especially for Lent. For instance, the bishop of Wilmington, Delaware, issued a pastoral letter for Lent on the religious meaning of movies, exploring the themes of The Passion and Lord of the Rings: The Return of the King and suggesting ways in which parishes and schools might discuss these films.

The reviews in the United States were very mixed. There are 170 listings for reviews from around the world in the IMDb file for external reviews of The Passion. Two very differing reviews, those of Roger Ebert from Chicago (thoughtfully in favour) and James Carroll of the Boston Globe (highly emotional and aggressive) illustrate the two poles. For many critics, the artistic commentary is important, the links with horror films, comparisons with Braveheart, censorship for violence; but it is usually not considered in the light of intrinsic links between theme and presentation. British critics were much more hostile to the film, generally disliking what they see as heart on sleeve emotionalism in many American films, whether it be sentimentality or violence: ‘foolish and shallow film’, ‘obscenely extended violence’, ‘no spirituality whatever’.

Perceptions

The issue of the violence of the film and the brutality depicted has caused a great deal of media debate and prevented a number of people seeing the film, fearing they would not be able to watch and bear the violence. Had the film been about any other person but Jesus, would the film have been made like this and allowed to be shown?

The sight of blood has varying effects on different people. There are some robust sensibilities which are not so disturbed by it. Blood has been part of their history. There are other sensibilities which are more fastidious about the sight of blood. This seems to be the case in Western Europe where there has been a tradition for some decades to enforce tighter controls on depictions of violence (in contrast with a more liberal attitude towards the depiction of sexual behaviour). Mel Gibson’s career came into focus in this regard, his action shows, the Lethal Weapon series and others, as well as his depiction of the battles and death of William Wallace as Braveheart. He was considered as too bloodthirsty. Some reviewers referred to his ‘zealot’s rapture’ for the Passion and as indulging in sado-masochism.

This is what many saw: because they felt that the violence was over the top, it seems to have prevented them from seeing so much more that was in the film.

The caption at the opening of the film is a quotation from Isaiah 53, the suffering servant of Yahweh. The servant songs of the book of Isaiah are the peak of redemptive theology in the Jewish scriptures: the innocent servant who is prepared to be the innocent lamb led to the slaughter bearing the sins of others, vicarious suffering. Vicarious suffering has always been acknowledged and admired as complete self-sacrifice. The Jerusalem Bible translation includes the phrase to describe the impact of the suffering servant on those who witnessed his suffering: ‘they were appalled on seeing him’.

Appalled is the biblical word and that is what Gibson wanted in his audience. Jesus’ suffering and death is shocking. Perhaps too long an easy spirituality and sanitised art has prevented us from being appalled.

This highlights how the response to the film reflected the religious experience of the viewers.

What was surprising in 2004 was not only how many people who normally don’t go to see a film actually went to a cinema (and later bought the cassette or DVD) and were able to sit through the film, especially the older audiences and members of religious orders. They seem to have been appalled in the best sense. After years of contemplation of the sufferings of Jesus, using the decades of the Rosary, the Stations of the Cross and other devotions, they found that the film corresponded to their prayer. Focussing less on the idea of suffering (which is what theologians professionally have to do), they were attentive (in the way that Ignatius Loyola advocated in his Spiritual Exercises) to immersing themselves in the experience of Jesus. There was a meeting of what was on screen with experience that clicked.

This is very difficult to explain to someone who has not experienced it – although, if we were to speak about our favourite films and why they mean so much to us, the conversation would probably parallel the way these audiences spoke about watching The Passion.

Because of the rediscovery of a spirituality of the Resurrection in recent decades, many spiritual writers and spiritual directors have felt that many people have not developed this aspect of spirituality, that they are stuck in the Passion. There must always be the challenge of the Resurrection for spiritual growth, but it sounded during discussions in 2004 and seemed reflected in much religious writing that those who have had the benefit of a deeper education in biblical theology took a superior and sometimes intolerant stance over those who were less religiously sophisticated and who relied on a very personal faith, whatever its limitations. Some of the articles and comments sounded elitist – that this Passion spirituality was for the less spiritually developed. Some of the comments also sounded intolerant: that their more comprehensive spirituality was what people should follow, that they should not have a Passion of the Christ spirituality.

Listening to callers on phone-in radio, one realised that it was a wide range of people who were responding well to the film. One educator made the point that, with the emphasis on the gentle humanity of Jesus in recent decades to counterbalance a sometimes exclusive emphasis on his divinity, younger people were looking for a more transcendent Jesus and that Mel Gibson’s insight was to portray this transcendence in someone who was clearly both divine and human. This appreciation, according to popular hearsay, led some audiences to re-think their faith stance and some to ‘conversion’.

This was especially true in the more Evangelical church congregations who combined the film with their Good Friday ceremonies in both 2004 and, with their DVD copy, in 2005.

For some non-Christians – and I rely on a Bangladeshi Muslim friend who attested to this – the impact of the film was to help them realise for the first time the reality of what Jesus suffered. Critics referred to the visceral experience – and this is what made the impact on my friend. He had never realised the reality of the suffering of Jesus before.

Some of the religious writing on the film would repay re-reading and re-assessment.

For many who do not have Christian faith and, especially, those who have lost it or who resent it, the comments on the film were bitter. Once again, looking through user comments and reviews on the IMDb site, one finds outpourings of hatred of Christianity, of particular churches, especially of the Catholic church. It is a sobering reminder that the community that Jesus established has not lived up to what he taught and what he did.

Whether The Passion Recut will have the hoped for results at the box office with those who intimidated the first time round going to see it remains to be seen. However, watching it again a year after the controversy gave an opportunity to bypass the arguments and see the film more on its own terms.

SIGNIS STATEMENT

March 24th, 2018


PAUL, APOSTLE OF CHRIST

US, 2018, 107 minutes, Colour.
James Faulkner, Jim Caviezel, Olivier Martinez, John Lynch, Joanne Whalley.
Directed by Andrew Hyatt.

This biblical film was released in the same month as Garth Davis’ Mary Magdalene with Rooney Mara as Mary and Joaquin Phoenix has Jesus.

Mary Magdalene was produced by a production company that was not overtly religious. Paul, Apostle of Christ, by contrast was produced by a company for faith-based films, Affirm. The screenplay, which has strong elements of realism in its presentation of Rome, is also quite devout in its presentation of its central characters in the early Christian community, their way of speaking, their faith, their outreach to the persecuted, their mutual support. Many audiences may find this too devout for their taste

THE FILM

This story of Paul has been made for specifically Christian audiences, the whole range of denominations. Its appeal to non-Christian audiences will be in its depiction of ancient Rome in the mid-60s, the aftermath of the fire, the rule of Nero, his persecution of Christians, their being burned as human torches in the Roman streets, their being sent into the arena to be killed by wild beasts. In this, the film is successful, providing a rather vivid picture of the times, Roman rule and oppression, the small Christian community, persecutions.

The Christian audience will also be interested in this depiction of Paul in his later years, a prisoner in the Mammertine prison, oppressed in his cell and flogged, given some reprieve at the end, though finally, with great dignity and decorum, beheaded. The other central character of the film is a Luke, having written his gospel, visiting Rome to see his friend, Paul, and to continue writing of Paul’s mission, ultimately, The Acts of the Apostles.

As a biblical film for a faith audience, there is much to commend in its depiction of the times – and it does incorporate into the screenplay a number of gospel texts and, especially, quotations from Paul and his epistles - with the interlude in the prison writing and listening to Paul’s memoirs and dictation.

A classification caution – very early in the film there are scenes of the Christians being mounted on poles in the Roman streets and being set alight and burning. Later, more by suggestion than actual scenes, the martyrdoms in the amphitheatres have gruesome overtones. Which means that the film, which might have been helpful for children and learning more about Paul and Christian history, has a more serious adult rating.

(There have been some television films featuring Paul, especially the 1980 Peter and Paul with Anthony Hopkins as Paul and Robert Foxworth as Peter.)


SOME COMMENTARY ON THE FILM AND ITS THEMES.

• The film presupposes a great deal about the life of Jesus, his gospel message, as well as the mission of the early apostles and disciples – though there are some scenes of Paul as Saul, persecuting the Christians, especially a re-enactment of Stephen’s martyrdom, with Paul’s subsequent conversion, his retiring to Arabia for several years to absorb the gospel message.

• The film also presupposes some knowledge of Paul and his mission, his journeys, the various communities which received his letters, their message and their tone.

• Two of the central characters in Rome, featured strongly during the film, are the tentmakers Aquila and Priscilla, the tentmakers from Ephesus who are referred to in Acts, 18 with whom Paul worked and lived, and who began to preach, then journeying with Paul. (There are explicit greetings to them in Romans 16, one Corinthians 16, 2 Timothy 4.) A reading of this chapter of Acts and the chapters around it would provide helpful background to appreciating the film, its characters, conversions and persecutions.

• Paul is presented as something of an elder statesman. James Faulkner’s portrayal of him as an old man is of a very dignified, serious disciple of Christ, reflecting on his mission, reflecting on his death, welcoming Luke, conversing with him. In some ways the performance presents Paul more as an icon, quoting the Scriptures and his letters, rather than as a developed character. It is up to the audience to supply, from their knowledge of Paul, the strengths, emotions, of his character.

• The film ends with a lengthy quotation from 2 Timothy (which scholars say was not written by Paul himself but is used as part of the screenplay, the summing up of Paul’s perspective on his life and mission, as written by him).

• While there is some mention of Peter and other disciples, these references are minimal, perhaps surprising because of the possibilities of Peter’s presence in Rome at this period.

• With audience aware of his playing Jesus in Mel Gibson’s The Passion of the Christ, Jim, Caviezel (with American intonation is in contrast with James Faulkner, British, Joanna Whaley as Priscilla, British, John Lynch as Aquila, Irish, Olivier Martinez as Mauritius, French- accented English and a selection of European actors) is a centre of audience attention. He portrays Luke with some dignity, seeming sinister at first sight because he is hooded and trying to avoid the Roman authorities. He makes contact with the early Christian community, witnesses their way of life, makes contact with Paul, converses seriously with him.

• Luke features with a fictitious character, Mauritius, played by Olivier Martinez. He is a Roman soldier, in charge of the prison, very loyal to the Emperor, initially seen as firm on rules and regulations. However, the wife whom he loves is very concerned at home about the serious illness of their daughter. Finally, Mauritius will appeal to Luke who has been functioning also as a doctor amongst the community, to come to his daughter, diagnose what is wrong with her, heal her. Which Luke does, Mauritius then is able to give some leeway to Luke, Paul and some freedom to walk in the gardens, and to the Christians.

• The presentation of the Roman soldiers is mixed, some inhumane and authoritarian, some with the more human touch and sympathy, enabling Luke at times to move around more freely, though there is always the possibility of betrayal and enunciation to the authorities.

• With the burning of Rome and the persecutions, the small Christian community is rather close-knit, some migrants from Asia settling in Rome, like Aquila and Priscilla, others local converts – especially a young man who volunteers to communicate outside the Christian community but is set upon violently and killed.

• The film raises the dilemma for the Christians as to whether they should stay in Rome (again no reference to Peter and his leadership). Aquila and others are keen to move back to Asia. Priscilla states that she has come to love Rome and the Romans and feels that she should stay, especially with the persecutions and the deaths.

• There are some rebels, like the zealots of the gospel, who want to rise up against the Romans and overthrow them – especially, a young character, a Roman, called Cassius. However, they are defeated by the soldiers.

• Many of the Christians are rounded up and imprisoned, threatened with death in the arena, men, women and children. However, they are reminded that their horrible torture
and deaths will last only a few moments and then they will be free and with Christ. They are shown going into the arena in this spirit.

• In older decades, a lot of religious instruction was done through catechisms and, especially for some Catholic schools, Bible History stories as well as those of the early church, text and drawings for the students to imagine and memorise their Bible History. In some ways, this version of Paul, Luke, the early Christians and Rome is a cinema equivalent of this kind of Bible History instruction.

THE OMEN

6-6-06

It is the 6th of the 6th 06 – and, in fact, the screening of The Omen this afternoon finished at 6.06 pm – so it seems a suitable moment for a statement on the film.

A preliminary observation. It has been amazing and irritating that in recent weeks we have been approached by newspapers and radio programs not so much about the film but about seemingly trivial matters. It was not for clarification of issues or the position of the Church. Rather, journalists were asking about women who allegedly don’t want to give birth on the 6th of June because of what they have heard about the number of the devil, 666. And they don’t want to call their sons Damien because that is the name of the devil.

People who declare that they are not religious, who are sceptical about the teachings of Christianity suddenly give credence to superstitions from who knows where or seemingly religious gossip. As regards the name Damien for the devil, that was invented by writer David Seltzer in the 1970s for the screenplay of the original Omen. Nothing to do with the Bible. And there are all kinds of discussion about the symbolism of 666 (not a date, let alone a date in our times) for the early Church and the Roman Empire.

So, in the immediate wake of The Da Vinci Code comes the remake of the 1976 film, The Omen. This present version is more respectful of the Church than Code’s blatant criticisms and implications, even if it opens with a bizarre-looking cleric at the Vatican observatory noting strange comets in the skies (echoes of stars over Bethlehem). The cleric hurries to inform a cardinal in Rome. The cardinal then explains recent events (Sept 11th, wars in the Middle East, hurricanes) to the Pope and the Curia along ultra-literal lines of interpretation of selected texts from the Apocalypse. (Actually, some very evangelical groups, especially in the US might not think them so far-fetched). One cannot imagine Benedict XVI listening to this kind of biblical hokum!

As regards the official church, there is nothing more, except a dying scene for the Pope where the Cardinal rushes to kneel by his bedside, presumably to tell him the bad news that Damien lives. And the Pope dies. There are two demented priests who have been caught up in the birth of the antichrist and have participated in having the baby adopted by an American diplomat who is the godson of the American president. Those who know the two Omen sequels are aware how significant this is for Damien’s easy entrée into world politics and business. (The riff given to the beast arising from the eternal sea is that this is not meant to be taken literally – while everything else is – and means the turmoil of the sea of politics).

Novelists and screenwriters as we realise, particularly at this Da Vinci hypothesis and conspiracy time, invent scenarios that rely on a medley of historical facts, legends and religious images. They are fascinated by apocalyptic texts, sometimes inventing them as in Omen 3, and eager to apply them to the present. They can be imaginative ‘what ifs…?’. The Omen is clearly one of these scenarios.

However. While non-Christians and non-believers can watch The Omen or dismiss it as a piece of imaginative nonsense, it is not so easy for believers to dismiss it.

One of the intriguing features of both Roman Polanski’s Rosemary’s Baby (1968), the first of the incarnation of evil films, and Richard Donner’s The Omen (1976) is that they postulate the incarnation of the devil. This came as something of a shock to us in the 1960s. We had not quite imagined this scenario. But it made Catholics reflect that, if the incarnation of God was possible, then so was the incarnation of evil. With the cultural and religious questioning of the 1960s, especially with Time Magazine’s take on the movements and opinions of say, Bishop John Robinson in the UK, ‘Honest to God’ and Paul Tillich and others suggesting in the US that there should be a moratorium on the word, ‘God’, with alternates like ‘Ground of our being’, the question was ‘Is God Dead?’. This was the black-baground, red-letter cover of Time at Easter 1966 (which Polanski actually used in his film, the magazine that Rosemary read in the doctor’s waiting room). In the early 1970s came possession films, The Exorcist (1973) and its sequel and many derivatives. Audiences were invited to raise issues of the devil, incarnation and possession, that both fascinated and frightened people.

Is it the same today? Are we so apprehensive now with terrorist attacks, wars, earthquakes and tsunamis that we wonder about God’s presence and the presence of evil, of the demonic? Does the modern fascination with religious conspiracies add its influence? Has western culture lost its knowledge of Christian roots, symbols, images and teaching that audiences are prone to believe anything without checking it critically? These are questions that the Church today has to come to grips with.

In the meantime, The Omen itself?

David Seltzer has again written the screenplay, putting the events in a 21st century context. He has also made the parents of Damien (Liev Schreiber and Julia Styles) much younger than Gregory Peck and Lee Remick. Otherwise, it is very close to the original, relying on atmosphere and eerie suspense rather than horror (although the three upsetting deaths from 1976 are repeated in the same upsetting way here and the menacing dogs are present again). A footnote of interest is that the nanny this time is a fey Mia Farrow, looking surprisingly like Rosemary of 1968 rather than her sixty years. David Thewliss is the photographer and Pete Postlethwaite has melodramatic moments as the disturbing priest, Fr Brennan.

Dramatically and thematically, the film is quite pessimistic. It looks as though evil triumphs. After destroying his family and others who helped them, Damien survives and, as in the original, he stands at the graveside of his father, hand in hand with the president, turns to the audience with his perpetual malevolent expression – and then smiles. Obviously, it is all open to a sequel. For believers, fortunately, the sequel is optimistic, a sequel of grace.

For those who don’t know the original, The Omen may come as a surprise. For those who appreciated the original, the surprise element is long gone, so it is a matter of looking at the plot and questions more closely.

The Omen is a reminder to those who believe in God that there is evil in our world, that it is malicious and destructive. It is alarming to see it embodied in a five year old child who appears more and more sinister and ruthless. A diabolical passive-aggressive.

ORANGES AND SUNSHINE

April 30th 2011

Oranges and continual sunshine were part of the enticing of young children to go to Australia from the United Kingdom from the 1940s to 1970. These children were orphans, children of unmarried mothers who had to give up their babies to save family shame, children of poor families who could not manage. There were thousands of them. The language used in this film is ‘deportation to Australia’. Once in Australia, they were taken to institutions, governmental and religious, treated harshly, in many cases abused, and grew up with little education and not knowing anything about their families.

The issues came up, especially in the 1980s, when so many of the children were young adults and feeling a deep need to know something about their parents and to contact them or relatives.

Margaret Humphreys, a social worker in Nottingham, was approached by a young woman to make a search. Margaret was given time for two years to follow through with investigations which took her often to Australia, at some sacrifice for her devoted husband and children, and at some cost to her own health. However, she persevered, set up a trust, approached governments, received more requests from the children than she anticipated. Governments were reluctant to investigate and charitable organisations and religious groups and orders found that scandalous behaviour on the part of their members was being revealed.

The British and Australian governments issued official apologies in November 2009, almost a quarter of a century after Margaret Humphreys began her investigations. She herself received a CBE in 2011.

The film, Oranges and Sunshine, is based on her book and official documents on cases.

As a film, Oranges and Sunshine is both moving and disturbing. Emily Watson embodies Margaret Humphreys, a local social worker who is asked to do more in life than she ever anticipated. Once involved, she cannot let go and experiences the pain of the children, their emotional neediness as well as verbal and physical abuse from those who resent the criticism as well as impediments from governments. Emily Watson plays her with a combination of British stiff upper lip and quavering heart rather than an out-there crusader. Richard Dillane gives solid support as her husband who gave her solid support in her work.

Several of the adults dramatise their memories of the past. Hugo Weaving, in a quietly moving and convincing performance, is a man who has longed to meet his mother, has failed in his marriage and as a father, discovers his sister in England and the truth about his mother. David Wenham, on the other hand, plays a cheeky lout of a man whose brash exterior covers his longing for his mother and who, after initial antagonism towards Margaret, becomes her ally.

The film was directed by the English director, Jim Loach, who has been quite prolific in directing episodes of many British television soaps and serials. His father is Ken Loach, whose films for over forty years have been part of the social conscience.

For audiences unaware of this history, the material might be shocking – another stolen generation. It was the subject in the 1992 ABC mini-series, The Leaving of Liverpool, and of a book by Sydney Catholic journalist, Alan Gill, Orphans of the Empire (1997).

The Christian Brothers’ institution in Western Australia, Bindoon, formed the basis of a central story of The Leaving of Liverpool. It becomes a symbolic story in the second half of Oranges and Sunshine. The other institutions in Oranges and Sunshine, Fairbridge, is seen in a reunion of past children where they approach Margaret Humphreys to find their parents.

From a Catholic point of view, especially in the revelations of clerical and religious sexual abuse in the last twenty years, the stories of Bindoon are dismaying. The immediate shock impact when these stories were revealed has gone, but the examination of conscience, the focus on the suffering of the abused have still to deepen. The many films that have opened up these events in dramatic story form can contribute to that awareness and the examination of conscience.

At one stage, Margaret Humphreys appears before a British government panel. They immediately refer to the historical context of the children being sent to Australia – and that is true. But, it has become something of a reflex response that runs the danger of sidestepping the very human suffering of the abused. It is the danger for a religious or a Catholic response.

When the David Wenham character, who lived at Bindoon, takes Margaret Humphreys there, there is an unsettling scene where they go for a cup of tea into the Brothers’ refectory and receive silent stares or bewilderment. A young brother awkwardly serves them the tea in old and cracked cups, no saucers, then in a teapot where he has forgotten to put the tea. Whether this happened or not is not the point. The point is that it has been very hard to comprehend what went on, to reply adequately at times to accusations and confrontations.

Much is said of Brother Keaney’s regime at Bindoon and how harsh the treatment was of the boys, working shoeless on the property in the sun, year after year with no education opportunities, receiving painful physical punishment and, from Brothers on the staff, sexual molestation and abuse. In acknowledging this, the Brothers paid large sums of compensation in 1993 to over two hundred of the boys from Bindoon.
A reflection on the novitiates and formation up to the 1960s. Young men and women who joined religious orders were also treated harshly in many instances. There was a philosophy (spirituality?) of curbing one’s own will in order to do God’s will. This meant a great number of petty humiliations by the Novice directors. It often meant doing a great deal of hard manual labour. It meant an ascetical life of early rising, sometimes disregard of seasons and temperatures, the cultivation of extra practices of physical mortification to subdue the senses and passions, a wariness of expressions of affection, at times an obedience that was blind.

On reflection, it can now be seen that many religious priests, brothers and sisters absorbed this formation and saw it as a pattern for handling people in their ministries. In some ways, brothers like those at Bindoon, were following the patterns of their formation and humiliations and, without someone to guide them, let it fester into abusive behaviour.

This is part of the examination of conscience and challenge for Catholic clergy and religious, as well as for broader society, that films like Oranges and Sunshine offer.

OUR FATHERS

8th June, 2005

Our Fathers was screened on US cable channel, Showtime, on May 21st, 2005. It was also screened in the market at the Cannes Film Festival for sales for cinema exhibition or television screenings in countries outside the US.

2002 was a most difficult year for the Catholic church in the United States. Many victims of clerical sexual abuse and molestation made themselves known to authorities, especially after the court proceedings against Fr John Geoghan in Boston. It was a harrowing year for these victims with their memories and hurt and for their families. It was also a harrowing year for many in authority in the Church, from bishops to diocesan directors of communication who had to find ways of responding to media demands while always offering compassion to those who suffered. It was a year of apologies. It was a year of judicial proceedings and attempts to formulate appropriate protocols for the American church.

Our Fathers, directed by Dan Curtis, and based on the book, Our Fathers: the Secret Life of the Catholic Church in an Age of Scandal, by David France who had covered the story when a senior editor at Newsweek, is a dramatized interpretation of the year in Boston which began with the Fr Geoghan trial, continued with other priests being accused and ended with the resignation of Cardinal Bernard Law. The film is generally carefully written, giving voice to a range of perspectives, questions and attitudes that have emerged in connection with the sex abuse cases. The legal aspects of the case are frequently centre screen. As might be expected, the film is supportive of victims and critical of church authorities, personalities and procedures.

Since the cases were so prominently featured in all the media over a long period, the events are in the public domain. It is part of the healing of memories for the victims as well as for Catholics, both in authority and in the pews, that films like Our Fathers are seen and discussed. When the story cuts deep, it is an opportunity for examination of conscience as well as for atonement. The church has been facing these realities, sometimes forced to face them and reluctantly, but cannot shirk them. It is important to remember, as Cardinal George Pell of Sydney declared after accusations were made against him that he would step down from office during the time of the investigation into the allegations, that he was not above civil law or canon law. The investigation was carried out. The allegations were found to have no substance and he resumed his ministry as archbishop of Sydney. Americans remember that Cardinal Joseph Bernardin was falsely accused of abusing a seminarian and went to visit the man in hospital as he was dying. The abuse experience has called for both honesty and compassion in the church.

It can be important for audiences, especially Catholic audiences, to watch dramatisations of cases like those of Fr Geoghan and Fr Birmingham (they are on the record). Newspaper headlines and reports do not always tell the human story behind the media story. Analyses in papers and magazines, on radio and television help to clarify ideas but do not always communicate the experience and the feelings of those concerned. The media of theatre and film are able to do this. (The play Doubt, where a nun suspects a priest of abuse, has just won several Tony awards.) There are quite a number of films dealing with abuse of children, many of them with church themes: Song for a Raggy Boy, Mal Educacion, The Boys of St Vincent, The Magdalene Sisters…

Our Fathers shows the victims of abuse in their adult years and the damage that they still bear, ranging from low self-esteem and marital difficulties, even to suicide. Sometimes Catholics who have not personally encountered someone who has experienced abuse are not really aware of the consequences of the abuse and the long-term spiritual and psychological damage – and alienation from priests and the church. They are not aware of the constant feelings of shame and self-blame that the victims retain. Our Fathers uses discreetly filmed flashbacks (with the emphasis on verbal communication rather than visuals of the molestations) to bring home the reality of the abuse within the context of family life, school, church and the plausible pretexts that the clergy used to deceive parents and rationalize their behaviour with the children.

The film, which starts with Fr Geoghan’s ordination and the bishop asking the seminary rector whether this candidate was worthy, also fills in aspects of the accused priests’ lives and behaviour. Opinions of fellow priests are indicated and their wariness. In dramatic terms, one of the most moving sequences has an adult character remember his experiences with Fr Birmingham and then reveal to his fellow-victims that he had visited the priest as he was dying in hospital thirteen years earlier to find some kind of forgiveness for his hatred of him.

Many critics blame lawyers for inflating the cases for the sake of greater financial compensation. This theme is tackled well in the film. Ted Danson portrays Mitchell Garebandian, the lawyer who found himself in deeper waters than he anticipated and pursued Fr Geoghan. He is portrayed warts and all, his callow attitudes as well as his more personal involvement in the cases, his temptations to celebrity as well as his decent behaviour. The screenplay traces the steps he took to find evidence and documentation concerning the priests, letters written by complaining parishioners, a formal report from the 1980s commissioned by the church, which were not made available by Church authorities until a judge compelled them to. The decisions of the Boston Globe to pursue the issues and the people are also dramatized.

Christopher Plummer appears as Cardinal Law. He interprets the Cardinal in a complex way. He is a churchman of the old school who sees it as his duty to protect the church and its reputation. He is a prelate who comes to realize that he has made grave mistakes in judgment – the scene where he speaks of his mistakes to Pope John Paul II has moving moments and takes us into the mind and heart of the Cardinal. The other sequences which repay viewing to try to understand how the Cardinal saw his role include a visit of one of the victims (who has been ignored and put off even when the Cardinal had said he would meet victims) confronts him in his residence and forces the Cardinal to listen and empathise as well as persuading him to attend a meeting of victims and families where he has a tough reception.

A sub-plot concerning a sometimes disgruntled priest, Fr Dominic Spagnolia (Brian Dennehy in a no holds barred performance) who speaks in his pulpit against Cardinal Law and demonstrates against him sometimes distracts from the main thrust of the film. Towards the end of the film, however, it becomes very serious as this priest has to face his own demons as well as allegations.

Films like Our Fathers are not easy to watch, even for those who do not share Christian faith, because they portray the scandal of men who are publicly committed to God and goodness abusing their trust in a predatory and secret way. The scandals have been more widespread around the world than anyone would have imagined twenty years ago. They have significance for the credibility of the church and the clergy. They have all kinds of repercussions on the faith of the faithful. The financial compensation to victims has led to diocesan bankruptcies and the curtailing of many charity and educational projects.

In these cases, the sins of the fathers affect their victims who need compassion and they affect all those who belong to the church.

SIGNIS STATEMENT


PHILOMENA

Philomena is a good old-fashioned Catholic name, a bit like Christopher, names which derive from saints whose authenticity was questioned. So, Philomena is an apt name for the central character evoking a past Catholic Church, a strong and triumphant Church, which is now shaming so many Catholics around the world. This film has subject material that has been brought up in many government enquiries, particularly in Ireland where the key action of this film takes place. The fate of unmarried and pregnant young women in Ireland was often a kind of internment in institutions run by sisters, using the young women as Magdalenes in their laundries. Films which dramatised these situations include The Magdalene Sisters and the telemovie, Sinners.

Some reviewers have raised the question as to whether this film is an attack on the Catholic church, especially the reviewer of the New York Daily Post.
An atheist movie reviewer has criticized the new film “Philomena” as “another hateful and boring attack on Catholics,” saying that it unfairly shows the Church as exploitative and coercive.

“Anyone who is honest understands that it lambastes the way Irish Catholicism played out in 1950s Ireland, using falsehoods whenever necessary to underscore the point,” said Kyle Smith, a movie critic for the New York Post.

“Some like ‘Philomena’ for that reason. Some think there should be a little more art than diatribe to a film,” he continued.
… “a witless bore,” “90 minutes of organized hate,” and “a diabolical-Catholics film, straight-up.”
This is a reminder that the Catholic Church has been criticised in a number of films, especially in the context of clerical sexual abuse. Catholics are being asked to examine the conscience of the Church and acknowledge more sinfulness than they might have imagined in years gone by. Whatever the stance of Philomena, it contributes to this examination of conscience.

The challenge of the film will be more extensive than others since it stars the ever-popular Judi Dench as Philomena and she gives one of her best performances, already nominated for awards. Philomena is getting widespread distribution.

Older Catholics, especially in English-speaking countries, could recount similar stories to those in the film: harsh attitudes towards these young women, severe and authoritarian behaviour of nuns and clergy. But, so many Catholics, while decrying this behaviour, remained steadfast in their faith – as does Philomena Lee, the actual subject of the film. She wrote a letter to Kyle Smith criticising his review and professing her faith.

The US Catholic News Service reviewer, John Mulderig, takes a more balanced approach in considering the Church issues:

… properly viewed, "Philomena" may serve to illustrate the dangers that can result when appreciation for the virtue of chastity degenerates into puritanical repression — and when objective moral truths are misused as judgmental bludgeons.

With the exception of one seemingly temporary crisis, moreover, Philomena herself is shown to cling tenaciously to the very faith by whose representatives she was so cruelly mistreated. In fact, her Gospel-based beliefs help to set up the contrast in personalities between the two leads on which much of the movie's drama — as well as many of its interludes of much-needed comic relief — turn.

Throughout their interaction, Philomena's religiously inspired enthusiasm for life, friendliness toward others and willingness to forgive are shown to be in stark opposition to Sixsmith's jaded, isolating air of condescension.

Mulderig makes the important point:Even so, the challenging material on offer here, including a conflicted but not fundamentally hostile outlook on faith.

And the film itself.

It was written by Steve Coogan, best known as a comic performer and writer, himself an ex-Catholic portraying journalist, Labour government adviser, Martin Sixsmith (also ex-Catholic), who worked with Philomena Lee in the search for the son who was suddenly taken from her when he was about six. While Coogan has written all the anti-Catholic comments in the film and Sixsmith demands an apology from Sister Hildegarde, morally intransigent in her attitudes towards the young women, declaring that they deserve their pain and suffering for their immoral behaviour, Coogan has devoted his energies to this story. (There is dramatic licence here since the actual Sister Hildegarde was dead.)

Audiences can forget that it was Coogan who also wrote the faith statements of Philomena as well as her criticisms of Sixsmith’s anger and seeming bitterness.

Judi Dench perfectly embodies Philomena, now elderly, a former nurse, who signed a document of silence about what happened to her and her son. She is a simple woman, not so quick on jokes, loves to recount the plots of Mills and Boons type novels. Martin Sixsmith decides to investigate where the boy might have been taken – which leads to the US.

The search is a blend of hope and disappointment, finally reaching a sad solution, once again highlighting the cruel decisions of the sisters concerning concealing information from Philomena and her son.

While the performances are powerful and the subject so serious, there is a great deal of humour (like the bit in the trailer where Philomena refuses a drink on British Airways, Martin telling her that it is free and she relenting, remarking that you have to pay for everything on Ryanair).

The director is the prolific Stephen Frears, a master of all kinds of genre. His other film with Catholic themes is Liam, a story of Catholics in Liverpool in the 1930s, written by Jimmy McGovern?.

Both Liam, in 2000, and Philomena, 2013, won the SIGNIS (World Catholic Association for Communication) award at the Venice Film Festival.

RELIGULOUS

31st March 2009


As the title indicates, the filmmakers want us to approach this documentary on religion with a sense of the ridiculous.

For many believers, whatever the religion, this can be an interesting challenge. After all, everything human (even of divine origin) can be the subject of humour, otherwise it is made into an idol on a pedestal which can easily be knocked off. These believers will be interested to see how humorously aspects of religion are treated, with respect or stepping over bounds. For many believers, on the other hand, especially most of those displayed in this film (and it should be emphasised that most are displayed in images or paraded in interviews which make many of them really look and sound ridiculous and to be laughed at) will be upset at the criticism and ridiculing of their beliefs.

However, irrespective of good taste or stepping over bounds, anyone whose belief and beliefs are threatened by this kind of criticism does not really have well-grounded beliefs. And, after all, Religulous is only a film, a 100 minute movie.

The interviewer, Bill Maher, is well-known to American television audiences. He is a stand-up comedian become interviewer who has an agenda but who takes the trouble to find people that he does not agree with (especially in politics) and interviews them, sardonically but in a friendly way, usually, but is being provocative with the advantage over the interviewees, of course, of post-production editing his material – and also of placing captions at the bottom of the screen where he has evidence that the interviewee is not telling the truth or where he wants to make a joke. (He does this most effectively with some evangelists who rake in the money and who quote Jesus as fairly well-off, wearing fine linen and advocating being rich!).

Maher talks about his own background, half Jewish, half Catholic, brought up to age 13 as a Catholic, but whose creed is now questioning and doubt. Early in the film, he has an interview with his mother and sister questioning them about their religious beliefs and practice in the past. He admits up front that he finds many aspects of religions ridiculous and wants to illustrate this. As more than an aside, his director is Larry Charles who directed Borat (and Maher is a straightforward and polite interviewer compared with Borat!).

It is curious and interesting to note that in his film Maher stays with the Judaeo- Christian tradition and Islam and does not venture into the religions that originated in Asia.

Maher's agenda seems to be 1) the beliefs that seem to be rationally impossible and which are accepted blindly, 2) the relationship between faith and science and 3) the fundamentalist interpretation of scriptures whether the Hebrew Scriptures, the Christian Scriptures or the Koran.

One should note that for non-believers and for those who have not studied religion, Maher's parade can seem very funny as interviewees seem to be obstinately superstitious at best and obstinately stupid at worst. Actually, depending on where they stand, believers will think that those who believe in ways different from themselves are stupid – a case in point is listening to some former Mormons describe the mind-boggling claims of Joseph Smith and his visions or the Latin American Miami-based Jose Miranda who believes that he is Jesus incarnate at the Second Coming! - and Maher shrewdly points this out for his audience.

As regards beliefs which seem irrational:

It is easy to ridicule and to quote the scriptures to make a point seem religulous. To lump belief in a footprint of Jesus in Jerusalem, the Virginal conception of Jesus, the Virgin Birth, and beliefs about Mohammad's ascent into heaven and the 'talking snake' in the Garden of Eden is smart TV but not rationally honest. Any researcher will know that there are considerable differences in content and status of belief, between doctrine, religiosity and eccentric devotions. More nuanced questions need to be asked. It is interesting to note that Maher does not interview any professional theologian of any faith to clarify the meaning of the doctrinal or pious labels that he introduces into questions. He can toss off a statement about every Sunday drinking the blood of a man dead for 2000 years and does not offer an opportunity to anyone to say to him that he really doesn't know properly what he is talking about. His statement is irrational and needs substantial qualifications, the kind of rigour that he would demand of the people he is questioning.

As regards religion and science:

Maher interviews many fundamentalist American Christians as well as the manager of the Genesis Centre which is a theme park designed to illustrate creation in 6 days and deny any evolutionary theory. The adherents to an anti-evolutionary belief simply state that the word of God in Genesis has to be taken literally, so it is difficult to dialogue with them because the main discussion is not science but how to read and interpret the scriptures.

As regards Catholicism, it is something of a relief to hear Maher speaking with American Jesuit Fr George Coyne, Emeritus Director of the Vatican Observatory who points out, with the aid of a caption timeline, that the 2000 years or so of the creation of the Judaeo-Christian? scriptures were not the centuries of scientific research or language and so we cannot expect that to be found in the Scriptures. He also points out the long time gap from the Scriptures to the era of science and scientific research and language in more recent centuries. He highlights statements of John Paul II about the compatibility of Scripture and Evolution theory. In terms of the religulous, this puts the Catholic tradition, at least, in a different category from fundamentalists.

As regards the reading and interpretation of Hebrew, Christian and Muslim Scriptures:

Maher finds that the responses from many Christians, some Jews (and Rabbis) and Muslim scholars are grounded in a literal reading of their Scriptures. The Bible says, therefore... The Koran says, therefore...

It would be hoped that any fair-minded audience of Religulous, would realise that those who answer in this way are reading texts of past centuries as if they were written this morning with a 21st century mentality and vocabulary in mind – like the actor playing Jesus in the Florida Holy Land theme park who argues that God is a jealous God, taking jealousy in a contemporary sense which makes it sound petty rather than the meaning in the original language (which means beware of making arguments from translations without reference to the originals). Some of the Muslim commentators note that a Sura needs to be understood in its context and interpreted.

The main difficulty with Religulous and Bill Maher's approach is that he has not done his homework properly and is asking 'irrational' questions of some believers. The priest in St Peter's Square, Fr Reginald Foster, in his bluff and humorous way (which could scandalise some staunch believers), tries to tell Maher that he is out of date simply relying on basic and unnuanced Catechism answers he learned in Sunday school decades ago and not updating himself (as he would with changes in party politics policy) with recent and current developments and study. It is always surprising to find serious adults who are stuck in what St Paul reminds us: when I was a child, I thought like a child. They do not seem to realise that, as far as religion is concerned: now I am an adult, I should think and speak like an adult.

In an academic phrase, what is lacking in Maher's approach and his framing of questions, is that he does not have a sound and rational historiography. This means that he does not take into account changes in mindsets, language and ideas in expression through different cultures, languages and times. This makes him the equivalent of a fundamentalist in his own reading of some of the scriptures. The questions he asks and the statements he makes about, for instance, evidence for the existence of Jesus and likening the Gospels and their creation to modern-day biography or journalistic editing means that he did not take Fr Coyne's comments on eras of scripture and science on board: that there are substantial differences between Gospel portraits for evangelisation purposes in a media-limited era and contemporary biography accuracy (although all history – and documentaries – are not the truth 'as it is' but interpretation). Were Maher to research the material available (Jewish, Christian, Muslim) on interpretation, he would be asking different, better and more interesting questions.

Maher, as all of us should be (although many of his interviewees were devoutly locked into apocalyptic, rapture, end-times, second coming soon acceptance of wars and disasters), is concerned at the atrocities, the dehumanising features of history, so much of which comes from religious beliefs or causes. But ideology is not religion. For too many Christians, the religious identity is nothing more than a calling card or social status which requires some attendance at functions but really makes no demands on understanding faith or translating the message of the faith into justice or charity. Maher became disillusioned with religion, boring religion, early in his life. But, it was interesting that early in the film after an encounter, he thanked an interviewee for being Christ-like rather than Christian.

Now, there is a theme for another film: the spirituality of faith, lived faith, and the rationality of spirituality that is based on religious experience of the authentic kind.

REQUIEM


23rd February 2006

During 2005, a surprise box-office success around the world was Scott Derrickson’s The Exorcism of Emily Rose, around $80,000,000 in the US alone.
There was a SIGNIS statement sent out in October 2005about the film and its treatment of demonic possession and exorcism, giving the background to the film, events which occurred in Bavaria in the mid-1970s. The screenplay for Emily Rose adapted some of these events and characters to the United States and fictionalised them.

At the 2006 Berlinale, a new German film, Requiem, was screened in the main Competition, winning a Silver Bear for the performance of Sandra Hueller as well as the award from the international federation of film critics (FIPRESCI). Critics at the festival tended to praise Requiem at the expense of The Exorcism of Emily Rose, sometimes indulging in the perennial critical pastime, the putdown of the Hollywood movie. They praised Requiem for its more direct storytelling and more straightforward in dealing with the psychological and religious issues of possession.

However, it needs to be said that Emily Rose is an American genre film, a psychological and religious thriller, and needs to be critiqued accordingly, appreciating the conventions it relies on and uses. Requiem is not a genre film. Rather, it is a serious-minded European-style drama.

Since the original events took place in Germany, with Catholic characters and raising Catholic issues, it is appropriate to offer comments made by Dr Peter Hasenberg from the German Catholic Bishops Conference to give a German response. Some comments on the issues will follow.

'Hans- Christian Schmid, who has been called ‘the most serious among German directors’, has approached the theme of demonic obsession form a point of view diametrically opposed to that of Scott Derrickson in ‘The Exorcism of Emily Rose’.

The title of the film indicates that it is not a thriller about exorcism, but rather a film about a tragic death brought about by complex influences. Set in a small town in Germany in the 1970s, the film tells the story of a young woman who seems to be at the brink of a new life when she goes to the university in Tübingen to become a teacher. She is disturbed by the fact that her already well-known malady – she has suffered from epilepsy since childhood – is coming back. She regards this as God’s punishment and begins to see visions of demons.

She turns for help to her parish priest who refuses to accept the interpretation that she may be posessed by demons but draws in a younger colleague who is more willing to accept the possibility of a demonic possession.

There is not the slightest trace of sensationalism in the film. The director’s aim is not to accuse but to understand. The documentary style reminds us that Schmid studied documentary film-making and that he is interested in the truth behind a well-known case. He depicts this tragedy of a young woman with a very sensitive approach to all the characters involved. Even though some of them may be guilty to some extent – e.g. the stern mother or the young priest – they are not depicted as evil influences. The tragedy lies in the fact that all the people involved are basically good-willed and would like to help but are unable to reach the young woman who cannot resolve the conflicts inside herself except by embracing her suffering as sent from God and accepting her death as a martyr suffering for a higher good.'

The director and screenwriter have both stated that they do not believe in demonic possession. They see the experience of the central character, here called Michaela, as a physical and mental health condition. It is shown that Michaela has suffered from epilepsy since childhood. However, they wanted to present the possession of Michaela in as detached a way as they could. They respect the beliefs of Michaela and her family and want to tell the story so that audiences will be able to assess the different opinions on possession They want to present the story without bias. They have.

One of the difficulties for audiences watching films like Emily Rose and Requiem is that they have largely been pre-conditioned to expect rather sensational visualisations of possession as well as reactions to exorcism. William Friedkin’s The Exorcist (1973) has set a benchmark: physical contortions, bile spewing, levitation, gross language and abuse. Sequels and prequels and imitations over the decades have reinforced this. Emily Rose is quite restrained in its presentation of possession phenomena, relying on performance rather than special effects. This is even truer of Requiem. The possession does affect Michaela’s physical condition but not so grotesquely. There are some manifestations of loss of control (spitting at her mother) and some abusive language. There is only one exorcism sequence and, unlike the other films, where this always happens at night, it takes place in daylight.

The parish priest in Emily Rose is accused of negligent homicide because he supported Emily Rose in her decision to stop taking her medication. Most of the film takes place in the court. There are two priests in Requiem. The elderly parish priest who has known Michaela for a long time is wary of too supernatural an explanation. He asks a younger, more educated priest to help. This priest is more inclined to believe Michaela and is in favour of prayer to confront the demons. Both priests perform the exorcism in a rather low-key manner. (A postscript to the film informs audiences that Michaela experienced several more exorcisms and finally weakened and died.)

Most viewers, including Christians, will be more prone to accept the psychological explanation. This is certainly the ‘secular’ opinion. The screenplay of Emily Rose, however, reminds us that anthropological information gives evidence of demonic possession in many cultures other than Christian. That needs to be seriously considered.

However, there are two Catholic comments that can be made and they apply both to Emily Rose and to Requiem. Theologically speaking, the two films take similar stances. The two films can be seen as complementary.

The first point is that there is a long Christian tradition that chosen individuals, men and women, seem to have been singled out, with a ‘vocation’, to be tempted and tested, to suffer, to experience personal physical and mental torment. They witness to evil in the world. They witness to the need for repentance, reconciliation, reparation and atonement. Paul himself writes to the Romans about the torment of doing what he does not want to do and not being able to do what he wants. Stories, sometimes of rather lurid temptations, are ascribed to the early desert hermits and fathers and this tradition of victim saints has continued over the centuries. More recent saints who have had such experiences include St John Vianney of Ars and the Italian St Gemma Galgani. In Requiem, towards the beginning of the film, Michaela goes on a parish pilgrimage to an Italian shrine of St Katharine, a recluse who suffered great pain and died at the age of 33. Michaela is impressed by this saint and begins to understand her life and death as a parallel.

This is not a comfortable spirituality and the immediate reaction of most people is to reject it or even ridicule it. This was part of a reaction to Mel Gibson’s The Passion of the Christ. However, it is one of the key points of Kaszantsakis’s novel and Martin Scorsese’s film The Last Temptation of Christ. Giving up on one’s vocation is the last temptation. Jesus himself experienced all human temptation, as the letter to the Hebrews states, but in no way turned away from God. It is very clearly this spirituality that Michaela accepts, seeing herself as a suffering witness for God, a martyr.

The second point concerns what seems to be a clash between religion and science. Developments in the theology of miracles throw light on this issue. In the earlier centuries of the church, events which were proclaimed as miracles could well have been explained by natural causes, or were the product of suggestion or superstition. In the 18th century, in the Age of Enlightenment, Pope Benedict XIV drew up stringent criteria for assessing the truth of miracles of healing. To move away from piety and from superstition, it was decreed that miracles were cures beyond what was naturally possible. For the next centuries, there was rigorous examination of miracles (as in Lourdes) or those accepted for the processes of beatification and canonization of saints.

This, however, can relegate the context of faith to a lesser consideration. The important aspect of miracles (as in the Gospel narratives) is that the healing takes place in a context of prayer and belief. In that sense, the physical possibility of healing or self-healing is less important and can be acknowledged. It is the faith context which is all important.

A parallel can be used for possession and exorcism. While there may be medical, psychological and physical explanations for the condition and for the cure, the exorcism, it is the context of faith that is most important. There should not be any logical dichotomy between faith and science.

Emily Rose raises these issues of faith and science, prayer and psychology for the wide, multiplex, audiences so that they can reflect on the popular film they have seen. Requiem is a mainstream drama for many audiences, especially Europeans, but less likely to be popular in the movie complexes. But, it also raises many questions of faith. While the film-makers of Requiem do not profess faith, they have shown respect for faith and for those who believe. There is a key scene and line in Requiem when Michaela first arrives for lectures and is late. The professor asks her what she believes in. She simply says, ‘in God’. There is some general laughter in disbelief and mockery among the students. The professor remarks that that is where the trouble is. In scepticism.

RISEN

US, 2016, 107 minutes, Colour.
Joseph Fiennes, Tom Felton, Peter Firth, Cliff Curtis.
Directed by Kevin Reynolds.

There is an unusual film phenomenon at the opening of 2016. Two films, Scripture-based, but imaginative interpretations of gospel events.

Since 2000, have been many religious films, success attributed to Mel Gibson’s The Passion of the Christ. there have been quite a number of Jesus films: The Miracle Maker, Mary mother of Jesus, Jesus, The Gospel of John, the South African Son Of Man. It seems that there is an appetite in a wide range of audiences for Biblical films (more recently Noah and Exodus: Gods and Kings).The two films further 2016 are The Young Messiah, a film about Jesus at the age of seven, and Risen, a perspective on the death and resurrection of Jesus from the point of view of a Roman Tribune. This is the kind of story that was developed in the 1953 film, The Robe, and used in the current comedy about Hollywood film-making, Hail, Caesar!.

In an age where the title might suggest zombies in the living dead, is interesting to see that the title is for the risen Jesus. This is a worthy film, in some ways a Roman spectacle but, ultimately, a film about faith.

Technically, the film is very well made, using Morocco settings, re-creation of Jerusalem, Pilate’s residence, Calvary, the disciples in the upper room, as well as the Judaean desert, the sea of Galilee and the mountains. The director is Kevin Reynolds who, in the past, directed such blockbusters as Robin Hood, Prince of Thieves and Waterworld. The film is technically well-crafted.

But, for many viewers, the key question is: how is the resurrection of Jesus treated? Basically, the answer is with reverence and some awe.

The audience is giving the setting of troubles in Judaea at the time of Jesus. There is an opening battle sequence, quite vivid in its action, where the Roman soldiers are confronting the Zealots, the Romans being bombarded by heavy rocks but capitalising on military strategies, using their shields for protection and advancing on the Zealots, defeating them and taking Barabbas. The commander is Claviuis, played very seriously by Joseph Fiennes.

Then we are given the background of Pilate, his concern about beating the Zealots, his remarking to Clavius that he has had trouble, allowing the chief priests to take a prisoner, Yeshua, and crucifying him. Pilate has been troubled and thinks that Yeshua has had a death wish, wanting to sacrifice himself. Pilate and then sends Clavius to Calvary to oversee the breaking of the legs of the thieves and of Yeshua but he authorises the piercing of the issue aside with a lance, despite the Centurion’s professing faith in Yeshua. Mary and the others are glimpsed at the foot of the cross.

This means that the Gospel events are being looked at from the point of view of the Romans. This is particularly the case when Joseph of Arimathea brings a message from Pilate with permission to take the body of Jesus, Clavius inspecting the tomb before the huge stone is rolled over it and Roman seals put on the stone. (The other bodies are seen being thrown into lime pits.)

The film makes much of the incompetent soldiers, drinking on guard, wanting a night off, experiencing something strange and then reporting back to Caiaphas with the invention of the story of the stealing of Jesus’ body. Pilate is insistent to Clavius (and Caiaphas even more insistent) that the body be found and any rumours of Yeshua Risen are quashed.

Which means that the audience goes behind the familiar scenes, with Clavius and his assistant searching for all the recently buried bodies (a desecration that the people abhor) and then interviewing various disciples of Yeshua, including a cheery Bartholomew, an old blind lady, and a very serious Mary Magdalene, identified professionally by a number of the soldiers.

But, one of those interviewed is prepared, Judas-like, to betray the disciples and leads the Romans to the upper room, Clavius entering at the time of Thomas’s encounter with Yeshua and astonished at seeing him.

From this point on, the film changes gear, Clavius rather overwhelmed by what seemed impossible, his leaving his post, travelling north and encountering Peter and the other apostles, sharing their experience with them at the Lake of Galilee, even talking to Yeshua about his search for meaning, and then an ascension scene, not a levitation, but Yeshua speaking the familiar words and walking into the sunrise.

By this stage, the focus is on faith, the encounter with Yeshua and the consequences.

As has been said, the film is well crafted technically, is written with serious intent, performed seriously, with Peter Firth as Pilate and a very sympathetic Cliff Curtis (the New Zealand Maori actor) as Yeshua.

The film will be sympathetically received by believing audiences, by Christians of all denominations, and with some interest in interpreting the Gospels from the Roman perspective by those who do not share faith.

THE RITE

11th March 2011

For almost forty years, since The Exorcist was first released in 1973, demonic possession and exorcisms have been in the forefront of films which combine horror with the life of the Catholic Church. The Exorcist led to three sequels and, in recent years, two prequels. A 1976 case in Germany was the basis for Requiem as well as for The Exorcism of Emily Rose. And there have been quite a number of minor and exploitation films.

This is the movie setting for The Rite.

However, a significant part of the context for The Rite is the introduction of a course in Rome, well publicised and sometimes sensationalised by the media, for instructing exorcists. Interviews with some of the exorcists, especially in Italy, have been published. Several books have been written. The screenplay for The Rite is derived from a documentary book by Matt Baggio.

It should be said that The Rite is particularly Catholic-friendly. Catholic audiences who are getting older would be more at home with the film, especially the first part. Younger Catholics could be intrigued by the information given and follow through. Christian believers will find the film interesting. Believers in the transcendent would be open to the events and the interpretations. Rationalists and sceptics would (and have) dismissed the story as ecclesiastical mumbo jumbo and superstition, a variation on themes for horror movies.

The question arises about the reality of demonic possession and and the rituals for exorcising demons. Apart from the movies, this is not part of the experience of the vast, vast majority of Catholics who have never met an exorcist nor anyone who has been possessed.

The film makes a reasonable case for possession (without any explicit reference to Gospel stories or Jesus' own casting out of devils). It offers some plausible enough scenarios (though they are in Italian settings, more emotional than in Anglo-Saxon?, Celtic traditions) and shows the rituals, the unpredictable nature of demonic behaviour, the energy demanded of the exorcist in praying and confronting evil.

The Rite has strong credentials. The Director is Swedish Mikael Hafstrom (whose credits include the thriller 1408 and the Swedish film, Evil, about a malevolent schoolboy). The writer is Michael Petroni who did the screenplay for The Chronicles of Narnia, Voyage of the Dawn Treader. It is 'inspired by' (not based on) material from a book on possession, exorcism and the story of Fr Gary Thomas, The Rite: The Making of a Modern Exorcist, by American Italy-based investigative writer, Matt Baggio. Fr Gary Thomas is parish priest of Sacred Heart, Saratoga, diocese of San Jose, who, when he went on sabbatical, his bishop asked him to attend the exorcism course in Rome. He did not have a crisis of faith (as his fictional counterpart in the film does). He was appointed exorcist for his diocese and works with a team of psychologists, psychiatrists and other priests. He says that most of those who approach him suffer from mental illness rather than possession. He sees his work as a healing ministry of the Church. (Googling Matt Baggio leads to information about the book. Googling Fr Gary Thomas will bring up the video (about.com) of the premiere of The Rite, a talk with Anthony Hopkins and a helpful interview with Gary Thomas.)

Even while the Warner Bros logo is still on screen, we hear a voice ask 'Do you believe in sin?'. Then follows something unusual for a commercial film, a papal quotation. It is from John Paul II about St Michael casting Satan down to hell, something which must continue today. Part of the reason for Catholics being at home with the film, is that in the early sequences we see crucifixes, rosary beads, statues of the Sacred Heart, Mary, St Therese and a recurring picture of a Guardian Angel.

The film is in two parts, each asking for a different response from the audience. The first part focuses more on theory, arguments pro and con possession; the second shows cases, which move the action into a more melodramatic phase.

The first part is more 'reasonable'. A young man, Michael Kovaks (Colin O'Donogue), helping his father in his mortician's business, decides to get away from home, receives a scholarship and goes to a seminary. At the time of his diaconate, he has doubts about his personal faith and asks to leave. When his seminary director slips in ice and causes a car to swerve and hit a girl on a bike, Michael, the young seminarian, is asked by the dying girl for absolution. He prays over her, very movingly. His superior (warning him that were he to leave he would forfeit his scholarship and would have to repay it – money and the American Church!) sends him to Rome for the course in Exorcism.

The scenes in the course, delivered by a Dominican, present the questions and queries an audience might have about possession and exorcism. Psychological arguments about mental illness are put forward and whether psychotic behaviour could be confused with possession. A figure (open to query) is given: half a million possessions reported to the Vatican each year and 'orders sent down' that there should be an exorcist in every diocese. The statistic at the end of the film mentions that, in fact, there are only fifteen in the US. There is also talk of there being, just as with angels, a hierarchy of demons. The exorcist needs to elicit the name of the demon who fears being named.

Michael is sent by Fr Xavier, the lecturer (Ciaran Hinds), to visit an old Welsh Jesuit who lives out of Rome, a former doctor, who has performed many exorcisms, Fr Lukas. Anthony Hopkins, giving an intelligent and generally restrained performance, is Fr Lukas. He invites Michael to observe and participate in examinations of the possessed (a pregnant 16 year old girl who had been raped by her father, a young boy who has mule prints on his back and torso, both of whom know secrets about Michael). Michael talks things over with a young woman (Alice Braga), a journalist who is doing the course, researching a feature article.

The second part of the film may not appeal so much and could give audiences a fright. As might be guessed, the exorcist is open and vulnerable to demonic attacks. Fr Lukas himself is taken over by a demon, giving Anthony Hopkins some heightened histrionic moments. This is the challenge for Michael who has just received news that his father has died and has experienced hallucinations, including a phone call from his father. The possessed FrLukas? uses this knowledge to torment, quite diabolical in its destructive insinuations, both Michael and the journalist about their lives and their families. (Choosing not to believe in the devil won't protect you from him, says Fr Lukas.)

As might be expected, this is the test for Michael, to perform the ritual despite his doubts and to recover the gift of faith. He is challenged to believe in the devil and then believe in God (symbolised by the crucifix on his rosary beads that he had bent back in unbelief at his mother's funeral and which he now bends back to normal).

Given the recent crises in the American Church concerning priesthood, The Rite is remarkably respectful of priesthood and vocational choices.

The question, 'Do you believe in sin?' is repeated at the end of the film.

But, there is a very pleasing line spoken by the healed Fr Lukas, who had already suggested an image of God's presence to doubters, 'God's fingernail' touching them, to Michael after his exertions, 'Faith becomes you'.

Not everyone will want to watch a film about possession. But, it is interesting to see a film from Hollywood that respects the Catholic Church whether the film-makers actually believe in faith and the Church or not.

A ROSE IN WINTER


October 25th 2018



UK, 2018, 137 minutes, Colour.
Zana Marjanovic, Christian Cooke, Ken Duken, Anja Kruse, Karl Markovics, Alice Krige, Franco Nero, Mia Jexen.
Directed by Joshua Sinclair.

After she was canonised by Pope John Paul II in 1998, Edith Stein was proclaimed one of the Catholic patrons of Europe, along with St Benedict.

Edith Stein was a very strong character during her lifetime, coming from a German Jewish family, born in 1890. An intelligent girl, she was also an avid reader and thinker. At University, she studied phenomenology under the expert, Edmund Husserl. She served as a nurse during World War I.

In her career as a philosopher, she was also a strong advocate of women’s rights, giving speeches around Germany, forthright, experiencing difficulties with the police.

Ever since her childhood, Edith Stein probed questions about the presence of God, the experience of death and grief, especially of her father. In her wide reading and discussions with friends, she was attracted towards the Catholic Church, especially the teachings of St Teresa of Avila, was baptised and considered a vocation to the Carmelites. Eventually, in 1934, she became a Carmelite, Sister Teresa Benedicta of the Holy Cross.

The conversion to Catholicism of a Jewish woman was always controversial, her mother disapproving of her baptism. However, with the rise of Hitler (and Edith Stein writing to Pope Pius XI and to the German Bishops about him, demanding action), she transferred from Cologne to a convent in Holland, making itself known to the authorities, but eventually arrested, transported to Auschwitz where she was murdered.

Given her spiritual and theological life-journey, Edith Stein is a focus for Jewish-Catholic? dialogue.

The film, A Rose in Winter, is a contribution to this dialogue.

The film offers an opportunity, in the length of 2 ¼ hours, to see something of the life of Edith Stein, to appreciate her philosophical, theological, spiritual and social journey. And, it offers dialogue which enables the audience to reflect on the meanings of her journey, the intellectual consequences, the emotional consequences.

While the film opens with shadowy scenes of railway lines, eventually leading to Auschwitz, the structure of the film is as a journalistic investigation. A young writer for the New York Times in 1963 is offered the opportunity to work on a file on Edith Stein. Busy, he is reluctant but sees her photo. This will have quite some dramatic and emotional significance by the end of the film.

The journalist’s name is Michael Prager. He immediately goes to Europe and begins a series of interviews with a number of people close to Edith Stein, beginning with her sister, Rosa. This provides the background for flashbacks showing Edith as a little girl, the Jewish family celebrating a Seder meal (and a reminder of the links with the Catholic Eucharist), her grief at the death of her loving father, her immediately trying to grapple with issues of God. We also see her as a precocious teenager, wanting to skip classes, avid in her reading as well has her questioning of all kinds of issues.

On the emotional level, there are World War I scenes, her work as a nurse, an encounter with a soldier, Hans, to whom she is attracted – and consequent scenes of her coming to him when he was wounded, his proposal of marriage, her rejection, yet the bond that remained even after her rejection of his proposal.

Audiences watching the film and not knowing so much about Edith Stein may be surprised at how powerful she was a presence in the women’s movement, the suffragette movement in Germany, her speeches and rallies around the country, her forthright presentations, even getting her into trouble with the authorities. And in the meantime, she studied philosophy, a top student, especially with the phenomenologist, Edmund Husserl.

Michael Prager’s discussions with Edith Stein’s friend, Anna, led to her interest in the Catholic Church, the attraction to St Terea of Avila, the screenplay having her quotation including ‘I have no other hands but yours…, Edith Stein is also impressed by people going to kneel and sit in prayer in the church while visitors to the synagogue went for ceremonies. Eventually, she approaches a priest, is baptised (to her mother’s dismay), waits for a sign for her entry into Carmel.

Already the film has given a great deal for audiences, Jewish and Catholic, to reflect on.

Michael Prager also visits the priest, now a bishop in the 1960s, who gives the background to Edith’s life as a Catholic, her reading and prayer, feeling that she had found a destination in her spiritual journey, taking the rise of Hitler and his demagoguery as a sign that she should enter Carmel, with a scene of her final profession and its ritual, her commitment (including flashbacks to her family and Hans).

Michael Prager makes a final visit to Hans’s son, find his diary, appreciates Hans’s sadness at Edith’s refusal of his proposal yet her influence on his later life.

There are quite a number of scenes of Edith Stein writing in her cell, her diaries, with substantial quotations from them.

Ultimately, for Edith, it is an acknowledgement of her pride in her Jewish background, her being arrested, sent on the train to Auschwitz. She was killed in 1942.

However, for the film audience, there is a very emotional postscript concerning Michael Prager, his contact with Edith Stein as a little boy of seven, at the station in Holland, on the train, his escape from the train and his subsequent adoption by a Polish family. This means that the audience, moved by the story of Edith Stein and the impact of her death in Auschwitz, continues very emotionally in sharing the story of Michael Prager.

It means that while God may seem absent in the lives of so many people, especially those in the trains to the death camps, God was present in different ways in different people, moving them to outreach and sharing God’s love with unanticipated consequences.

The maker of this film, writer-producer and director, Joshua Sinclair, is an actor and writer with quite an eclectic career, sometime lecturer in comparative theology but his CV notes that at one time with medico background he did some work with Mother Teresa in Calcutta.

The hope would be that with A Rose in Winter, Edith Stein, Sister Teresa Benedicta, Patron of Europe, which is acknowledged in the final captions of the film, would be seen as a significant 20th-century figure for Jews and Christians alike.

SILENCE SIGNIS STATEMENT



Silence is Martin Scorsese’s version of Shiraku Endo’s novel, Silence, which had become an award-winning, Cannes-screened, Japanese film in 1971. Scorsese wanted to make his version for 25 years but, until now, had failed in raising sufficient finance. His film now is a fine Scorsese achievement.

Scorsese is often quoted as stating that he is a Roman Catholic, first and last, and that he has seen his role as film director as akin to that of the priest, incarnating transcendent values in his films.

Scorsese has explored Catholic themes in only two films, Whose Knocking at My Door (1968) about a young Catholic man with problems in New York City. And now, Silence. At a time when so many people have lost interest in religion, questioning it as well as questioning faith in God, the Catholic Church is treated with some scepticism and, because of abuse scandals, priests considered with hostility, it is a surprise to find such a deep exploration of the priest and priesthood in 2016. But, it must be stated that Silence is also a film about Catholic laity.

Of course, Scorsese is very well known for his Jesus film, The Last Temptation of Christ (1988), not a Gospel film as such but an interpretation of the Gospel stories and Jesus’ humanity and divinity according to the novel by Greek Orthodox writer, Nikos Kazantszakis. As regards religion, Scorsese made the fine film about the Dalai Llama, Kundun (1997).

Scorsese was born in 1942 and the Catholicism that he grew up with, an Italianate New York Catholicism of the 1940s and 1950s, has been absorbed by the director. He turned 20 at the time of the first session of the Second Vatican Council but he seems to have moved away from day-by-day Catholicism at this period and his later comments and reflections do not echo the renewal instigated by Vatican 2. In many ways, Scorsese’s Catholicism is a past Catholicism.

This is evident in Silence, in its portrayal of the Jesuit priests, their missionary endeavours, the persecutions, torture and executions. The ethos of martyrdom is that of the period of Scorsese’s childhood and adolescence, a long tradition of heroism in giving up one’s life for the faith, witnessing to faith in suffering and death, reinforced at the time by the Church’s experiences in Eastern Europe, Czechoslovakia, Hungary, and the well-known stories of Cardinal Mindzenty in the 1950s.

In fact, the first two hours of Silence (and it is a long film running for 160 minutes) play as an appeal to the Catholic ethos of the 1940s and 50s. It could take its place alongside such films as the version of A.J.Cronin’s The Keys of the Kingdom (1943) with Gregory Peck as a missionary in China. Martyrdom is based on conviction, courage, identification in suffering and death with the passion of Jesus.

The film opens with some vivid re-creations of the execution of Jesuit priests, observed by fellow-Jesuit Father Ferreira (Liam Neeson) who writes a record of what he has seen and what he has felt. These executions occur in 1633. However, his record is delayed in reaching his Jesuit superiors and, in 1640, two earnest young priests, Father Rodriguez (Andrew Garfield, who excelled in 2016 in Hacksaw Ridge) and Father Garrpe (Adam Driver who excelled in 2016 in Paterson), volunteer to go to Japan to search for Father Ferreira.

What Scorsese presents in the first two hours, echoing Endo’s exploration of faith, is a sympathetic portrait of two earnest priests, their ministry to the Japanese laypeople who have survived persecution, hidden in villages in the vicinity of Nagasaki, who welcome the priests, eager to have mass and the opportunity for confession, and keep the priests hidden. The priests respond earnestly, the screenplay giving them many lines of reflection on their evangelisation, to spread the Gospel teaching, principally a Gospel of love, on their spirituality as Jesuits, the love for the Gospel stories which they quote with further, and the person of Jesus, their prayer.

It will be interesting to hear Jesuit responses to the film – and there have been significant films about 18th-century Jesuit missionary activity in The Mission (1986) with its South American settings and Black Robe (1991) about the missionaries in French-speaking Canada in the 17th century, at the same time as the action of Silence. Jesuit media personality, Father James Martin, appears in the credits as a consultant, other Jesuit’s from Taiwan (where the film was made), including strong SIGNIS presence, Father Jerry Martinson, are listed as well.

The priests, who come from Portugal via Macau, refer to the work done 100 years earlier by St Francis Xavier, refer to the Spiritual Exercises for their discernment in decisions and, the prayer of Father Rodriguez is very strong in his identifying with Jesus in the Gospel sequences, the composition of place recommended by St Ignatius Loyola.

It has been noted that this is a film about laity and the convert men and women are prominent in their living of their faith, sacramental life, support of the priests, and their willingness to suffer for their faith – including a long and harrowing sequence where four men are tortured, crucified at the water’s edge, and partly drowned as the waves and tides sweep over them. “Why are their trials so terrible – and our answers so weak?”. There are other sequences of torture and execution which are powerful reminders of the reality of this suffering (suffering which we can read about and absorb but which can be shocking when presented visually on screen).

So, in 2016, in the first two hours, we have a film which is a new dramatisation of older Catholic styles, Scorsese contributing to a re-awareness of Catholicism.

It is in the final 40 minutes that the film moves its audience, faithful as well as non-Christian, sympathetic or not, to consider questions about priesthood that have arisen since the Vatican Council. The word that is used throughout the screenplay, which we are not used to using in Christian circles now, is ‘apostasy’.

The Japanese authorities, originally sympathetic to the coming of Christianity, but then moving towards persecution, assertion of Buddhist traditions, and pressure on the priests to give up their faith, all Christians being asked symbolically to step, physically, on a religious image or to spit on the crucifix, refusing being “the most painful act of love performed”. These temptations for the priests to give up is a reminder of the key theme of The Last Temptation of Christ, Jesus being asked to come down from the cross and live an ordinary life, the last temptation being the temptation to ordinariness. In this case, for the priests to become Japanese citizens, absorbing Buddhist traditions, studying science and language, with wives and families.

The appeal to the priests is different from that to the peasant Christians: the priests are asked to renounce their faith so that the prisoners might be set free. Father Rodriguez spends a great deal of time in prison, witnessing the torture of the Christians, mental anguish as he prays, the temptation to give in for the sake of the lives of those who are to be killed. He hears the voice of Jesus himself “I know and share your pain, your life is with me now”, sometimes looking at the image of Jesus – at one stage, on the run, looking at his bedraggled reflection in a pool and seeing the face of Jesus. He has his own Gethsemane as the authorities pressurise him and bring in Father Ferreira, who had been Father Rodriguez’s inspiration, but who has made the decision, after torture, to renounce Christianity and the church.

Does the film suggest that the no greater love is not necessarily laying down life in death but in sacrificing one’s own life in living so that others may live?

One of the villagers who brings the priests to Japan, whose family have been executed but who has survived, seeing himself as a Judas (and frequently being a Judas) but who wants to confess and to be forgiven, challenging Father Rodriguez who does give him absolution to wonder how Jesus could love this kind of man.

Since the 1960s, many priests and religious have moved to lay life after years in vows. This is a theme that has preoccupied Catholics for almost half a century in a way that was not so explicit previously. Silence raises the issue of commitment to vocation, challenge to vocation, mental and emotional pressure, the experience of feeling “forsaken” intellectual arguments, and the crisis of conscience of renunciation to save others’ lives. Father Rodriguez uses the language of the “fallen priest”, “lost to God”.

A parenthesis: in the 1955 film based on the trials of Cardinal Mindzenty in Hungary, The Prisoner, the Cardinal is given some lines about what he might say in his trial, that because of the torture, he may sound as if he is denying his faith, something he is truly committed to.
The film does not end as we might have expected and the audience finishes watching Silence silently, reflecting, puzzled, hopeful… Especially with one final image of Father Rodriguez as he dies and his body ceremonially burnt in the 1680s.

Silence is a film of beautiful images on land and seascapes, dark and hidden sequences, and very much a film of words, articulated questions of faith, articulated prayers, and, towards the end, an emphasis on rational argument about religion, faith, comparative religions, the politics of Western powers in the 17th century and the reaction against them by the Japanese, and the challenging discussions about the nature of the faith, the possibility of doubt and the conversion of the Japanese, whether Christianity and Catholicism have actually taken root or are simply an adaptation, with sincere commitment, of long-standing beliefs and traditions. It is asked whether the convert value the signs of faith, metals and pictures, more than faith itself. There are substantial discussions about the nature of truth, its universality, and its being relative in different cultures. There are discussions about transcendence and how this is absent from Japanese culture, using the image of the sun: Jesus, the Son, rising after three days whereas the sun, sacred to the Japanese, rises daily in ordinary life.

Silence is not going to be a big box-office success. Initial reviewers who have commended this exploration of faith and a sense of God and God’s absence remark that the film was often boring – and may well be to the wider audience. In that sense, Scorsese has made the film for himself, a reflection on his own life, his beginnings in faith, his memories of the year he spent in the junior seminary in New York City and the example of the youth minister priest who inspired him, of his moving away from the institutional church, of his life and career, of his deep-seated interest in the basic themes of sin, guilt, repentance, suffering, redemption. There is hope in the screenplay with the laypeople talking about Paradise, hopeful an afterlife, which has to be better than the impoverished and persecuted life they are living here on earth.

SINNER

21st June 2007


Sinner is a small-budget, independent American film. Its topic is Catholic priesthood, specifically clerical celibacy. On this theme, it comes out positively for celibacy and ministry, though it illustrates the struggles and pitfalls.

The general public of 2007 may or may not be interested in priesthood. However, especially in the United States since 2002, much of the focus on priesthood, especially in the courts and in the media, has been on child abuse cases. This is acknowledged during the credit sequences of ‘Sinner’ with a voiceover collage concerning mostly well-known cases: Oliver O’ Grady, Boston, diocesan bankruptcies. Apart from these two minutes and the police chief character in the film who voices some of the public’s apprehensions about their children being altar servers and not becoming a statistic of abuse, pedophilia and abuse themes are absent from Sinner.

The film is of interest to Catholic audiences, especially to clergy. It might be seen as a case study as well as a Gospel allegory.

The screenplay was written by Steven Sills, who has a Catholic background, and directed by Marc Bernardout, who is British and Jewish, married to a Catholic.

Since the plot deals with a prostitute, Lil (Georgina Cates) who travels around parishes in what appears to be New England, seeking opportunities to compromise priests and blackmail them, it can be noted that there are a few provocative scenes and language which illustrate the character and the sometimes difficult situations for priests. There are some dramatic moments when the audience almost assumes that the priest will fall, only to find they have misjudged in anticipation. This is especially true of the last ten minutes of the film.

Perhaps it is more helpful to refer to the Gospel allegory first. This gives the framework for the plot with its plausibilities and some seeming implausibilities.

There are two priests in the parish of St Augustine (symbolic name with the film’s subject of sexuality and sin). The pastor, Fr Anthony Romano, played credibly by Nick Chinlund, is around fifty, an ordinary parish priest that many clergy will be able to identify with. However, the parish has become run down in terms of attendance at Masses and a younger man has been sent to assist and revive the parish, Fr Stephen (Michael E. Rodgers). He is what is sometimes called ‘a muscular Christian’ – and we initially see him jogging and, later, lifting weights. He is the earnest younger man, sometimes the bane of experienced pastors, with his rather rigid approach to life and morality, which he is not afraid of expressing bluntly. (Steven Sills’ plot synopsis in the Internet Movie Database refers to him as a ‘fundamentalist’ priest; he is not exactly ‘fundamentalist’ in the accepted sense, though he may appear so to an American audience where the word is more frequently used than elsewhere, in his unflinching dogmatic manner. Sills interestingly refers to the prostitute as a modern day Mary Magdalene which gives his interpretation of the very final scene that he wrote.)

When Lil, the prostitute, sets her sights on St Augustine’s, she attends Mass and listens to Fr Stephen’s reading of John 8, the story of the woman taken in adultery and the reactions of the religious leaders and of Jesus himself. She turns her attention to Fr Stephen since she has met the pastor and realises he is not an easy mark. Fr Stephen physically attacks her (‘to defend my celibacy’) and is arrested.

The rest of the film, which takes place over the next 24 hours, illustrates the hard-hearted attitude of the younger, righteous man who is aggressive, calls the police, upbraids his pastor and condemns him in rash judgments and wants to get rid of the prostitute. He represents those who assume that they should cast the first stone. The pastor, on the other hand, is compassionate, down-to-earth in his experience (we are given brief glimpses of his pastoral work), shrewd but willing to take risks, who, when he gives his car to Lil, explains to her the origins of the word, ‘redemption’, the buying back of someone.

Lil, over the brief time and her dealings with Fr Romano, trying to seduce, also trying to humiliate him, is eventually able to make some equivalents of ‘confession’ about her childhood, her profession and an abortion. Clearly, Fr Romano is doing what he thinks Jesus would have done.

To further comment on the plot would include what the bloggers call **spoilers** for those who have not seen the film. Suffice to say that there are many more strands in the character of the pastor, including some skeletons in his closet which have enabled him to commit himself to his celibacy. There is an unusual golf caddie companion (Brad Dourif) who brings some fantasy and overtones of angels and God to the character of the pastor. There is also the sub-plot with the police chief which is important at the end to show that the pastor is doing what Jesus did in the Gospels. The screenplay suggests that there might be more immediate redemption and awareness of redemption in the prostitute than in the zealous young priest.

The film has echoes of the British film, Priest, although the theme is quite different. It is also a reminder that there are a number of films which show priests and human weakness and repentance (thinking of Spencer Tracy in The Devil at 4 O’ Clock or, especially of Robert de Niro’s monsignor in True Confessions). In more recent times, there have been some films with positive portraits of priest as dedicated human beings, from the priest in Ken Loach’s Raining Stones to Edward Norton’s curate in Keeping the Faith.

Clergy might be interested in seeing Sinner as a starting point for discussions about contemporary priestly life.

SON OF GOD

US, 2014, 138 minutes, Colour.
Diogo Morgado, Roma Downey, Greg Hicks, Simon Kunz.
Directed by Christopher Spencer.

Son of God has been edited for cinema release around the world from the 2013 mini-series, The Bible. In this miniseries, there were five episodes focusing on the gospel stories, a total of 200 minutes in all. An hour has been taken out of the mini-series. In the 1970s, Franco Zeffirelli’s Jesus of Nazareth was a miniseries that ran for more than seven hours and was also edited for cinema release to 135 minutes. Both films look very good on the big screen.

The film opens with the apostle, John, in old age in exile on the island of Patmos. He quotes the prologue to the gospel and what we see is a brief collage of the key Old Testament stories, taken from the miniseries. Then, at the end, there is a return to Patmos and John, reflecting on his experience, sees the risen Lord and he and Jesus speaks some quotations from the Book of Revelation.
One of the questions facing Christian audiences is whether they want to see yet another Jesus film or whether they have strong memories of previous films, of Pasolini, of Zeffirelli, of the 1999 Jesus with Jeremy Sisto or The Passion of the Christ. Another question is how literally the audience wants to understand some of the episodes, especially the miracles of Jesus as well as the Infancy Narratives. In this version, they are presented fairly literally – with the touch of special effects for Jesus walking on the water and the miraculous basket of multiplied fishes, the healing of Malchus’ ear and the rending of the Temple at the time of Jesus’ death.

There is, of course, a problem in the selection of episodes and because this version has only 45 minutes before the Palm Sunday procession, the selection is particularly limited. In the synopsis for the television version, there is mention of the temptations in the desert and the baptism of Jesus but these do not appear, except for a glimpse of the baptism during the final credits. There is no Cana miracle, very few parables (The Pharisee and the Public and The Mustard Seed only), comparatively few of the many encounters of Jesus. Pilate does not say “Here is the man” and Jesus does not urge Mary Magdalene to let go of him after the resurrection.

There are several miracles, including that of the paralytic let down through the roof as well as the raising of Lazarus and the healing of Malchus in Gethsemane.

When we see a gospel film, we have our own image of Jesus which may not go well with the actor, his appearance, his screen presence, his speaking voice. In this film is an actor, born in Portugal, age 32 while making the film, Diogo Morgado, who actually looks younger than 32 and has the touch of a healthy Californian surfie, which may or may not detract from his impact. Without the baptism and temptation sequence, Jesus immediately strides into Capernaum, encounters Peter and immediately goes out on the boat with him for the large catch a fish and his promise that Peter will have a new life. There are some reminders of Jeffrey Hunter, his appearance and speaking in 1961’s King of King’s, sometimes stilted, but Diogo Morgado does have more vitality. But, for much of the film, he has to suffer, undergo the passion and the crucifixion.

While Mary appears briefly in a sequence with the Magi, again very literally, she reappears for the Passion, watching the scourging with Mary Magdalene, aghast at the appearance of Jesus and his wounds, hurrying to him on the way of the cross with a special encounter with him as he falls to the ground. There are not so many people at the foot of the cross and she comes very close, hearing Jesus commit her to John and John to her. There is a touching Pieta with Mary Magdalene looking on and John removing the crown of thorns. While she is absent from the Upper Room and the Ascension sequence, there is a final song over the credits dedicated to her.

The other important thing about watching a Jesus film is comparing our memories of the texts and our imagining of particular episodes with what we see on screen. If a gospel film works well, there will be many ah- ha moments when we see or hear something which has not occurred to us before.

And that is one of the values of seeing this film.

Making a list of moments noticed, there is Jesus preaching the parable of the mustard seed when interrupted by the paralysed man lowered down through the roof – and Jesus affectionate kiss after healing him. In the version of John 8 and the woman taken in adultery, Jesus has a stone and challenges anyone who has not sinned to take his stone to throw choose to. When the Pharisees are denouncing the tax collectors, especially Matthew, Jesus compassionately tells the story of The Pharisee and the Publican, looking towards Matthew who begins to weep – and finishes the parable for Jesus.

But most of the nuances come from the Passion narrative. At this point it might be well to note the influence of Mel Gibson because the Passion here has many Passion of the Christ moments, especially the scourging and the lifting up of the cross. When Jesus comes into Jerusalem on the donkey, the high priest actually quotes the prophecy from Zechariah which indicates the arrival of the Messiah. Caiaphas speaks ironically and is willing one man to die for the sake of the nation. The treatment of Judas is very interesting, with very little background, but the screenplay shows him cautious at Jesus entry into Jerusalem, suggesting to Malchus that he might be able to help, and later persuaded by Caiaphas that all he wants to do is to bring Jesus to him for a private meeting, no indication of the trial or crucifixion, though Judas is not about asking for a benefit and then flinging it back in public to Malchus and the Pharisees. The scene of his death is far more familiar.

The Last Supper is a quieter affair, with a strong emphasis on the pitta bread and the cup of wine, highlighting the symbolic presence. Unfortunately, there is no washing of the feet. but one interesting aspect is that after Judas receives the bread and is advised by Jesus to go out, he starts to choke and spits out the bread in the street.

The trials of Jesus before Annas and Caiaphas are comparatively small with few people present. A key presence, however, is that of Nicodemus who had been observing Jesus, urging Caiaphas to be careful and cautious, but going to visit Jesus just before the passion and hearing him speak about being reborn. Nicodemus is present at the trials but does not vote for Jesus’ death. After Jesus death, and in the anointing and burial, he recites a prayer in Hebrew.

There has been a build-up to the presence of Pilate, a rough and ready Governor, cruel in getting the soldiers to remove a cart which kills a little boy. And his wife, Claudia, is wary of the condemnation of Jesus. As in the Gospels, there is the offer of freedom for Jesus or Barabbas. Barabbas has also appeared earlier, listening to Jesus and observing him encounter the Pharisees in rendering to Caesar what is Caesar’s…, and the sequences where Caiaphas and the priests confront Pilate and the crowd frenzy demands Jesus crucifixion. These sequences are well done and are particularly strong.

As Jesus goes towards his cross, he runs his hand over it and, seemingly in veneration, kisses it. When Jesus is dying, there are several scenes in the Temple with the high priest of the Passover lambs being slaughtered.


Mary Magdalene, who is presented as an ordinary disciple with no overtones of a sinner, is presented strongly at the crucifixion and at the resurrection, although Jesus’ appearance near the tomb is rather fuzzy, though the hole in his hand for Thomas’s benefit and for the final blessing is very distinctive. One of the interesting touches is that Peter, on the news of Jesus being risen, invites all those in the upper room to take the bread and wine in a Eucharistic celebration. And when Peter, ashamed of his denial and thinking he could not be forgiven, sees Jesus come into the upper room, Jesus put his hand on his head in a sign of blessing and forgiveness.

The scene of the Ascension is not so well done, a tableau of scattered disciples watching Jesus leave.
One of the blurbs chosen for marketing this film states that this is the best Jesus film and there will never be a better one. Obviously, that is not true, and the hyperbole does little good for the reputation of the film which, with its various limitations, is a sincere effort and will probably make an impact on many viewers.

SONG FOR A RAGGY BOY

5th April 2004

Song for a Raggy Boy is one of several Irish films, made in 2001-3, on themes of physical and sexual abuse in the Irish Catholic Church. They include The Magdalene Sisters, Sinners, Evelyn, Conspiracy of Silence.

Audiences who regret the dramatisation of Catholic scandals on screen will be upset by these films. The films can be seen, however, as a necessary part of people's coming to terms with abusive behaviour by official church personnel, an acknowledgement that it occurred and had lifelong damaging effect on victims, that compassion was sometimes slow in coming from the authorities and that alarm led to slowness or reluctance in dealing with abuse. This is part of the church's examination of conscience concerning revelations about what has occurred in recent decades. Patrick Galvin, author of the novel on which the film is based, spoke about the effect of writing the book and of collaborating on the film as an 'exorcism' of the past for himself. Often the victims want only an acknowledgement by the church and the perpetrators that these events happened.

This film is set in 1939 in a school reformatory for boys, some younger than twelve, managed by the local bishop with a priest in charge and staffed by brothers. The brother-prefect is a stern disciplinarian who resorts to excessive physical punishment and humiliation of the boys. One brother is a sexual abuser. There is only one sequence of sexual abuse, visually reticent, but all the more horrendous because of this. It is a disturbing reminder of the reality of such abuse, the pathology of the brother and, particularly, the pain of the reluctant victim who speaks of this in the confessional and is advised to keep what has happened to him to himself.

The physical abuse is alarmingly violent and, dramatically, over the top. Many older Catholics, however, will have stories of these kinds of punishment. For the sake of the narrative, they are put together in a hundred minute film which can give an impression that this was the sole way of dealing with problems.

Song for a Raggy Boy, like the other Irish films (and the presentation of dominant clergy in such films as Ryan's Daughter, The Butcher Boy or Lamb) asks pertinent questions about the severity of the Irish Church, the collaboration with the state in running institutions of correction (and using the same methods of discipline and punishment that were prevalent in those times in state and other institutions) and the screening and training of clergy and religious.

Older Catholics and members of religious congregations can attest that in those decades, and even up to the 1960s, training was often very harsh, a formation in subduing the will by self-denial and severe and penitential practices that led to a sometimes morbid spirituality. The renewal in religious congregations asked for by the Second Vatican Council was intended as a rediscovery of the original Gospel spirituality of the founders with a consequent spiritual, moral and psychological maturity. Processes of healing of memories have been encouraged. This film is a reminder that religious men who entered an order in their mid teens and underwent this kind of formation absorbed it and saw it as the pattern for their ministry in schools but applied it sometimes in unconscious compensation for their lack of emotional development.

Actor, Iain Glenn, who portrays the sadistic Brother John, is quoted as using this kind of background to understand how his character could act in the way that he is portrayed.

It should be noted that there is a sympathetic older brother, played by Dudley Sutton, and a superior who wants change and compassion but who has learned to live with the limitations imposed by authoritarian superiors.

This is not to say that the film is joyless - a comment made on The Magdalene Sisters. In fact, the model for the film is the genre of dedicated teacher (Dead Poets Society, Dangerous Minds, The Emperor's Club, Mona Lisa Smile) who comes in to share a passion for their subject (here English and Irish language and poetry), educates students and transforms them as well as challenging the status quo. Aidan Quinn is William Franklyn, a veteran of the Spanish Civil War, who is the first lay teacher in St Jude's school.

Critical comment on the film has been quite varied. It has been invited to several festivals, from Karlovy Vary to Hong Kong. Many critics, who are not aware of the realities underlying the plot, have dismissed it (and laughed at it) as over-dramatic, even hysterical. Those who know the issues from the inside may agree that the violence shown, especially towards the end, is too much for the drama to be fully effective, but will find much in the film that speaks to their experience, much to reflect on.

Post-script: Catholics will notice quite a number of erroneous details, from vestments and selection of religious pictures to thinking that brothers are ordained. Advice from a technical adviser would have quickly remedied these details.

SPOTLIGHT

10th of December 2015



Since its screening in competition in Venice, 2015, and its subsequent screenings at various festivals, then award nominations, including several for Best Film of 2015, the reputation of Spotlight has grown. For the statement by the SIGNIS Jury in Venice, see below.

It is primarily a film about investigative journalism, the work of the Boston Globe in 2001. Memories of this kind of film go back to 1976 and the Watergate exposé in All the Presidents Men. At the same time as the release of Spotlight, there was a very powerful film on investigative journalism that is well worth seeing, Truth, about the NBC investigation of George W. Bush’s going into the National Guard to avoid service in Vietnam – showing the detail of investigation but also highlighting the need for consistent verification otherwise the investigation is not credible.

The Boston Globe’s investigation focused on sexual abuse, clergy and survivors. This means that it is a film of particular Catholic interest. Cardinal Sean O’ Malley, Archbishop of Boston and a member of the papal committee on sexual abuse, wrote a statement in October, acknowledging the realities of abuse in the church, acknowledging that the film treats an important subject. Again, see below.

There have been films on clerical sexual abuse since 1990, quite a number, documentaries and feature films. They have been serving as a contribution to an examination of conscience by the church, an acknowledgement of realities for victims and survivors, a critique of the behaviour of church authorities, the need for a recognition of sinfulness in the church. And, in their ways, they have contributed to a better, even wiser, understanding.

Reviews of Spotlight have been very favourable. The screenplay, co-written by Josh Singer and the director, Thomas Mc Carthy, is carefully and strongly written. Performances are quite powerful. The film keeps audience interest. The four journalists in the Spotlight investigative team are played by Michael Keaton, Mark Ruffalo, Rachel Mc Adams, Brian d’Arcy James. At one stage it emerges that each of the four was Catholic educated but no longer practising, some “pissed off” at the church and one of them, after reading the documents, saying that he had hoped to return to the church, but now… There is of course, a sad emotional impact, audiences identifying with the journalists in their quest, disgust at the stories that are revealed, compassion for those who have suffered.

One of the difficulties about the film is its setting in 2001. Because the film is focused on Boston and the Spotlight team who undertake the investigation, the film gives an impression, a kind of American triumphalism, that it was the Boston Globe which was the first to do this kind of investigation. In many ways, the American church was slow off the mark in acting (admitted by the journalists in the film), while investigations were under way, led by Canada, and making progress in such countries as the UK, Ireland, Australia, in the first half of the 1990s. Investigations in European countries came later. A government enquiry in Ireland was to be inaugurated not so many years after the work of the Boston Globe. In Australia, the documents Towards Healing (and the Melbourne Response) were launched at the end of 1996.

It is interesting to note that there is little or no reference to the police and their enquiries into complaints about sexual abuse. There is no discussion of reporting to the police. Investigations preceded the Spotlight investigations because Father Geoghan was arrested the same month as the first article appeared in the Boston Globe.

Reference is made in the screenplay of Spotlight to material being sent to the paper as early as 1993 and then in 1996 but the paper did not follow through at the time. The Boston story, according to the film, went into action with the appointment of the new editor, Marty Baron, who had noticed a column about offender Father John Geoghan and suggested to his team that it needed following up, asking about knowledge by the hierarchy, including Cardinal Bernard Law, and an investigation that would expose any systematic faults, rather than an attack on individual church hierarchy.

There had been a film, Our Fathers, 2005, where there was a focus on Boston victims of abuse, their telling their stories, the work of lawyers, encounters of some of the victims with the perpetrators, and meetings with Cardinal Law who was played by Christopher Plummer. Spotlight has very few images of priests themselves, concentrating on interviews with the survivors with their harrowing stories. There is a brief prologue in 1976, complaints against Father Geoghan, the child, parents, and a reassuring priest helping the family, suggestions that information was given to the hierarchy but not followed on up, highlighting the transfer of offending priests from one parish to another.

In fact, the main priest in this film is Cardinal Law himself, receiving Marty Baron in his house, offering to collaborate with the media, Baron assuring him of the independence of the press, and the Cardinal giving him a gift of the Catholic Catechism. He is also related glimpsed as a Catholic Charities function. But, there is a great deal of talk about him, what he knew and what he didn’t know about abusive priests, the considerable number, his working in-house on cases, working with various lawyers for settlements and their keeping all this information confidential. The documents were sealed and it is only when the Boston Globe intervenes that a judge allows them to be released. A letter written by one of the auxiliary bishops of Boston years earlier, maintaining secrecy and confidentiality, becomes part of the screenplay.

There is one priest in the film, Father Richard Paquin, who lives with his sister in retirement, interviewed by a journalist – who admits to her the truth of his experience with the boys but emphasises several times that he got no gratification from the experiences. One of the journalists discovers to his horror that his house is not very far from one of the houses designated for treatment of priests. At the end he is seen delivering a big number of papers with the article at this house.

As has been mentioned, more vivid pictures of the priests emerge from the interviews with the survivors, with the head of the organisation, SNAP (Survivor’s Network of those Abused by Priests), Paul Saviano who had sent material to the paper in 1996 and felt frustrated at their lack of action. Listening to his description of his own experiences, his age, the grooming, the process of trust, leading to the physical, sexual and psychological abuse, makes the point very strongly. An interview with an awkward man, groomed by Father Shanley who was later arrested, highlights once again grooming, the use of pornography, nudity and sexual gratification for a young boy who is discovering his homosexual orientation. A third man, Patrick, explains the process of the priest singling him out, the affirmation felt, and then the touch and his freezing, and the abuse. The drug scars in his arm are quite evident.

The sequences of interviews are possibly stronger in their impact, the audience listening to the words and seeing the body language of the survivors, than if there were visuals of the abuse.

The work of the investigative team is meticulous, painstakingly followed through over a very long period, checking sources, persuading interviewees to speak and be recorded, checking clips from the vast archives of Globe, trolleys and folders of them, searching in the Catholic Directories of these years and discovering so many priests listed as sick or absent or on leave. The journalists were able to make a list of 87 clergy through this method of discovery. (In 2011, Cardinal O’ Malley made public the release of a list of offending clergy in Boston, their names, 159 of them.) Emotionally, the audience is invited to identify with the journalists. The targets of their research tend to be seen as villains, especially when the verification is clinched, the ‘Gotcha’ moments.

In the film, there are many sequences where the journalists make contact with lawyers handling victims cases, knowing that there was a great deal of confidentiality, but continually checking with them as more information became available. It is one of the Catholic lawyers who had been defending the Church’s silence who is finally overwhelmed by what has been uncovered and, emotionally reluctant, does indicate the truth about the list of abusive priests.

One of the experts over many decades is the former priest, Richard Sipe, who has written extensively on these issues. His book becomes one of the sources for information and for the journalists to try to understand the mentality of the abusers, issues of infantile sexuality, sexual orientation, issues of clerical celibacy. He becomes a character in the film, voiced by actor Richard Jenkins, in a number of phone interviews.

Cardinal Law was transferred to Rome at the end of 2002. The film also lists a number of places and countries where abuse has taken place. In 2002, the American Catholic Bishops Conference affirmed a policy of zero tolerance in abuse cases.


Statement of the Jury - Venice Film Festival - Spotlight

SIGNIS Jury, Venice Film Festival, 2015.

When director Tom Mc Carthy’s “Spotlight” premiered at the Venice Film Festival on September 3 it received a prolonged standing ovation. The film stars Michael Keaton, Mark Ruffalo, Rachael Mc Adams, Liev Schreiber and John Slattery as the Spotlight team and publishers of the Boston Globe newspaper that successfully investigated the Catholic Archdiocese of Boston beginning in the 1990s. This investigation resulted in a series of articles in 2002 that revealed a pattern of covering up the activities of pedophile priests and hushed payoffs to dozens of child victims over many years. Stanley Tucci plays the attorney who represents the victims.

With the resignation of Cardinal Bernard Law in December 2002, some say as a result of the revelations, further investigations exposed similar crimes against children and consequent covert ways of dealing with accused priests - or not dealing with them but moving them around - in diocese after diocese in the United States, Australia, Canada, Ireland and other countries.

"Spotlight" is an engrossing film based on the actual story of journalists who tell the biggest ongoing story about the Catholic Church in this century. The two key protagonists are powerful, global institutions: the press facing off against the Catholic Church.

The investigative team of the Boston Globe received the prestigious Pulitzer Prize for Journalism for Public Service, in 2003 for their investigative journalism. In the film, the Spotlight team admits its own culpability when it ignored information going back several years about clergy sex abuse and the Church’s failure to take action to protect children.

"Spotlight" is a straightforward and unadorned film that avoids exploiting the story. Some critics feel it is more the quality of television than cinema.

Nevertheless, the enduring importance of “Spotlight” will reinforce the work that the Boston Globe did between 1999 and 2002 in calling the Catholic Church, including the Vatican, to transparency and responsibility for how it dealt with clergy who sexually abused children and what policies the Church would put in place to prevent abuse in the future and to bring the guilty to justice.

At the end of the film, before the credits, lists of parishes and dioceses where clergy abuse occurred, scroll down the screen, followed by all the countries where the scandal has spread. So perhaps the one thing missing from the film is a footnote stating that the since the 2002 articles by the Boston Globe, the U.S. Conference of Catholic Bishops has issued “ The Charter for the Protection of Children and Young People ” to prevent further child abuse and to deal with clergy that are accused of sex abuse, including possession of child pornography. Although slow in development, in 2014 Pope Francis established the Holy See’s Pontifical Commission for the Protection of Minors.

Was it necessary to make a mainstream feature film to tell the story of the committed journalists who uncovered this pattern of deep scandal in the Catholic Church? Because the problem of sex abuse by Roman Catholic clergy continues in the United States and in other countries around the world and victims continue to seek justice, “Spotlight” is a film that challenges the Catholic Church to be the moral leader it claims to be. With this film, cinema and journalism are indeed prophetic gifts for the Catholic Church.


Cardinal O’ Malley’s full statement on Spotlight as it appeared in The Pilot :

The Spotlight film depicts a very painful time in the history of the Catholic Church in the United States and particularly here in the Archdiocese of Boston. It is very understandable that this time of the film’s release can be especially painful for survivors of sexual abuse by clergy.

The media’s investigative reporting on the abuse crisis instigated a call for the Church to take responsibility for its failings and to reform itself—to deal with what was shameful and hidden—and to make the commitment to put the protection of children first, ahead of all other interests.

We have asked for and continue to ask for forgiveness from all those harmed by the crimes of the abuse of minors. As Archbishop of Boston I have personally met with hundreds of survivors of clergy abuse over the last twelve years, hearing the accounts of their sufferings and humbly seeking their pardon. I have been deeply impacted by their histories and compelled to continue working toward healing and reconciliation while upholding the commitment to do all that is possible to prevent harm to any child in the future.

The Archdiocese of Boston is fully and completely committed to zero tolerance concerning the abuse of minors. We follow a vigorous policy of reporting and disclosing information concerning allegations of abuse. Any suspected case of abuse should be reported to civil authorities and to the Office of Pastoral Support and Outreach


Other STATEMENTS on Abuse:

Since 2002,SIGNIS has published statements on several films concerning clerical sexual abuse:

Song for a Raggy Boy (2003);
Mal Education/ Bad Education (2004)
Our Fathers (2005)
Deliver us from Evil (2006)
X Files: I Want to Believe (2008)
Doubt (2008)
Oranges and Sunshine (2011)
Mea Maxima Culpa: Silence in the House of God (2013)
Calvary (2014)

To find these Statements, Google Peter Malone’s Website and scroll down to SIGNIS STATEMENTS.

For a background to films on clerical sexual abuse, two articles, one from 2005, the other from 2015, are found at the end of the SIGNIS STATEMENTS.

SIGNIS STATEMENT, November 17th 2019


THE TWO POPES

UK/Argentina/Italy/US, 2019, 125 minutes, Colour.
Jonathan Pryce, Anthony Hopkins, Juan Minujin.
Directed by Fernando Meirelles.


There are many reasons, good reasons, to see The Two Popes. Some of them are worth noting before the consideration of religious themes.

• First of all, there is the articulate and elegant writing by British screenwriter, Anthony McCarten?, who was responsible for the screenplays of The Theory of Everything, a portrait of Stephen Hawking, The Darkest Hour, a portrait of wartime Winston Churchill, Bohemian Rhapsody, a portrait of Freddie Mercury and Queen. He has done his research on Pope Benedict and Pope Francis, drawing on many of their statements as well as using his imagination to create conversations between them. The screenplay is both serious and funny, in English, Spanish, touches of German, Latin, and a significant component of God-language.

• Then there are the performances, two fine actors, Anthony Hopkins a credible Benedict XVI, a ‘behind the scenes’ performance Jonathan Pryce a vigorous Francis. The film has a fine Brazilian director, Fernando Meirelles, whose films include City of God, The Constant Gardener, Blindness – and the opening of the 2016 Rio Olympic Games.

• And the look of the film is strikiing, the stylish photography, the Vatican settings, the 2005 conclave, the Sistine Chapel, the papal apartments, St Peter’s and the Piazza, the Cardinals staying at Santa Marta, avisit to Castel Gandolfo. By contrast, the film brings Buenos Aires alive, first of all in the 21st-century, the outdoors ministry of Cardinal Bergoglio, then black and white flashbacks to his younger years, his vocation decisions, and then a dramatisation of the drastic years of the Generals, especially in the 1970s.

• There are also some surprises with the musical score, not just the expected serious and religious themes, some classical music, but a number of more contemporary songs, creating atmosphere as well as some touches of irony.

Some articles about the film indicate that it is principally conversation between the two popes, their meetings in 2005, Cardinal Bergoglio’s visit to the Vatican in 2012 to persuade the Pope that he should resign as Archbishop of Buenos Aires. While this is at the core of the film, there is a great deal more.

• Some of the issues that the conversations highlight include the stances of each of them concerning belief and doctrine, the traditional teachings of the church, contemporary moral issues. Part of the drama is that they do not see eye to eye on some of these issues, the difficulties of combining authority and tradition with pastoral demands. But, as indicated earlier, there is quite a deal of God-language, discussions about faith and prayer, the two men devout, a confession sequence, Benedict to Francis, which takes the film beyond ordinary dialogue.

It will be interesting after the film’s release, in cinemas first and then on Netflix, making it more immediately available all around the world, to hear the comments of those who favour John Paul II’s and Pope Benedict’s perceptions of the church compared with those who tend, enthusiastically, to favour Pope Francis and his evangelisation outreach. The differences between the two popes are made quite clear early in the film but, as they converse, with strong initial tensions, as they get to know each other, listen to each other’s stories, prepare the way for Benedict’s resignation and its consequences, there is a great deal more in the meeting of minds and hearts.

• Because the film is very sympathetic to Pope Francis (not neglecting the criticisms of him when he was Jesuit provincial in Argentina and was seen to side too much with the authorities), the portrait of him is more extensive than that of Pope Benedict. As indicated, we are taken back quite extensively to Cardinal Bergoglio’s life, black-and-white photography of him as a young man, searching for his vocation, a recurring image of him sitting alone in the mountains reflecting, the possibility for marriage, his choices and entry into the seminary (filmed in black and white). Audiences who might not be fully aware of the controversy about Bergoglio and the generals, his turn as provincial wanting to protect the lives of the Jesuits, asking them to close some of their ministries because they were considered too dangerous, some defiance and him on the part of social-minded, confreres, will find this section of the film quite arresting. But, there are sequences enabling Cardinal Bergoglio to admit mistakes publicly, to be sorry for the decisions that he had made, to reconcile with some of his conferences. These experiences enable him, as Archbishop of Buenos Aires to reach out to the poor.

• The Bergoglio who emerges from these sequences is an educated man, a religious leader, a man who admits mistakes, who is transformed into a social-minded pastor, an extrovert who is comfortable in meeting all kinds of people, enjoying their company (especially in supporting his football team, San Lorenzo), familiar with aspects of popular culture. (An amusing episode occurs where Benedict tells Francis that his piano CD was made it Abbey Road leads to a talk about the Beatles!)

• By contrast, there is no visual portrait of Benedict’s life. There are verbal references, and his saying that he was more introverted, bookish, intellectual, and had not any of the pastoral outreach of the Bergoglio. (Audiences may well enjoy a sequence where the two are in a side sacristy of the Sistine Chapel, tourists arriving, Benedict’s decision for the two to walk through the Chapel, the tourists becoming excited – and a number of selfies!).

And so, the film and its narrative are multi-layered.

• The narrative goes back to the death of John Paul II and the preparations for the subsequent conclave, sequences of Cardinals discussing with each other, the possibility of Cardinal Bergoglio being elected, Cardinal Martini of Milan advising colleagues not to vote for him, Cardinal Ratzinger seemingly eager enough to become Pope. There is a dramatic tension in the conclave – the details of some of the voting, the black smoke, the white smoke, the emergence of Benedict, and Cardinal Bergoglio going back home, but seemingly steady pontificate.

• Towards the end of the film there will be the 2013 conclave, the discussions, the assembly, the voting, the acceptance – and Francis not wanting special shoes, not wanting the ermine cape (“the carnival is over”), emerging to the cheering crowds and simply saying, “Buena Sera” (good evening).

Audiences interested in the contrast between the approaches of Benedict and Francis will find these sequences illustrating the different points of view, the needs of the church in the 21st-century, the issue of clear guidance and authority compared with a more horizontal metaphor of the church rather than the hierarchical pyramid, pastoral needs and evangelisation.

• Which means then that involved Catholics, with faith and loyalty, will find this two hour immersion into the life of the church of great interest, of encouragement. For nominal Catholics, the film offers an occasion, even an invitation, to more thought and assessment, re-assessment. It will be the same for lapsed Catholics. For ecumenical and interfaith audiences, the drama is both attractive and thought-provoking. And for non-religious audiences, they will appreciate good drama, good writing and performances, character studies – and an opportunity to give further thought to the credibility, life and mission of the Catholic Church.

But, audiences will have two, at least, aspects of conversation about the film.

• Questions arise, as they have done during the two pontificates, about tradition and openness of the church. Vatican II was about opening the windows and renewal and updating. John Paul II was committed to doctrinal orthodoxy but also to extensive world travel, showing the human, and frequently genial, face of the church. Benedict, had to move out of his preference for reserve, and continue John Paul II’s two aspects of church life, authority as well as the human face. With Francis, and this is very strongly highlighted in the film, the tradition is important but the pastoral interpretation of tradition is the great challenge, the realities of evangelisation in the contemporary world, pastors and their having “the smell of the sheep”.

• Most most audiences will enjoy the way these emphases are illustrated, from his whistling Abba’s Dancing Queen (which actually is also used in the background as the fully robed Cardinals enter the Sistine Chapel for the conclave!), some Latin American musical background, Pope Francis trying to book a ticket to Lampedusa online and failing (the film actually opening and closing with this episode), buying pizza in a shop near the Vatican (and later persuading a Vatican authority to go out and get some takeaway pizza for himself and Benedict to enjoy), Francis and his TV football watching, his jokes. Benedict does not always get them, then realises that they are jokes – and, amusingly, when he himself makes a joke, not so funny, he tells Francis that this was a German joke and German jokes are not meant to be funny! So, the human face, the humour.

In these senses, The Two Popes might be seen as an exercise in evangelisation to the world in the Francis’ mode.

• At the core of the conversation is Benedict’s resignation. There is a dramatic buildup in so far as Cardinal Bergoglio travels to the Vatican, continually tries to persuade Benedict to accept his resignation. Because of the differences in perspective between the two, Benedict says that the resignation might be interpreted as a criticism of Benedict’s direction of the church. So, there is much discussion to illustrate the different perceptions of each of the men.

• However, with the issues of mismanagement in the Vatican bank, with the pressures of being Pope, Benedict’s advancing age, he turns the tables and shocks Bergoglio with the news that he wants to resign. Interesting that Bergoglio thinks that this is impossible, unthinkable. But, audiences will find fascinating this dramatising of the two points of view, the continuing conversations, Benedict reasoning, Francis’s change of mind – with a wry observation put in Benedict’s mouth that the papal successor usually acts as a corrective to the previous Pope and he will be glad to be alive to see his corrective! There are several mentions that rather than compromise, well-considered change is preferable.

• The bonds between the two men and increasing mutual understanding prepare them for the actual resignation, the amazement throughout the world, the next conclave (and a scene where Benedict watches the white smoke on television in the papal apartment), the emergence of Francis.

The film then takes the advantage of quoting Francis’s words of social concern, his first trip outside the Vatican to Lampedusa to meet refugees who had sailed across the Mediterranean from North Africa, images of small boats and overwhelming waves, the faces of those in need. To that extent, the ending is venture into preaching, social preaching.

Given the significance of the two Popes themselves, the papacy in the Catholic Church at the beginning of the 21st-century, the continued dialogue between tradition and pastoral outreach, the questions of what the Catholic Church should be and will be, The Two Popes is certainly worth watching – and watching again.

VERA DRAKE

13th September 2004

Vera Drake, a film by Mike Leigh, won the Golden Lion at the 61st Venice Film Festival. This British film won a further boost when Imelda Staunton was named as Best Actress.

When it screened halfway through the festival, headlines appeared: a film about abortion. The presumption seemed to be that Vera Drake was 'pro-abortion'. A potential scandal makes for ready copy. This continued in most of the reporting about the film and its awards. The buzz about Vera Drake being a front-runner for the big award led to speculation about how the Catholic Church would respond. Italian journalists are said to have a reputation for being critical of the church, if not stridently anti-clerical at times, so this would provide a field day.

In the event this did not happen, although the members of the Catholic jury for the SIGNIS award (for the World Catholic Association for Communication) were alerted to the sensitivity of the situation.

Two factors contributed to a more intelligent discussion of the film. First was the film itself. Mike Leigh is a master film-maker. He has won awards in Cannes for Naked and his very moving, Secrets and Lies. Other films include the Gilbert and Sullivan portrait, Topsy Turvey as well as the picture of very ordinary London life, All or Nothing. Vera Drake is in the All or Nothing tradition. Vera Drake is a fifty year old housewife in North London in 1950. She is generous to a fault. Nothing is too much trouble for her. Everyone says she has a heart of gold. She is the proverbial good woman. The first half of the film is a moving portrait of this woman whom Imelda Staunton's performance makes memorable.

Without any lead in we are shown how she also performs syringe abortions for women and girls 'in need'. She has done this for twenty years or more. Her family know nothing about it. When one girl suffers complications, hospital authorities inform the police and Vera is subject to questioning and arrest.

The second factor for discussion was Mike Leigh's press conference. He was quick to point out that his films treat social issues but never provide unequivocal answers. He provides the equivalent of a case study (something like what seminarians explored in the past during their moral theology course). Leigh noted that, while we bring our own agenda to the story, we are invited to consider a wider range of perspectives. It is not simply, or simplistically, moral judgment by unnuanced application of moral principles. Catholic confessional practice has traditionally urged for more delicacy of conscience and a greater appreciation of what full knowledge and full consent mean in the context of responsibility for actions and for sin. Leigh said that some audiences would view Vera as a saint, committed to assisting women; others would see her as a monster, destroying lives.

Most audiences hurry out as soon as final credits roll. For those who stay, they will see that Leigh dedicates his film to his parents, a doctor and a midwife.

The difficulty with labelling a film 'about abortion' is that this merely tells us the subject, or one of the subjects, of the film. The Biblical story of David and Bathsheba is about adultery and murder but that is just a labelling description. What we need to know is 'how' these issues are presented. This is the criterion for a moral evaluation of a film. This means, as a correspondent for Vatican Radio was reported as saying on air during the Venice Festival, that Leigh's film is ‘difficult and interesting’ and ‘avoids propaganda and tentative and facile conclusions’. Catholic teaching has always urged the faithful to condemn the sin but not the sinner. Leigh's portrait of Vera Drake contributes to that way of looking at her despite what she does.

A post-script on Mar Adentro, The Sea Within.

A helpful comparison with the approach of Vera Drake to its moral issues could be made with Alejandro Amenabar's film, Mar Adentro (The Sea Inside) for which Javier Bardem was named as Best Actor for his role as a long-time quadriplegic pleading for assisted suicide.

This is a beautiful, classical and often lyrical film to watch. Once again, it can be seen as a case study. However, the tone is often propaganda-like in its presentation of the plea for legislation to be changed and the emotional reasons for assisting someone incapacitated to die. This is quite clear in a final scene where Ramon, the quadriplegic, drinks cyanide and dies. In the process of taking the drink, he speaks to a video to explain once again what he is doing and why. He has spent 28 years as a quadriplegic, entirely dependent on others. He still has vitality and has a strong capacity for friendship and encouraging others to life. However, he feels that this quadriplegic kind of life lacks dignity. This, of course, is debatable but
cannot be simplistically dismissed because we do not agree with it. The film's screenplay, in fact, provides characters who do not agree with the assisted suicide, especially his brother.

Once again journalistic headlines were not entirely accurate. Mar Adentro is not concerned with euthanasia explicitly. Its focus is on 'assisted suicide', which is not the same thing. Moral discussion is never effective when it is merely based on headlines which may or may not be correct.

There are two responses to material with which we do not agree on moral terms. One is polemic which merely repeats strongly the views that are already held. The other is dialogue, a listening to an opposing point of view with respect to see what further light is thrown on the issue in order to
find some meeting of hearts and minds.


Appendix

Posted: Sun., Oct. 17, 2004, 6:00am PT

Inside Move: Leigh pic plays both sides

'Vera' hoping to ride controversy to success

By GABRIEL SNYDER
<http://www.variety.com/index.asp?layout=bio&peopleID=2310>

With "Vera Drake," helmer Mike Leigh may have accomplished the impossible: making a film about abortion that both sides of the debate can admire.

Fine Line hopes the pic — about a homemaker and abortionist in postwar London — will be the next film to ride controversy to success, a la "The Passion of the Christ" and "Fahrenheit 9/11."

It's even enlisted pro-choice groups like NARAL and consultants who worked on "Fahrenheit," to push the pic. But so far there hasn't been any controversy. Pro-life groups, such as the U.S. Conference of Catholic Bishops, have only had positive things to say about the film.

Harry Forbes, who classifies films that are considered morally offensive for the USCCB's Office of Film & Broadcast, actually gave "Vera Drake" a
rave review.

Noting the story doesn't "proselytize for abortion," he wrote, "Leigh's script has all the subtle nuances of 'real' people reacting to a
domestic crisis." Imelda Staunton's performance, he says, "is acting of the highest order."

Forbes echoes other official Catholic voices on the film.

Shortly after "Vera Drake" won best film honors at the Venice Film Fest, World Catholic Assn. for Communication prexy Peter Malone praised the
film despite its subject matter. "It is not simply, or simplistically, moral judgment by unnuanced application of moral principles."

Staunton hasn't tried to stoke the political flames, either.

"I'm not Susan Sarandon," she told the Guardian. "I don't want to bang a drum. I think I'm just going to say, 'I'm pro-choice,' and leave it at
that."

In this shrill season, how refreshing.

SIGNIS STATEMENT: THE WAY

March 31st 2012

While The Way had early release in the United States and in the United Kingdom in 2011, it has taken some time to find release in a number of other countries.

The film has the advantage of being the work of members of Martin Sheen’s family – which is for some commentators a disadvantage. On the one hand, there is Martin Sheen’s active Catholicism and social justice concerns (even to arrests). The Catholic emphasis meant that a number of critics declared that the film was Catholic propaganda. And they did not approve of that. That point needs further consideration.

On the other, there is the headline behaviour of his son, Charlie, something which more than blew up at the time of the British release of The Way. Which gave Martin Sheen an opportunity to talk about support and forgiveness and not giving up hope. He was with his oldest son, Emilio Estevez, who was not without his own problems in the past, but who has moved on. Emilio has written and directed The Way and makes a cameo appearance.

The Way is El Camino, the pilgrim journey from the Pyranees across northern Spain to the shrine city of Santiago di Compostella and the tomb of the apostle, St James. This is a film of pilgrimage.

Pilgrimages are an important part of all major religions. Catholics have flocked to Rome, to Lourdes, Fatima and to less well-known shrines. Muslims make the Haj to Mecca. Hindu festivals abound. Buddhists from all around the world make their way to Tibet and to various Asian centres. The Wailing Wall in Jerusalem is a destination for Jews worldwide.

El Camino finds its place amongst all these pilgrimages.

Chaucer’s Canterbury Tales reminds us that not all the pilgrims are saints, some not particularly devout, with lives that are marked by vanity, violence and bawdiness. Not all pilgrimages are just prayers and piety under the guidance of a clerical chaplain. Many pilgrimages are individual or in groups, for penitence or for renewed conversion experiences.

It is the same in this film. Audiences expecting the equivalent of a documentary that emphasises the sacred are mistaken. This is a feature film for a wide audience. It is Catholic in background and culture but does not limit itself to the audience to Christians or to the converted. The focus is on a small cross-section of ‘ordinary people’ as well as inn-keepers, police, and strangers in the street. Two priests do make small appearances, one explaining some aspects of the pilgrimage, the other on the way himself, old and rather infirm but with words of wisdom.

For those who have walked el Camino, the film uses a great deal of location photography, the mountains, the open countryside, the villages, the towns and cities that they have experienced. A pleasing reminder. For those who wonder whether they should make the pilgrimage, they can see for themselves where they would walk and what it might be like. They would also see what the pilgrims do, how the walk affects them, the range of people they meet.

While the film has a running time of over two hours, the group is quite small, focusing particularly on four people.

Martin Sheen plays Tom, a middle-class, comfortable American, who has not seen eye to eye with his son, Daniel (played by Emilio Estevez). He cannot understand why his son would want to go to Spain and walk. The dialogue between them raises questions about what life is really for and about. When, very early in the film, news comes that Daniel has died at the beginning of his pilgrimage, his father decides to go to Spain. He further decides to go on pilgrimage himself and to scatter Daniel’s ashes at significant spots along the way.

For older audiences, Tom is a character to identify with, even when they disapprove of some of his attitudes and behaviour towards others. He comes to realise his life so far has been only a stage of his own pilgrimage and now he has the opportunity to re-assess it and change, continually reflecting on his son’s approach to life (with some imaginary sequences where Daniel appears during his father’s walk). It is also the three people that keep crossing paths with him until he eventually joins with them that are catalysts for his re-examination of his life.

Yorick Van Wagenining plays a heavy-set Dutchman who says that his motivation is to lose weight for his wife’s sake and to be ready to celebrate a family wedding. Nothing particularly religious about his reasons for being in Spain. Debora Kara Unger is a Canadian woman, rather intense and private, who smokes heavily but declares that she will give up when she reaches Compostella. A personal ascetical motive rather than religious. The group is joined by a boisterous Irish author, played by James Nesbitt, who is suffering from writer’s block but hopes, in a neo-Chaucerian way, that he will be inspired by the pilgrim stories.

As can be seen, the pilgrims do not express themselves very much in explicitly religious terms or in Christian or Catholic terms. While the Catholic and religious perspectives underlie the journey for Tom and the two priest cameos do make some themes explicit, the film is geared towards a wider audience as a thoughtful entertainment rather than propaganda – but, obviously, Martin Sheen and Emilio Estevez have a high regard for El Camino and what making such a pilgrimage can achieve within a person.

Emilio Estevez offers a film of wide appeal, more for adults than younger audiences, which is meant to be in both religious and humanistic terms, ‘inspirational’.

THE X FILES: I WANT TO BELIEVE

2008

This is a ‘stand-alone’ film deriving from the extremely popular TV series which ran for nine years were simply a reasonably entertaining murder thriller with psychic overtones.

Needless to say (but still saying it), fans of the series will want to see this story no matter what. Whether they will be happy that, while Mulder and Scully (David Duchovny and Gillian Anderson) are centre-screen, this is not a film about FBI or government paranoia and mysterious aliens. It is a here-on-earth investigation of disappearances and a grim conspiracy that has to do with medical practice and malpractice.

Scully is now a doctor at a Catholic hospital and concerned about a young boy with a rare and deteriorating brain disease and whether he should be permitted to die or to undergo a number of radical and untested surgical procedures. Mulder, by contrast, is living, more or less, as a hermit. Scully is asked to bring him back for an FBI investigation which involves a former priest (Billy Connolly) who claims to have visions about the case. Mulder, with his keen intuitions about intuitions becomes interested. Scully is the rationalist, the sceptic. The FBI (Amanda Peet and Alvin ‘Xzibit’ Joiner) are on the side of the sceptics but keep getting drawn into the search for the missing women.

The surgery issue (and stem cell research) is intercut with the investigation, making the two issues closely connected in themes, especially about the efforts to prolong life. Mulder pursues the hunches and leads to a final confrontation. Scully has to question her presuppositions and the possibilities that there could be more realities than those that science allows. This centres on the truth or fakery of what psychics say and do. The film takes great interest in what advertising says is ‘supernatural’ (which it is not because that is the area of grace) but which, to be technical, is ‘preternatural’, experiences beyond the normal.

Set in a wintry West Virginia (though filmed in Canadian mountain locations), the film has action and chases but it also has a great deal of discussion about issues.

Scully works at a Catholic hospital where the Board is headed by Fr Ybarra (Adam Godley). The film makes him a very serious character and, from Scully’s point of view, quite unsympathetic, especially in discussing the decision about whether to go ahead with the boy’s surgery. This is dramatised in Scully’s discussions with Fr Ybarra, with the boy’s parents and their decision not to go ahead with the operations as well as in her impassioned speeches at the Board meeting where the hospital management support the decision against the surgery.

The screenplay introduces stem cell research since the surgery requires results from such research. In fact, the screenplay does not speak about stem cells from embryos or adult stem cells. And, in further fact, when the malpractice at the centre of the mystery and experimentation with dogs and with humans is exposed, the audience’s emotional response is against what is, as expected, characterised as the work of a ‘modern Dr Frankenstein’.

It can be added that nuns appear in the hospital but the producers have not checked out what contemporary nuns in hospitals actually do, whether they walk in solemn pairs down corridors or what they wear in terms of habits modified from older days – this presentation of nuns is over thirty years out of date.

Writer-director Chris Carter, who created the original series, says that his story ‘involves the difficulties in mediating faith and science’. This involves talk about belief in God or non-belief, Scully ‘cursing God’ for allowing children to be born with fatal diseases. Mulder, somewhat off-handedly but seriously, asks her whether she thinks God is unable to sleep because of this. Mulder is open to faith beyond the senses, at least. The title of the film, taken from a poster used in the series and shown here in his room, states in capital letters, ‘I WANT TO BELIEVE’.

Billy Connolly plays a former priest, Fr Joe, a convicted paedophile, with quite some restraint instead of his sometime over-the-top style, is a convicted paedophile priest, guilty of penetration of 37 of his altar boys.
Derogatory remarks are made about Fr Joe. Scully is particularly antagonistic and judgmental and Mulder makes a few of his offhand sardonic remarks about the priest. But the screenplay is actually leading its audiences into some more serious reflection on these issues and the consequences.

Fr Joe has been suspended from his priestly functions and lives in an institution for offenders. He experiences psychic ‘visions’, stating that he did not ask for them but that God had given them to him. It seems to be an opportunity for him to make some kind of atonement for what he has done. The question of what attitudes people should take towards offenders is a key one. By the end of the film, with some complications about the identity of the central criminal in terms of being one of Fr Joe’s victims – and some ‘mystical’ connections made between deaths and the saving of lives – this introduction of a paedophile priest is not a mere opportunistic device but something more substantial. It seems that underlying the character of Fr Joe in an X Files story we can find some of these deep issues.

THE YOUNG MESSIAH

UK, 2016, 110 minutes, Colour.
Adam Greaves- Neal, Sean Bean, David Bradley, Jonathan Bailey, Rory Keenan, David Burke, Christian Mc Kay, Isabelle Adriani, Jane Laportaire, Vincent Walsh, Sara Lazzaro, Finn Ireland.

There is an unusual film phenomenon at the opening of 2016. Two films, Scripture-based, but imaginative interpretations of Gospel events.

Since 2000, have been many religious films, success attributed to Mel Gibson’s The Passion of the Christ. There have been quite a number of Jesus films: The Miracle Maker, Mary mother of Jesus, Jesus, The Gospel of John, the South African Son Of Man. It seems that there is an appetite in a wide range of audiences for Biblical films (more recently Noah and Exodus: Gods and Kings).The two films for 2016 are The Young Messiah, a film about Jesus at the age of seven, and Risen, a perspective on the death and resurrection of Jesus from the point of view of a Roman Tribune.

In the credits of The Young Messiah, the film is said to be based on a book by popular novelist Anne Rice. The director of the film, Cyrus Nowrasteh, an American with an Iranian background, co-wrote of the screenplay with his wife, Betsy Giffen Nowrasteh.

The important information, reassuring for faith audiences, is that the film is “inspired by, rooted in” the Scriptures. The film declares that it is an imaginative telling of the story.

The action takes place during Jesus’ seventh year. It opens in Egypt where Mary and Joseph have stayed until they have news, especially in Joseph’s dream, that Herod who had persecuted Jesus and killed the Innocents, has died. The family are living in Alexandria with other refugees from Judaea, especially the family of Clopas, his wife and his son, Jesus’ cousin, James.

Audiences will find this visualising of life in Egypt a helpful filling in background. Jesus is played by a young British boy, Adam Greaves- Neal, giving a fairly serious performance, perhaps wise beyond his years but not understanding quite who he is, his parents not having given him much background of his origins, a boy who is asking questions but who also has moments of play. One of the local boys is a bully and Jesus help save a girl from the bullying when the boy himself trips and dies – Jesus being blamed, but going to visit the boy, touching him and the boy reviving. Joseph is concerned as his Mary and they feel that it is time to return to Nazareth.

Sean Bean plays a Roman Centurion, reporting to the new king, the young Herod Antipas, who remembers the heritage of his father, is superstitious and consults witches, but has heard rumours of the healings of the young Jesus and wants to see him. The role of the Centurion and his men is to hunt down rebels and, as the family make their way towards Nazareth, they encounter the Romans and the Centurion allows Jesus and family to go on their way.

The family eventually arrive in Nazareth, after another healing episode (of Clopas) at the Jordan, then are welcomed by Sarah, and Jesus makes a great impression with his knowledge of Scripture on the local rabbi who knew Jesus’ parents before he was born. But Jesus, still consumed with a desire to know more about who he is, fostered by James telling him the story of the Magi, asks permission of Joseph to go to Jerusalem. In this sequence, the film anticipates Jesus at age 12 and recounts the story of Jesus, meeting the rabbi in Jerusalem (but also healing him of blindness), Mary and Joseph looking for him.

In the meantime, the Centurion receives information about Jesus and his family, that he is in Jerusalem and makes an effort to find him – which he does, but let him go.

This is a Faith film but not one preachingly so. Allowing for the fact that it is all reverent imaginative speculation, the film will probably be acceptable to most audiences – and is the kind of film that could be useful for parish groups and school classes, especially for younger children.

Risen, mentioned earlier, focuses on Jesus death and resurrection from a Roman perspective.

INTRODUCING THE PROJECT

This is a project initiated by the SIGNIS Cinema Desk in 2009. It offered an opportunity for members of SIGNIS (the World Catholic Association for Communication) who were involved in Cinema, especially those who had been members of O.C.I.C. (L’ Organisation Catholique Internationale du Cinema, which was part of the merger into SIGNIS in 2001), to contribute their ideas about reviewing as well to offer some examples.

Just over 40 correspondents replied.

The idea for the project originated in media awareness seminars in the Pacific nations and in Australia for OCIC during the 1990s. While cinemas have disappeared in some countries and cinema complexes are being built in others, the ready access to video libraries, the Internet, downloading, has meant that we are all watching more movies than we did years ago. But, how are we watching them? How discerning are we? How discerning can we be? By learning more about cinema and growing to appreciate the richness of the movies, while being more and more alert to what is trite and worthless, this is something that younger audiences are eager to do.

In the early 1990s, 30 Australian reviewers were invited to contribute to a book on reviewing. It was called Worth Watching: 30 Film Reviewers on Review and was coordinated by Peter Malone.

Each reviewer was asked to write a 50-word capsule review, a 500-longer review and a piece indicating to their readership their criteria for reviewing. This was the request made for the 2009 project, to film reviewers all over the world. In fact, there were replies from 16 different countries.

Contributors were asked to choose a film for review from one from their own country which had won an award locally or in international festivals.
At the SIGNIS Congress in Québec, 2017, outgoing president Gustavo Andujar that it was time for the Project to be continued and, so, an invitation has gone out for more contributors to the project.

AN INTRODUCTION TO REVIEWS AND REVIEWING


Two parts: On reviewing and Suggestions for a Reviewing Workshop

ON REVIEWING

Peter Malone


EVERYBODY IS A REVIEWER.

However, from the early days of the cinema, the media has provided commentators who are eager to offer their pros and cons concerning the success or failure of each film. Some of the reviewers themselves became famous, especially American reviewers like James Agee in the 1940s, Pauline Kael in the 1970s and 1980s, and Roger Ebert for many decades, especially with reviewing on television. Some reviews have been published in book collections giving them a status beyond the weekly or monthly appearances in newspapers and magazines.

Since reviewers have also taken to the airwaves and to the electronic media, some become personalities on movie shows and/or introducing movies on television. While review advice is welcome, the film itself can be lost in the personality byplay, the quotable quotes for publicity let alone the 'two thumbs up' syndrome of American reviewers, Siskel and Ebert. The reviewers are put on a showbiz pedestal and are presented as arbiters of taste and quality.

The challenge to those who read reviews or who are fans of the personalities is to be critical of them, assessing the worth of their advice against the reader's own experience.


SO. WHAT DOES A REVIEWER DO?

A reviewer is not the same as a film buff (though many reviewers are buffs).

A film buff loves the cinema, knows the cinema, is at home in the cinema.

A reviewer is not the same as a critic (though many reviewers also write articles of film criticism). A film critic analyses a film, its techniques, its themes, its genre and conventions, usually employing an academic framework for the critique and interpretation.

So, what does a reviewer do? The task of the reviewer is, in writing or in spoken word, to view the film again (re-view) without spoiling it for those who have not yet seen it and are looking for some kind of guidance and recommendation.

A review informs.
A review entertains.
A review evaluates and appreciates.
A review offers advice.

Most of all, a review mediates.

The reviewer is a mediator, sharing a response to a film with others. The reviewer is a privileged mediator, having a background in film culture that is helpful and enlightening to the reader of the review. The reviewer can alert the reader to facets of film-making that may not be familiar, to the 'context' of the film, to issues a film raises. The reviewer is a mediator of film culture—between the makers and the audience.

A review is not, therefore, written merely for the reviewer's own satisfaction but as a communication with a readership, an audience, an audience that is respected.

Yes, this is the ideal for a reviewer. Obviously, it does not always happen in fact.


HOW NOT TO...

I came across the following review many years ago and kept it for an essay like this one. The reviewer's name is not familiar and the paper is no longer published. The subject is the 1975 Academy Ward winner for Best Foreign Film, Dersu Urzala, directed by the celebrated Akira Kurosawa of Japan whose film canon includes Rashomon,The Seven Samurai, Throne of Blood, Yojimbo, Kagemusha, Ran and who needs no defence. The caption read Night of the frustrated climax... and the reviewer was Joe Fairhurst.
AND this piece of nonsense won an academy award? The only difference between this film and an eleven month pregnancy is that inevitably the pregnancy produces IT, though the waiting may play havoc with nervous fathers.

Whatever IT was that director Kurosawa hoped to father eluded this sufferer during a marathon battle with sub-titles and a cast as credible as a computerised telephone bill.

All films have their ups and downs as the director leads his audience along the path, albeit at tunes crooked, to at least one enjoyable climax. The only ups and downs I enjoyed occurred during the intermission as people left their seats.

The film starts promisingly enough with Siberian explorer Vladimir Arseviev searching for the grave of his hunter friend Dersu.

He finds the once-wooded area stripped of its beauty by the bull-dozers... progress has taken over from tranquillity (about the only progress made during this laboured tale)
.
The director then takes a painful 40 minutes building the character of his central figure, Dersu, who accepts an offer to guide the group of explorers through the forests and snow-covered plains of eastern Siberia..

And it is here we find the film's only saving grace...

The camera work and color is superb and makes for a delightful documentary, but, as a motion picture, purporting to entertain the masses, the Jib n is as interesting as a wet afternoon in Lilydale.

The foreign film buff may find some hidden meaning in "Dersu Uzala". No doubt the story loses something in the translation because the sub-titles read more like a Noddy annual.

I, however, was left wondering what the hell it was all about, and left the cinema at three-quarter time, not wishing to push my confusion to the final siren.

The only other film to leave me as mentally frustrated was the over-long James Dean vehicle, "Giant", which, like "Dersu Uzala", should have been brought out as a series of color slides. Sunday Press, April 18, 1976


SOME QUESTIONS

Questions for reviewers obviously arise from this piece of writing (apart from Joe Fairhurst even being there and reviewing a film that was not seen in its entirety):

- how subjective and how objective can a reviewer be? the inter-relationship between personal likes and the film as it stands?

- how interventionist should a reviewer be? how much of I and 'mine' in the review? how obtrusive the personality of the reviewer?

- how critical should a reviewer be, highlighting faults first and then offering overall comment or giving a general view first to place the flaws in context?

- how analytical? contributing to debate about a film's worth?

- how much influence should the policy of the newspaper/ magazine/radio station/television network have on the review?

- how much does the review's audience influence the review?- how does the reviewer keep in mind the range of the audience? age range, interests, experience?

- should the reviewer champion a film?

- should reviewers indicate that they can change their opinion?

And there are many more questions that would come to readers' minds.

Some factors that reviewers have to take into consideration include:

- that there is a danger in assuming a stance or point of view that is 'above' the film or 'superior' to it and presuming that a 'judgment' must be pronounced instead of watching and receiving the film, evaluating it and communicating the process of evaluation.

- the influence of the circumstances of watching the film under review: seeing it once or more, quality of attention paid, tiredness (and sleeping through parts),

- the influence of the audience mood—seeing a comedy or a horror film with a small group of introverted critics, seeing a serious drama with a nervously laughing audience who cannot see the point

- that the movie in its detail, no matter how cheap or quickly-made, may not be appreciated in one viewing

- that known stances of other reviewers can create expectations and influence a response.


REVIEWERS NEED TO TAKE INTO ACCOUNT:

• Their own sensibilities (interests, tastes, styles) and the sensibilities of their audiences
• Their personal sensitivities to controversial issues of language, sexuality and violence
• The ability to make the distinction between what is presented (all topics are possible) and how it is presented, an issue of sensitivities which have delicacy and robustness rather than brittle fragility or crassness
• an awareness of community/cultural standards
• local consumer information by classifications organisations
• the differences in the various genres and their conventions
• contexts of issues and storytelling and an alertness to subtexts
• the ability to interest and entertain audiences without egocentricity, including word and phrase choice
• What to include and emphasise – film as film/priority of content/ form and content/values
• dangers in reviewing:

* an encyclopedic clogging of the review with cinema references
* derogatory comparisons to enhance one’s own perspective
* claiming films have been over-rated (of course, I didn't)
* claiming films have been under-rated (of course, I didn't)
* use of words like 'undoubtedly', ‘admittedly’ (my personal infallibility)


OUR DIFFERENT PUBLICS

The reviewers, to be mediators, to be communicators, also need to appreciate the different 'publics' who respond to their medium and to their reviews.

It is well-known that American Variety has recognised that its principal readership consists of industry people who are interested in the profitability of the products. Reviews meet these needs. They are brief, indicate the plot line, highlight the selling points, call attention to marketing problems and use a distinct vocabulary and style that sometimes resembles billboards.
Newspapers know their markets and employ reviewers who will write according to the interests and expectations of the readers. Some will be 'up-market', presupposing knowledge and a greater sophistication of ideas and language. Others will be 'middle-of-the-road', presupposing less sophistication of analysis and vocabulary.

It is the same for magazines with wide circulations. However, many magazines cater for particular interest groups like university students, teachers, church groups. The reviews will be geared to the frameworks and references familiar to the groups.

Successful reviewers recognise these differences in 'publics' and can adapt their writing to a variety of review outlets.

Recognition of the differing publics for the reviews leads to respect for the readership. Reviews which mock or treat the readership condescendingly do not mediate film culture. Respect means acknowledging that people's tastes vary considerably and that this is neither good nor bad, right or wrong. A 'classical' sensibility is to be respected as is a 'popular' sensibility. The reviewer is also attentive to readership sensitivities, what may delight, what may offend and can mediate this information and advice in the review.

A consequence of this is that reviewers are aware of the 'linguistic networks’ in which they are involved, be it film theory, media education, media hype...


ISSUES ARISE:

• The reviewer acknowledging the need for background research and a commitment to it
• How detailed and serious should research be
• Or is the review merely a 'puff piece' akin to some of the publicity kit contents
• What ‘jargon’ does the reviewer rely on – and should it be questions
• Ethical issues of quoting and plagiarism


A short piece that I have added to my collection seems to offend against some of these criteria for reviewing. It is from the American New Republic. The writer is Leon Wieseltier commenting on Woody Alien's Crimes and Misdemeanors.

It is a matter of honor to hate this film. There is not a frame of it that fails to degrade, to debase and to demean something precious. It is the work of a consumer, a voyeur, a coward, a philistine, a creep. It is a stain on the culture that produced it. And I didn't like it. (Quoted in the New York News, 19th November 1989)


Or, on a film that so many people liked and enjoyed:

… that manipulatively (but Oscar-winning) slushbucket, A Beautiful Mind, the memory of which makes me feel positively nauseous. (Sukhdev Sandhu, Daily Telegraph, 9/9/05).

Eminently readable, but not exactly a mediating review!

And, opinions can be quite the opposite on the same film. This is not an actual film but a collection of phrases used derogatively or praisingly:

For:

An overlong, overblown, muddled plot which was predictable and slow-moving, with over-abundant cliches, heavy themes, a phoned-in and sleepwalking performance, studded with stupid lines, bombastic effects, sentimentality relying on the conventions of traditional film-making, with amateur, populist touches.

Against:

And extensive and elaborate, complex plot which offered pleasing anticipation and measured pace, honoured conventions and themes treated with gravitas, cast confident in their roles and quietly assured, accessible dialogue, bravura effects, satisfyingly emotional and using classic film-making style, requiring concentration with fresh touches appealing to a wide audience.

Reviewers develop a skill in writing well and communicating their experience of the quality of a film even when they are not sympathetic to the subject, as in this end of review of The Iron Lady:

It scarcely needs to be said that to try to understand the forces that shaped the controversial Thatcher is not to endorse any of her policies as Britain’s first and only female PM. But to be able to find compassion for this seemingly pitiless woman, as The Iron Lady does, is to rise above her limitations. (Tom Ryan, The Age Magazine, 11 December 2011)


A WORK OF SERVICE

It has been frequently said in relation to the creative arts that those who can't do, teach. Are those who can't be movie-makers reviewers? Certainly, reviewers have the luxury of going to comfortable, complimentary screenings for two hours plus or minus before they go on to the next preview, armchair commentators on the work of those who have gone out and made the films, investing long periods of their life, investing their energy on what might be commercial, artistic or both. Obviously, not every film is a complete success. Nor are many of them complete failures. The perpetual temptation of the reviewer is rash judgment and pontificating—with the yen for infallibility.

Everybody is a reviewer. And everybody likes to talk about the films they have seen. Reviewers have the privilege of being part of many people's review-conversations.

Their work is a service.


A POSTSCRIPT

SOME REVIEW STATEMENTS FOR CONSIDERATION (and some review examples as critical exercises in ‘snootiness’).


1 In its least beguiling moment, Alvin tells a sad runaway a little homily about binding sticks together into a bunch so they won't break. "That's family", he sums up; at which point ill-natured viewers will snarl that Romans used to call such wooden bundles fasces and look where that homely symbol ended up.

Kevin Jackson, Sight and Sound, Dec.1999, p.58. The Straight Story.


2 The Green Mile is from a novel by Stephen King, a less splendid literary source than Patricia Highsmith's The Talented Mr Ripley.

Andrew O'Hagan, Daily Telegraph, Friday, Feb.25th, 2000, p.25.


3. Not least of the film's problems is the fact that location shooting in Waxahachie, using local inhabitants as extras and in small parts, merely underlines the cornball melodrama of this central situation. The story of her struggle against adversity emerges as pure stereotype, with one deus ex machina after another trundled out to give it maximum heartwarming effect.

Places in the Heart is basically just another calculated tug at the heartstrings, ending with an embarrassing wish-fulfilment sequence in which, envisioning the best of all possible worlds, all the characters (including black Moze) celebrate communion in a dream of harmony. Tom Milne, Monthly Film Bulletin, March 1985, p.89-90


4. Madhur Jaffrey's performance (in Cotton Mary) is so embarrassing that I wish I had been wearing a paper bag over my head while watching it. Peter Bradfield, The Guardian, Dec.1999.


5. '... Pip Karmel's admittedly underwhelming first feature.'
Trevor Johnston, Time Out 1565, 14-23 August 2000, p.77.
'Admittedly' by whom?


AND SOME DEROGATORY COMMENTS: AMUSING, BUT…


6. 'Tolerable problem picture with no surprises'
- Halliwell, Fighting Back,


7. Gruesomely cute...............
Nick Fraser, Amelie, Telegraph, A7, 27/4/02

8. derisive chic...............
Nick Fraser on Amelie, Canal Plus and Channel 4, ibid.

9. deeply unmemorable.......
James Christopher, Italian for Beginners, Times 27/4/2002

10. stunningly inept.............
Catherine Shoard, John Q, Sunday Telegraph, 28/4/02

11. number and number...............
Nina Kaplan. Novocaine, Metro, 5/7/02

12. when they gave real thought to mindless violence/ Rollerball


13. cliches... archetypes; cinema is not art but storytelling...
Press kit for Dust


14. His (Val Kilmer's) over-genial, self-deluding joker persona - always look at me performing, always working an angle - fits the film like a Trojan Magnum.
Ben Walters, Wonderland, Sight & Sound, 3/02, p.71


15. ..impeccably ugly. …meat-cleaver continuity. …muddily indecipherable. Dogme… ditchwater housestyle.
Peter Matthews, Festen, Sight and Sound, March 99, 39-40.

16. …cheapjack brutalism. Compellingly unsettling violence. …pushing screeching.


17. Jose Aroyo, Perdita Durango, Sight and Sound.


18…it’s so pleased with itself that it becomes wearing.
Chris Tookey, Kiss Kiss Bang Bang, Daily Mail, 11/11/05, p. 55


19. Philanthropy spreads through this film like a virulent strain of ebola. It’s a supposedly inspirational fable, but one of horrible, calculated uplift… Well-intentioned, of course, but not at all nice.


20. Tim Robey, Pay it Forward, Daily Telegraph


21. Inconceivably putrid.
Tim Robey, Dead Babies.


22. The confines of the cravenly schematic plot.
Tim Robey, Mona Lisa Smile, Daily Telegraph 12/3/04

23. Wannabe visionaries
Tim Robey, Northfork, Daily Telegraph, 12/3/04

And – there is word choice: Having long filmed himself obsessively, he has collated material accumulated over the years into an an encyclopaedic collage, a manically pulsional art object that, to all intents and purposes, is an analogue for the structures and energies of Caouette’s own consciousness. Jonathan Romney, Tarnation, Sight and Souond, April 05, p.78.


And… a word of sound advice and common sense from novelist, W. Somerset Maugham:
Sentimentality is only sentiment that rubs you up the wrong way.





SUGGESTIONS FOR A REVIEWING WORKSHOP

If there is time to work with the journalists (can be print, radio, television, website), I would propose starting with their being able to identify how they 'tick' as regards their response to movies. This would include helping them to identify their particular sensibilities and sensitivities, personal and cultural, so that they can compare their own traits with those of the general public with whom they communicate.

I see a reviewer and a film journalist as a mediator between a film and the public. This is different from a critic who writes opinion pieces and is not mediating the film.

Other areas for attention if there is time include:

• the need for background research
• the serious background article/presentation
• the 'puff piece'
• jargon and language pitfalls
• interviewing techniques
• editing interviews
• the article based on and incorporating interview material
• an ethics of film journalism

It need not be limited to print journalists. Radio journalists, especially, can do reviews and interviews. Television journalists tend to do interviews and background pieces.

The journalists would work as a group of peers and the training would be to meet their needs and requests as well as input.

OUTLINE

• Review Critique Buff
• Reviewer as mediator, respect for readership, communicating with that audience
• Sensibilities of reviewer – and the sensibilities of the readership
• Sensitivity to what and how?
• Community/cultural standards
• Means for consumer information
• Genres and conventions
• Contexts and subtexts
• Writing tone and skills
• Interest and entertain without egocentricity
• Word and phrase choice
• What to include and emphasise – film as film/priority of content/ form and content/values
• Types of reviewing:

* encyclopedic clogging
* derogatory comparisons to enhance
* over-rated (of course, I didn't)
* under-rated (of course, I didn't)
* 'undoubtedly' (my personal infallibility)

• Critique of reviews: warm and encouraging/cold and supercilious/reaching intended audience or not?

ADJECTIVES

Negative/ Positive

TEDIOUS/ MESMERISING

UNORIGINAL/ CLASSICAL

SLOW/ WELL-PACED

IMPOSSIBLE TO FOLLOW/ CHALLENGING

UNDOUBTEDLY/ BEG TO DIFFER

 JAMES ABBOTT





YASMIN

UK, 2004, director Kenneth Glenaan.
Ecumenical Prize, Locarno, 2004.





SHORT REVIEW

Yasmin is a young British Muslim living in Yorkshire in a post-9/11 Islam-unfriendly age. She tries not to fall foul of her father’s desire that she shares – or is seen to share – his orthodoxy of faith.

She is as British as anyone, yet, for the sake of her father’s ‘honour’, clock-watches through her arranged marriage. Predictably, she has a soft spot for a typically Anglo-Saxon? Yorkshireman.

Yasmin feels the pull of her faith but wants to be accepted as the Brit that she is. There are a few clichés but it’s well made and, certainly by the lead, well acted.


LONG REVIEW

Islamaparanoia hit the world not long after the terror attacks of 9/11. As an audacious strike at the people and institutions of the West, the backlash suffered by Muslim communities long embedded in the UK was palpable. For most people, it’s hard to gauge how British-born Muslims would have felt being shoved under the microscope thanks to the murderous actions of a small group of extremists. Kenny Glenaan’s Yasmin attempts to show us.

Yasmin is a young British Muslim living in Yorkshire before, during and after 9/11. She tries not to fall foul of her father’s desire that she shares – or is seen to share – his orthodoxy of faith. She is as British as anyone, yet, for the sake of her father’s ‘honour’, clock-watches through her arranged marriage.

In effect she lives two lives. One in a hijab in a house opposite her father’s – just close enough to cook and deliver the family’s evening meal whilst suffering her apathetic husband (at least until he’s received his UK passport). Her escapism comes in the form of her job as a council worker in a neighbouring town. En route she always stops to change from her hijab into civvies –fighting to hoik up her jeans behind a dry stone wall.

Yasmin feels the pull of her faith but wants to be accepted as the Brit that she is. Where Damien O'Donnell’s East is East uses humour to show the dichotomy between strict Islamic observance and growing up in northern England, Yasmin uses angst and frustration. Being singled out for your culture, skin colour and faith really isn’t a laughing matter here – even if Yasmin and her father both at times apply the quintessentially British stiff upper lip to their trials.

The weak point in the film is the characterisation of Yasmin’s younger brother Nasir. His role is that of the stereotypical disaffected young Muslim. He sings the call to prayer when accompanying his father to the local mosque but behind his back he’s a small-time drug dealer with a hankering for sexual kicks. After experiencing the rough hand of the police under Britain’s terror laws, he is suddenly catapulted into the arms of so-called radical Muslims. This tries to give a concrete, persuasive reason for Nasir’s descent to extremism. However, it’s only about acceptance. If the BNP had offered him a loving home he’d probably have taken it. Delving further into the father/son bond would perhaps have revealed the true reason for Nasir’s emptiness.

The film covers an array of themes – racism, religious intolerance, radicalisation and a dig at the anti-terror laws in place after the al-Qaeda attacks. It owes a lot to Archie Panjabi’s portrayal of Yasmin – utterly persuasive throughout. This is a good film that leaves one or two questions to chew on. Here’s one: Do UK Muslim communities self-ghettoise or is wider society putting up the walls?


CRITERIA FOR REVIEWING

These are the ten film reviewing commandments I look to follow:

One: if film reviewing isn’t a joy, don’t bother doing it. Receiving a pay cheque is great but reviews, first and foremost, should be attacked with passion and enthusiasm – even if the film under scrutiny is a bit of a stinker.

Two: Know your audience. As with all writing and broadcasting, the fundamental question to be addressed is: who’s reading, listening or watching? What do I know about them? This doesn’t alter one’s opinion of a film but it moulds the review in terms of where you place your emphasis.

Three: Punch in hard and don’t be formulaic. Introductions, for me, are really important. I rarely launch straight in without addressing something that puts the film in perspective/context. Light or heavy, personal or impersonal, I try to come out with something a little different in terms of writing style or approach for the intro.

Four: Don’t repeat the plot verbatim. How far to delve into the storyline is a key component to any review. Give an intro and perhaps a hint or two but spoilers annoy readers more than anything else. Leave it to online forums where people can choose to ruin the cinematic experience ahead of time.

Five: Be true to your original impression of a film. It’s good to get home and write it well before reading the reviews of others. Reviewing can, but shouldn’t, descend into an egofest or a critics’ love-in. Likewise, there’s no point disagreeing with others just to be contrary.

Six: Take some paper to the cinema and learn how to write in the dark. I always take a few pieces of folded over and stapled A4 into the cinema to note a quote or two that, for me, sums up the movie or encapsulate a key moment. Deciphering the angled scrawl has become an integral part of the fun.

Seven: Good research never hurts. I personally like to delve into the filmographies of the actors and directors for a line or two on previous work – particularly if there’s an angle or quirky bit of information. How do films echo others? How do they contrast?

Eight: Take in everything – especially some of the production elements and techniques that are seldom mentioned. In my reviews, the cinematography will get a mention if it’s outstanding as will a dynamic piece of script-writing (not-too-Christian feelings like jealousy are quickly bashed into honourable ones like admiration). I like to look at the use of sound – not just music.

Nine: It doesn’t hurt to find a redeeming feature. I try to come up with something that has stuck with me after an hour-and-a-half in a darkened auditorium. You can usually find something noteworthy – even in the bad ones.

Ten: Don’t black out during a screening! I once settled in for a preview screening at the Twentieth Century Fox theatrette in London, glass of wine in one hand, paper plate of sandwiches in the other. Halfway through – when a bit of blood started to gush – I felt my legs wobbling uncontrollably. That was my last memory for an undisclosed period. I woke up to a lit auditorium with a number of people staring at me as if I’d walked in naked. Neither the glass of wine nor the sandwiches were anywhere to be seen leading to the mortifying possibility that I’d thrown them in the dark. Goodness knows what happened but I’m still scarred by the experience.



BIOGRAPHY

James Abbott is a writer and broadcaster who has been reviewing and commenting on film for over a decade. He wrote on film for the Catholic Herald (London) for several years. He has sat on ecumenical, interfaith and Catholic juries, representing SIGNIS, in Berlin, Tróia, Tehran and on virtual juries in the UK. He also contributed a chapter on Mel Gibson, focusing on The Passion of the Christ, to Through a Catholic Lens: Religious Perspectives of 19 Film Directors from Around the World. He is currently webmaster of catholicchurch.org.uk – the website of the Catholic Bishops’ Conference of England and Wales.

TOM AITKEN UK



BRASSED OFF



UK, 1997,
Directed by Mark Herman

Ecumenical Jury Commendation, Berlin, 1997,

SHORT REVIEW

Brassed Off wears its heart upon a colliery brass band’s braided sleeves and trumpets its message: the pit closures in the 1980s were a cynical government exercise, the attendant consultations fraudulent. Communities, marriages and individual self-respect were ruthlessly trampled upon, even destroyed. But, for all its agit-prop this is a delightful film, packed with interesting and entertaining characters, clear social observation, wry comedy, romance, and moments when you try to pretend (as one of the characters does) that your eyes are mysteriously “leaking”. Plus––a tremendous plus––toe-tapping, open-airish music,
resplendently played by Grimethorpe Colliery Band.


LONG REVIEW

Brassed Off wears its heart upon a colliery brass band’s braided sleeves, and trumpets its message: the pit closures in the 1980s were a cynical government exercise, the attendant consultations fraudulent. Communities, marriages and individual self-respect were trampled ruthlessly underfoot. But, for all the agit-prop, this delightful film is packed with interesting and entertaining characters, clear social observation, wry comedy, romance, and moments when you try to pretend (as one of the characters does) that your eyes are mysteriously “leaking”. Plus––a tremendous plus––toe-tapping, open-airish music, resplendently played by Grimethorpe Colliery Band.

Grimethorpe pit had itself been closed a few years earlier, so the bandsmen had experienced at first hand many of the tensions the film explores: pressure from wives and families to relinquish the expense and time of band membership in order to fight for their jobs, stress, hunger, even physical illness. There are large elements of fairy tale. The band wins the National Championships in London (as Grimethorpe itself did in the year its pit was closed) and one of the several crises which hits them during their preparations is solved by the appearance of a beautiful girl, a returning native, who keeps quiet about why she has returned, but just happens to be a smashing flugelhorn player.

I have some experience in brass bands, and feared the worst before I saw the film. Such bands are frequently treated condescendingly on screen, as if the only possible attitude to the activity must be that it is inherently laughable. Not so here, however. The bandroom atmosphere is authentic, from the ribald language and sexist jokes to the blunt unpretentiousness that turns Concierto de Aranjuez into “Concerto de Orange Juice”. Bandsmen’s wives, despite their earlier objections, cheer loyally at the contest. Throughout you have a sense of both hard-bitten grumpiness and of people doing something they love. Their conductor’s final, earthy, very nearly over the top assertion of human and social values is immediately undercut by some down-to-earth Yorkshire behaviour which I found totally believable.

Conductor Pete Postlethwaite is taut and gaunt and fanatical in his determination to keep the band playing until the heavens fall. Tara Fitzgerald gets some complicated fingerings right as the enigmatic fugelhornist. But this is an ensemble piece, and the entire cast fits precisely into the dramatic and comic narrative, just as the Grimethorphe Band negotiates anything the conductor puts in front of them.


CRITERIA FOR FILM REVIEWING

I have generally reviewed cinema as weekly or occasional critic or lecturer for intelligent people who are interested in but not necessarily expert on film. If I were to find myself writing for a specialist film magazine or journal, I would probably have to increase my specialist vocabulary. I don’t remember ever using, for example, phrases like “the grammar of film” or waxing learned about lenses and filters.

I prefer, borrowing an idea from a distinguished theatre critic, now sadly dead, Kenneth Tynan, to regard myself as a reporter. I report how I felt about sitting in a cinema on a particular date, watching a particular film in company with a particular audience. I emphasise the idea of particularities deliberately; I don’t really believe that there is such a thing as a wholly objective review written entirely independently of the factors I have mentioned.

The point was brought home to me early in the year 2000 when I saw Kenneth Branaugh’s Love’s Labours Lost twice. The first time was at the Berlin Film Festival. The film was not in competition but was shown late at night to a packed, relaxing audience in a large cinema. It was a riot. Every music number was applauded, as if we were attending a hit stage musical. Laughter was in the force nine category of “gales of laughter”. Branagh, understandably, thanked the audience effusively for giving his effort such a good send off. A few weeks later, on a damp and cold Monday morning, I saw the film again with the London film critics, in a screening room in Soho. This time there was absolute silence. No derision, no particular
complaint – just silence.

Had I had to write about the film after my first viewing I suppose (or hope) that I might have picked up on some of the reservations I think I had felt but with an audience reaction such as I had observed still ringing in my ears, I would probably have written more positively than I did after I had seen it a second time.

To return to the idea of reporting: the first part of the job is to give your readers an idea of what sort of film you have seen and what it contains. This does not, of course, mean that you should include a plot summary. Plot summaries of films, plays and novels are almost invariably very tedious, since everything that has been put into the film by director and cast, designer and cameraman, is missing. Furthermore, some readers will not want to see the film if they think they know what happens. But it is often helpful to give some account of how the action begins. Similarly, when it comes to praising or criticizing those who make, or fail to make, the film good, it is best to avoid mentioning too many names, particularly when there is a large cast. This is partly a matter of length. You will see that for this presentation we have been asked to review the same film in 100 words and again in 400. 100 words allows for a bare minimum of information and comment. 400 gives more freedom – but only comparatively.

Sometimes a reviewer may have special knowledge of an area of life or subject matter covered by a film. It seems reasonable to make use of this but some restraint is required, especially when your knowledge outside of the film is connected with having read, studied or reviewed the book on which it is based. You have to ask yourself how interested your readers are likely to be in how familiar you are with a novel by Dickens or James or Solzhenitsyn or whoever, from which a film is drawn. Or, for that matter, how much they care about your historical knowledge (or lack of it) concerning, say, medieval France, or Jerusalem at the time of the crucifixion. The importance of these considerations will differ according to the nature of the original material and the seriousness of the film’s intentions. But your first responsibility is to review a film. In some cases, as with Brassed Off, the field of special knowledge is comparatively esoteric and I felt that my remarks about the authenticity of the scenes in the bandroom and such matters were relevant. But if you find yourself feeling that, say, a favourite novel of yours has been greatly misrepresented by a screen version, you should, as a reporter of your own sense of what has been done, mention it in a very few words, then move on to look at what is actually in the film. A film based on a novel is necessarily a separate work of art and has to be judged on those terms.

There remains one responsibility that a reviewer owes to chis readers and editor: what is written must be lively and interesting enough for readers to stay with it to the end. Otherwise you have wasted your time and theirs.




BIOGRAPHY

Born 1941, in New Zealand, and educated at Victoria University of Wellington. In 1959 won the Lincoln Memorial Essay award organised by the American Information Service. Taught History, English and Drama in secondary/grammar schools in New Zealand and England before becoming a freelance writer in the early Eighties. Directed theatrical productions ranging from Offenbach to Shakespeare.

Contributed essays on Film and Thelogy to Cinéma Divinité (SCM Press, 2005) and to Through a Catholic lens (ed. Peter Malone, Sheed & Ward 2007). Has contributed to: The Times, The Times Literary Supplement, The Guardian, The Charleston Magazine, The Tablet, The War Cry, The Christian Century, The Church Times, The Jewish Chronicle, Winds, Brass Bulletin and The British Bandsman. Was Film Critic of The Tablet for eight years and served on film festival juries in Berlin, Venice and Setubal, Portugal.

Has lectured at St Deiniol’s Library (The Gladstone Memorial Library) on cinematic topics and on Gladstone himself. He became a Fellow of St Deiniol’s Library in 2008.

Also lectured also at the Graham Greene Festival in Berkhamstead, 2003-05. His Ways of Affirmation and Ways of Escape: Graham Greene in Mexico and the Congo, has been published as an occasional paper by the Graham Greene Birthplace Trust Has published verse in Ambit, The Spectator and elsewhere. His book on the political history of the Abbey of Monte Cassino is being considered for publication.

GUSTAVO ANDUJAR



FRESA Y CHOCOLATE (STRAWBERRY AND CHOCOLATE)

Strawberry and Chocolate / Cuba / 1993 / color, 110 min. / Directors: Tomás Gutiérrez Alea and Juan Carlos Tabío / Producers: Miguel Mendoza and Camilo Vives / Screenplay: Senel Paz / Cinematographer: Mario García Joya / Music: José María Vitier / Editors: Osvaldo Donatién, Rolando Martínez and Miriam Talavera / Art Director: Fernando O’Reilly? / With Jorge Perugorría (Diego), Vladimir Cruz (David) and Mirta Ibarra (Nancy).

OCIC Award at the XV International Film Festival of New Latin American Cinema, Havana, 1993.

SHORT REVIEW

En La Habana de finales de los setentas, Diego, homosexual culto y conocedor del arte, pero marginado en su trabajo, trata infructuosamente de seducir a David, heterosexual y ferviente militante de la juventud comunista cuyas pretensiones de hacerse escritor chocan con su deficiente educación y escasa cultura, y finalmente se convierte en amigo y mentor de éste. Encantadora comedia que denuncia, con su mirada agudamente crítica sobre la ideológicamente cerrada sociedad cubana, la empobrecedora marginación de lo diverso, y propone una tolerancia basada en el diálogo sincero y el respeto a la dignidad de las personas.

SHORT REVIEW

In Havana of the late seventies, Diego, a young homosexual, very cultured and a true connoisseur, but marginalized in his work, tries unsuccessfully to seduce David, heterosexual and fervent militant of the Communist Youth, whose aspiration to become a writer clashes with his poor education and sheer ignorance about art. Finally, Diego becomes David’s mentor and best friend. This charming comedy denounces, with its sharply critical view on the ideologically closed Cuban society, the damaging marginalization of the different, advocating a tolerance based on true dialog and the respect for the dignity of people.

LONG REVIEW

En La Habana de finales de los setentas, Diego, homosexual culto y conocedor del arte, pero marginado en su trabajo, trata infructuosamente de seducir a David, heterosexual y ferviente militante de la juventud comunista cuyas pretensiones de hacerse escritor chocan con su deficiente educación y escasa cultura, y finalmente se convierte en amigo y mentor de éste.

Con esta historia profundamente humana, Tomás Gutiérrez Alea, el más importante de los realizadores cinematográficos cubanos, aborda el tema de la intolerancia, expresada en el rechazo y la marginación de lo diverso. Encantadora comedia realizada con muy modestos recursos, en el peor momento de la crisis económica que silenció a la cinematografía nacional a mediados de los noventas, Fresa y chocolate demuestra el poder de una puesta en escena creativa, unas buenas interpretaciones que dan vida a personajes bien construidos y, sobre todo, una historia bien contada. Es la película más premiada de la historia del cine cubano, con galardones recibidos en cerca de 30 festivales y concursos en Cuba y en el extranjero. En el XV Festival Internacional del Nuevo Cine Latinoamericano, en La Habana, 1993, acumuló diez de los más importantes premios, incluyendo los de los jurados internacionales de FIPRESCI y OCIC, y ha sido la única película cubana que ha representado a América Latina como candidata al Oscar en la categoría de película en idioma extranjero.

Algunos han aclamado la película como un alegato en defensa de los derechos de los homosexuales, lo cual es erróneo, no por falso, sino por reduccionista. Diego (un magistral Jorge Perugorría) sufre marginación porque es un homosexual en una sociedad raigalmente machista, pero también porque es una persona de amplia cultura artística en una sociedad que por razones ideológicas desconfía hasta la obsesión de toda corriente artística occidental y porque atesora tradiciones culturales genuinamente cubanas que son despreciadas, en un derroche de estupidez, como rezagos decadentes de un pasado supuestamente superado. Profundamente enamorado de su país y su ciudad, siente que se le trata como un enemigo, se rechaza lo mucho que puede aportar y se le niega el espacio que es legítimamente suyo. Las ruinas que muestran la decadencia física de la ciudad devienen impactante metáfora de un deterioro espiritual que se manifiesta en doblez, simulación y traición.

Fresa y chocolate denuncia, con su mirada agudamente crítica sobre la ideológicamente cerrada sociedad cubana, la empobrecedora marginación de lo diverso, y propone una tolerancia basada en el diálogo sincero y el respeto a la dignidad de las personas.

Fresa y chocolate / Cuba / 1993 / color, 110 min. / Dirección: Tomás Gutiérrez Alea y Juan Carlos Tabío / Producción: Miguel Mendoza y Camilo Vives / Guión: Senel Paz / Fotografía: Mario García Joya / Música: José María Vitier / Edición: Osvaldo Donatién, Rolando Martínez y Miriam Talavera / Escenografía: Fernando O’Reilly? / Intérpretes: Jorge Perugorría (Diego), Vladimir Cruz (David) y Mirta Ibarra (Nancy).
Premio OCIC en el XV Festival Internacional del Nuevo Cine Latinoamericano, La Habana 1993

LONG REVIEW

In late seventies’ Havana, Diego, a young homosexual, very cultured and a true connoisseur who is marginalized in his work, tries unsuccessfully to seduce David, heterosexual and fervent militant of the Communist Youth, whose aspiration to become a writer clashes with his poor education and sheer ignorance about art. Finally, Diego becomes David’s mentor and best friend.

With this deeply human story Tomás Gutiérrez Alea, the most important Cuban film director, takes on intolerance, expressed as rejection and marginalization of that which is different. This charming comedy, produced with a very low budget at the worst moment of the deep economical crisis which silenced the national film industry in the nineties, demonstrates the power of a creative mise en scène, of good acting giving life to well designed characters and, most of all, of a story well told. It is the most widely recognized movie in the history of Cuban filmmaking, with some 30 awards in festivals and competitions in Cuba and abroad. At the XV International Festival of the New Latin American Cinema in Havana, 1993, it deserved 10 of the most importants awards, including those of the international juries of FIPRESCI and OCIC, and it has been the only Cuban film ever to be nominated for Latin America to the Oscar, in the category of Film in a Foreign Language.

Some have acclaimed the film as an appeal in favor of the rights of homosexuals, which is not altogether false, but is certainly reductive. Diego (a superb Jorge Perugorría) is marginalized for being a homosexual in a society with a deeply rooted machismo, but also for being a person with a vast artistic culture in a society pathologically distrustful of any western artistic trend, and for treasuring genuinely Cuban cultural traditions which are wrongly despised as decadent memories of an allegedly buried past. Deeply in love with his country and his city, he resents being treated as an enemy while all he could contribute is rejected and the space to which he is legitimately entitled is denied to him. The ruins showing the physical decadence of the city are a metaphor for a spiritual deterioration that surfaces as deception, simulation and treason.

Strawberry and Chocolate denounces, with its sharply critical view of the ideologically closed Cuban society, the damaging marginalization of the different, as it advocates a tolerance based on true dialog and the respect for the dignity of people.

CRITERIA FOR FILM REVIEWING

Fue cuando comencé a escribir este recuento sobre mi método personal para reseñar películas, que comprendí hasta qué punto mi procedimiento para hacer las reseñas era intuitivo y falto de sistematicidad. A pesar de eso, continué escribiendo la nota, y he descubierto que hay, después de todo, un número de regularidades en la manera en que acometo la tarea, no tantas como para escribir un vademécum sobre el tema, pero sí suficientes como para compartir algunas ideas con otros miembros de SIGNIS que también reseñan películas.

Se dice a menudo, y con mucha razón, que en cada exhibición de un filme se presentan tantas películas diferentes como espectadores haya en la sala. Cada uno de nosotros ve una película –cualquier película– desde sus propios antecedentes personales, y en unas circunstancias específicas, lo cual convierte el ver una película en una experiencia muy personal.

Por supuesto, lo mismo ocurre con los críticos de cine, y esa es la razón por la cual las reseñas difieren tanto unas de otras, en estilo y en sustancia. Es también la razón por la cual a veces los más respetados críticos de cine tienen opiniones tan diferentes sobre la misma película. Ésta es la base para el primer principio que aplico cuando evalúo una película: Dar siempre LA PROPIA opinión, no para impresionar a los demás, sino para compartirla honestamente con ellos. En incontables discusiones de películas en grupos he experimentado situaciones en las que personas que según cualquier criterio serían consideradas analfabetas en temas de cine, hicieron los comentarios más perspicaces y esclarecedores.

Hay un segundo principio, también basado en la singularidad de la experiencia personal con las películas: tratar de no ser excesivamente categórico en las opiniones que se expresan. Después de todo, otros que vieron la misma película, tuvieron una experiencia totalmente diferente. Reseñar películas con justicia requiere, por tanto, tener el tacto de admitir que hay gran espacio para otros puntos de vista, muchos de ellos totalmente diferentes de, o incluso contrarios a, el de quien elabora la reseña.

Aparte de seguir estos dos principios generales, hay un esquema básico que trato de respetar para elaborar la reseña, y que consta de tres partes: a) una sinopsis de la trama; b) una evaluación sobre la base de los méritos artísticos; c) una consideración de la película desde el punto de vista de los valores morales.

Es esencial incluir una sinopsis de la trama, y es mejor ponerla al principio, de modo que el lector que todavía no ha visto la película no podría tener una mejor gratitud de las observaciones del crítico. La sinopsis debe ser tan breve como sea posible: lo suficientemente informativa como para dar una idea de qué trata la película, sin contar toda la historia. En particular, debe evitarse a toda costa revelar detalles inesperados o sorprendentes.

Una vez que se ha dado una idea general sobre la trama de película, paso usualmente a las consideraciones estéticas, a menudo expresando mi impresión general sobre la película en una oración breve que incluya uno o dos adjetivos cuidadosamente seleccionados. La disponibilidad de espacio determina, por supuesto, la extensión con la que pueden tratarse los aspectos específicos, pero debe darse a esta parte una atención especial, ya que una crítica de SIGNIS es ante todo un instrumento de educación para los medios. Supone compartir con los lectores la experiencia personal –y en muchos sentidos única– que tuvo el crítico de esa película, pero es también una oportunidad de ayudar a esos lectores para mantenerse al día en cuanto al lenguaje, siempre en evolución, del cine contemporáneo, destacando logros cinematográficos importantes, ofreciendo información relevante sobre los cineastas y sus trabajo previos o relacionados, indicando las semejanzas y las diferencias con películas similares o relacionadas, etcétera.
Debe darse atención especial a la manera en que la película refleja y entra en diálogo con la cultura que la produce. Éste es siempre un tema de la mayor relevancia, pero es
particularmente importante en nuestro entorno global de comunicación, dominado por occidente, destacar la afirmación de valores culturales locales en las películas.

Por último, pero no por ello menos importante, está la consideración de los aspectos morales, que generalmente pongo al final de la evaluación. Debido a que la promoción de valores ha estado siempre en un lugar prioritario en el enfoque de SIGNIS sobre el cine, encuentro más apropiado situarla al final en la reseña, con la intención de dejar a los lectores las ideas expresadas sobre este tema para que las consideren adicionalmente.

Hay un "enfoque de SIGNIS" de los aspectos morales de las películas, que se ha desarrollado durante los 80 años de trabajo de OCIC y SIGNIS. No se resume en un conjunto de reglas o pautas específicas, pero puede ser claramente comprendido, por ejemplo, estudiando los premios que OCIC y SIGNIS otorgan en los festivales. Quizás la característica
más sobresaliente de este enfoque es su amplitud de miras.

Mientras que muchas películas plantean dilemas morales muy difíciles, el "enfoque de SIGNIS" es notablemente no sectario, siempre dispuesto a considerar cada conflicto humano posible, sin importar cuán oscuros sean los rincones del corazón humano que se exploran en la película, siempre dispuesto a encontrar semillas del Espíritu en todos valores humanos, siempre seguro de que la misericordia de Dios es infinita y las personas son capaces de redención.
Al abordar las cuestiones morales de las películas, SIGNIS en general favorece:

- Destacar los valores presentes, más que denunciar los anti-valores. Deben enfatizarse los valores humanos universales, una buena pauta para identificar los cuales es la relación de los frutos del espíritu dada por San Pablo en Gál. 4, 22: "... los frutos del espíritu son la caridad, la alegría y la paz, la paciencia, la comprensión hacia los demás, la generosidad y la fidelidad, la amabilidad y el autocontrol." Los otros valores derivan de éstos o están estrechamente relacionados con ellos.

- Evitar las cadenas interminables de juicios y condenas. La crítica debe ejercerse con calma y la paciencia.

En cuanto al estilo literario, no estoy contra la elegancia, pero prefiero un enfoque más bien directo y sencillo. Las reseñas de SIGNIS no deben ser artículos críticos de gran elaboración, orientados a complacer a minorías eruditas. Cuando abordan asuntos complicados, deben hacerlo de una manera clara y comprensible; deben ser informados, pero no eruditos; bien escritos, pero no excesivamente elaborados.

Finalmente, encuentro conveniente, si el espacio disponible lo permite, incluir una ficha técnica del filme, tan amplia como sea posible.
--------------
When I began writing this account of my personal approach to film reviewing, I came to realize just how intuitive and unsystematic my reviewing was. I went on with writing the note, anyway, and I have discovered that there are, after all, a number of regularities in the way I deal with the task –nothing to write a vade mecum about, but enough to share with other SIGNIS reviewers.

It is often said, and rightfully so, that in every screening of a film, as many different films are watched as there are people watching. Each and every one of us watches a film –any film– from his or her own personal background, as well as under specific circumstances, making the watching of a film a very personal experience.

It is of course the same with film reviewers, which is the reason why film reviews come in such a great variety, both in style and substance. It is also the reason why the most respected film critics sometimes have so widely different opinions on the same film. This is the basis for the first principle I apply when reviewing a film: always give YOUR opinion, not to make an impression, but to honestly share it. In countless group discussions of films I have experienced situations where people who would by any account be considered cinema illiterates made the most perceptive, enlightening observations.

There is a second principle, also based on the uniqueness of the personal experience of films: try not to be overly categorical in your opinions. Others, who watched the same film you did, experienced a completely different movie. Fair film reviewing requires, thus, to tactfully allow space for other insights, many of them quite different from, or even contrary to, that of the reviewer.

Apart from following these two general principles, I try to adhere to a basic review structure including three parts: a) a synopsis of the story; b) an evaluation on the basis of artistic merit; c) a consideration of the film from the point of view of moral values.

It is essential to include a synopsis of the story, and it is best to place it at the beginning, so that the reader who has not yet seen the film may have a better appreciation of the reviewer’s observations. The synopsis must be as short as possible - informative enough to give an idea of what the film is about, without telling the whole story. Spoilers, in particular, must be avoided at all costs.

Once that the film story has been outlined, I usually go into aesthetic considerations, often beginning by stating my general impression on the film in a short sentence including one or two carefully chosen adjectives. The availability of space dictates, of course, the extent to which specific aspects can be discussed, but special attention must be given to this part, since a SIGNIS film review is first and foremost a media education instrument. It involves sharing the reviewer’s personal –and in many ways unique– experience of that film with the readers, but it is also an opportunity to help those readers to keep abreast of the ever evolving language of contemporary cinema, by highlighting important cinematic achievements, presenting relevant information about the filmmakers and their previous and related work, pointing out similarities and differences with similar or related films, etc.

Special attention should be given to the way in which the film reflects and dialogs with the culture producing it. This is always a most relevant matter, but it is particularly important, in our western-dominated global communication environment, to highlight the affirmation of local cultural values in films.

Last, but not least, is the consideration of moral aspects, which I usually place at the end of the review. Since the promotion of values has always come first in the SIGNIS approach to films, I find it most appropriate for it to be the last item in the review, in order to leave the readers with the ideas expressed about this subject for further consideration.

There is a “SIGNIS approach” to the moral aspects of films, developed during 80 years of OCIC and SIGNIS. It is not summarized in sets of specific rules or guidelines, but it can be clearly understood, for example, by studying the OCIC and SIGNIS awards given at festivals. Perhaps the most outstanding feature of this approach is its broadmindedness.
Whereas many films pose very difficult moral dilemmas, the “SIGNIS approach” is notably non-sectarian, always ready to consider every possible human conflict, no matter how dark the corners of the human heart explored in the film be, always willing to find seeds of the Spirit in all human values, always certain that God’s mercy is infinite and people are capable of redemption.

When dealing with the moral issues of a film, SIGNIS generally favors:

Highlighting values present in films, rather than denouncing anti-values. Universal human values should be emphasized, a good guideline to identifying them being the list of the fruits of the Spirit given by St. Paul in Gal. 4, 22: “...the fruit of the Spirit is charity, joy and peace, patience, understanding of others, kindness and fidelity, gentleness and self-control.” Other values derive from these or are closely related to them.

Avoiding being judgmental and issuing condemnations. Criticism is to be exercised with calm and patience.

As to literary style, I am not against elegance, but I favor a rather straightforward approach. SIGNIS reviews should not be high-end critical pieces intended to please learned minorities. When tackling complex issues, they should do it in a clear and understandable way; they should be informed, but not erudite; well written, but not overly elaborated.
Finally, I usually find convenient, if space allows, to include a credits list, as comprehensive as possible.



BIOGRAPHY

ADRIAN L BACCARO





LEONERA/ LION’S DEN

Argentina/ Corea del Sur/ Brasil, 2008,
113 minutos
Director: Pablo Trapero

Premio SIGNIS: (fuente: signis.net)
"Leonera": Premio SIGNIS en el Festival de La Habana 2008
El jurado internacional de SIGNIS, que celebró este año sus bodas de plata en el festival habanero, fundamentó el premio "por mostrar cómo en una realidad tan dura como es la cárcel de mujeres embarazadas, es posible encontrar un sentido por el que la vida merece ser vivida en primera persona".




SHORT REVIEW

La palabra leonera nos remite etimológicamente al lugar en que se encierran los leones o a una habitación muy desordenada. Sin embargo una acepción ligada al mundo de la justicia penal nos indica que la leonera es el espacio donde los acusados aguardan el momento de ingresar al tribunal donde dictamina la justicia. En este sentido la película nos introduce en la experiencia de su protagonista, Julia, que de tener una vida normal se ve involucrada en un crimen y como consecuencia del mismo trasladada a prisión. Más allá de la presunta culpabilidad de Julia, el verdadero drama se desata a partir de una maternidad primero rechazada y después aceptada gozosamente. Instalada en una cárcel para madres que conviven con sus hijos en la primera crianza hasta los cuatro años, Julia se rebela con toda su potencia y dignidad cuando la separan de su hijo.


LONG REVIEW


¿Qué sensaciones físicas, mentales y espirituales se revelan en una persona cuando de pronto e irremediablemente esta persona se despierta a su nueva vida en un espacio totalmente diferente y ajeno al de su pertenencia anterior? No importa cual sea la identidad; si esta se quiebra, el cuerpo y el alma pasarán de un primer estado de asombro ante lo nuevo, que inicialmente se puede traducir como parálisis, a una incipiente adaptación, para ir recuperando de a poco y a como de lugar, al menos parte de la libertad perdida (y aquí defino pérdida de la libertad como la sensación de imposibilidad de tomar cualquier decisión). Si en las primeras imágenes del film, el mencionado transplante pasa primero de cierta sensación de normalidad a la evidencia de los signos de una muerte, en la secuencia siguiente el pasaje será de la libertad física al encierro en la prisión; la configuración de este pasar se potencia al adquirir el espectador el conocimiento, y la protagonista la conciencia, de su condición de futura madre. De dar vida a dar muerte, de ser libre a ser cautivo, de ser mujer a ser madre, los estados del ser viajan en un tiempo turbulento hasta llegar a una nueva armonía.

Aunque nuestra protagonista en un principio se resista y quiera ejercer la violencia contra lo que habita en su propio cuerpo (carne de su carne, carne de su cárcel, cárcel de su carne), será inevitable para Julia que la felicidad, siempre en potencia, no empiece a ser recuperada a partir del amor que ella aprenderá a ejercer de la mano de sus nuevas madres-compañeras de prisión. La secuencia donde las madres llevan a sus hijos en sus cochecitos paseándolos en la prisión y compartiendo sus juegos con una música extremadamente alegre después de tanta desdicha, nos dice, como pocas veces en el cine, que la felicidad de una comunidad, aún en el peor de los infiernos, es posible. Entonces la pasividad inicial se volverá energía pura y resistencia impaciente ante la forzada separación del hijo, principal fuente de la ilusión de una nueva dicha.

Aquel momento de locura donde la protagonista se rebela ante la certeza de la separación, derivará pacientemente hacia formas inteligentes que implicarán a la postre salir definitivamente del lugar de pasaje a nuevas formas de libertad que solo se podrán reconstruir en el futuro. No sabremos casi nada de Julia, ni cómo era antes, ni cómo será después de sus ritos de pasaje por aquellos espacios donde nunca soñó transitar. Sin embargo intuimos que hubo algo, cierto estado de decadencia personal que la lleva hasta su prisión. En la leonera todo será duro aprendizaje. Nada sabremos tampoco de su devenir. Aunque nos llene de esperanza.



CRITERIA FOR REVIEWING


Antes de reflexionar sobre algunas características de la metaescritura sobre el cine, debo hacer una referencia a mi pubertad. Desde los 11 años empecé a leer las críticas de los diarios y a escribir las propias luego de ver una película (unas 80 por año); eran mediados de los setenta y recuerdo perfectamente como me llamaba la atención los palmarés de OCIC en las publicidades de los films, sobretodo porque empecé a ver esas películas y a descubrir un mundo más allá de Hollywood. No puedo afirmar ahora si El arbol de los zuecos (Ermanno Olmi), Solaris (Andrei Tarkovsky) o Padre, Padrone (Hermanos Taviani), tuvieron premios OCIC, pero por ahí andaba el tema. Y estas películas me resultaban fascinantes, mundos y experiencias increíbles, imposibles de soñar.

Hace algunos años Signis me dio la posibilidad de participar del Proyecto Cine Mundo Chico en Argentina y hoy mi trajinar docente me permite acercarme y reflexionar con mis alumnos adolescentes sobre películas/experiencias donde ellos mismos son los protagonistas, en films como El Bola (Achero Mañas), Machuca (Andrés Word) o Ahora o Nunca (Gabrielle Muccino), entre tantas otras.

Me interesa, tanto en las películas sobre las que escribo como en la que trabajo con adolescentes y adultos, partir de las emociones que nos transmiten las historias, pensar en qué es aquello que nos conmueve y por qué. Repensar desde la propia experiencia, descubrir mundos nuevos, comprender la diversidad cultural, que es aquello en lo que nos parecemos a los personajes y sus mundos, y que es aquello que nos diferencia de ellos, siempre sobre la base del respeto hacia el otro.

Uno puede creer que elige las películas sobre las que escribe; sí, es cierto que nuestra mirada crítica nos hace llegar a lugar impensados y que tenemos una predisposición casi innata, a buscar más allá de las superficies de lo comercial; pero estoy tentado a decir que las películas nos eligen a nosotros; nos interpelan, nos motivan, nos dicen aquí no terminan las cosas (luego del The End), debes decir algo sobre esto. ¿Para qué? Para afirmar siempre que hay un cine que nos ayuda y nos enseña a vivir, hay un cine que nos cambia y con ello transforma la realidad, y que además esas enseñanzas no se terminan nunca, porque nuestros mundos siempre están llenos de problemas de los que tenemos que hacernos cargo para que las cosas mejoren y para que nuestras vidas tengan nuevas esperanzas y utopías.

Para escribir prefiero no hacerlo sobre una primera visión, aunque las sensaciones que me provoca esa primera vista son una guía intuitiva sobre los temas que me interesará marcar. De este primer nivel emocional paso luego, en una segunda visión, a un análisis racional, donde me resulta imprescindible armar la escala de secuencias para entender con mayor profundidad la lógica del relato y donde a su vez observo detalles visuales o fragmentos de diálogos que por lo general refuerzan las primeras intuiciones. Para mi resulta imposible no buscar interrelaciones entre las historias que nos cuenta la película y las experiencias propias, no solo experiencias de vida sino también relacionadas con la reflexión expresada en otros textos propios y ajenos (literarios, pero también audiovisuales, gráficos, etc.). Finalmente viene la escritura que intento se expanda de manera libre, casi automática, como guiada por una mano invisible, a la que tendré que darle una formalización adecuada para intentar comunicar las ideas de una manera mas o menos comprensible y amena. Entiendo que la intención final es promover que el lector se acerque a la obra dándole algunas razones de por qué puede ser importante esta aproximación, así como contribuir con elementos conceptuales para una reflexión que contribuya a promover la sensibilidad social sobre los problemas contemporáneos.



BIOGRAPHY

Vive en Buenos Aires, República Argentina; tiene 45 años, es Licenciado en Ciencias de la Comunicación Social (UBA- Universidad de Buenos Aires), Realizador de Cine y Video del Instituto de Arte Cinematográfico (Escuela de Avellaneda, especialización documental) y Postgraduado en Capacitación Docente para Polimodal y Enseñanza General Básica 3. Actualmente maestrando e investigador de la Universidad de Nacional de Quilmes en la Maestria en Políticas y Gestión de Industrias Culturales. Educomunicador y docente especializado en asignaturas de Comunicación, Medios y Lenguaje Audiovisual, para niños, adolescentes y adultos. Coautor del libro libro “Plano Secuencia, 20 películas argentinas para reafirmar la democracia”, escribe comentarios de films y fichas didácticas para trabajar con el cine en el aula en diversas publicaciones y paginas web. Realizador de varios cortometrajes documentales. Fue Jurado Signis en los Festivales de Mar del Plata, BAFICI (Buenos Aires) y San Sebastián; forma parte también las Delegaciones Internacionales de Signis en la IV y V Cumbre Mundial de Medios para Niños y Jóvenes, en Rio de Janeiro, 2004 y Johannesburgo, 2007.

LLOYD BAUGH CANADA



JESUS OF MONTREAL
Canada, 1989, directed by Denys Arcand

SHORT REVIEW

Denys Arcand’s Jesus of Montreal (1989) examines the complex issue of representing Jesus in film. The film proceeds on two parallel and then converging levels. On the first level, Arcand represents the efforts of Daniel, a bright, courageous young actor to produce a Passion play on the grounds of a Catholic shrine in Montreal. On a second level, he represents a number of scenes from the Passion, in which the actor-director plays the role of Jesus. When the play runs into problems with the authorities of the shrine and then with the law, the experience of Daniel converges with that of Jesus, making him a classical Christ-figure.


LONG REVIEW, INCLUDING CRITERIA FOR FILM REVIEWING

Denys Arcand’s Jesus of Montreal (1989), probably the most-popular Canadian film ever made, not only provides a great entertainment experience but more importantly, it investigates in new, original and challenging ways, many of the complex issues involved in the representation of Jesus in film.

This makes it a valuable film text to use in the context of the Christian community and the Christian experience: in religion, spirituality and theology courses, in seminars and discussion groups, and for retreats and prayer experiences.

Arcand structures his film in two parallel narratives that he then has converge and cross. In one, he represents the efforts of Daniel, a talented young actor, to produce a Passion play at a Catholic shrine in Montreal. Then at several points within that story, Arcand represents scenes of the Passion play that Daniel and his friends write and perform; Daniel himself plays the role of Jesus.

A demythologizing text, very popular with audiences, the play gets Daniel in serious trouble with the authorities of the shrine and with the law. From the beginning of the film, Arcand develops parallels between the experience of Daniel and that of Jesus, but as the clouds gather around the young actor-director, his suffering converges with the Passion of the Jesus he is representing, making Daniel a classical Christ-figure.

Arcand’s film is particularly important in the Jesus-film tradition because it is the only film that represents the Gospel narrative both directly and metaphorically, and has the same actor represent both Jesus and the Christ-figure. This unique characteristic offers some strong challenges to viewers—believers and non-believers—regarding the relevance of the Gospel to life in the world today.

Arcand’s film also develops a multifaceted sociopolitical critique of post-modern, post-Christian French- Canadian society, that also clearly extends far beyond that culture. The institutional Church is subjected to strong criticism—the priest-director of the shrine is the saddest, most tragic character in the film—but at the same time, Arcand decries the loss of faith and religious culture that for centuries had characterized Quebec society.

Then beyond the religious dimension of contemporary culture, the film levels its most bitter attacks on the mass media and the legal profession: media people are compared to the money-changers in the Temple violently rejected by Jesus, and a sleazy lawyer becomes a powerful metaphor of Satan.

If, in his previous and bleak film, The Decline of the American Empire (1986), Arcand’s strong social and moral criticism of Quebec society offers no way out, no hope, in Jesus of Montreal, and his professed agnosticism notwithstanding, he proposes much hope in the courage and integrity of Daniel and his friends, and in the Christian model of experience they live out.


To establish the context for this reflection on how I write film reviews, I will begin by saying that I am an academic and have worked in university settings for many years. In my early academic formation, I did degrees in English literature that have determined several dimensions of my approach to cinema: the treatment of a film as a text, with structure, plot, characters and settings; the analysis of symbols as expressive; the focus not only on what a film means but on how it communicates that meaning.

My later formation as a Jesuit added two elements to my academic baggage: theological categories and themes and formal studies in film esthetics and history. These determined the theme of my doctoral dissertation, which developed an interdisciplinary film/theology approach to cinema that continues to mark my teaching and writing twenty years later. Further, the pastoral-sacramental ministry that is a significant dimension of my identity as a priest continually modulates my hermeneutic when I write about cinema.

The most fundamental aspect of my consideration of a film is that of knowing and respecting my audience: their age, cultural composition, education and the specific occasion of the writing. Writing comments on Scorsese’s Last Temptation of Christ for a parish Sunday bulletin and for a graduate theology seminar, call for different approaches.

Further, my experience is that most audiences look for the meaning of a film in its content, in what the film says, without giving serious consideration to its form, its style, to how it says what it says. In doing so, they miss a wide range of the film’s expressive strategies. A film is a film, not a novel, poem or painting, and its filmic nature must be understood and appreciated. When I write about a film, I focus on how its meaning is communicated by both its content and its style, in the rich dynamic between the story it tells and the stylistic and technical strategies adopted by the director that move the narrative in a given direction and shape its meaning. Pasolini’s Gospel According to St. Matthew is a classic example of the importance of this twofold approach.

My interest in a film usually involves identifying and evaluating its theological or religious significance. Sometimes this is a straightforward procedure, e.g., when dealing with a Jesus-film, where the theological themes are clear and explicit. It is more challenging when the film makes no reference to God or religion, or indeed seems to negate God and the spiritual dimension of human experience. My position is that such a film text, if it is created with moral and artistic integrity, e.g., Kieslowski’s Decalogue Nine, has theological meaning, albeit implicit, discernible in the anthropology of the director, in the dynamic of the relationships among the characters, in their moral choices, and in the director’s critique of society and even of religion and the Church.

Typically, Christian audiences presume that the only valid approach to a Jesus film or a film about some issue of Christian belief, is by using the Gospel text and theology as a hermeneutic to decipher and critique the film text. The Gospel and Christian teaching are the standard, they control and judge the film, sometimes imposing themselves harshly and often merely pointing out where the narrative of the film diverges from the gospels. Though this can be valid exercise, I also operate another approach, by changing the movement of the interpretative dynamic. Reversing the hermeneutical flow has the advantage of respecting the film text, allowing it to comment on the Gospel and to suggest new and fruitful dimensions, meanings and applications of the biblical and Christian tradition.

Following the lead of the French philosopher, Paul Ricoeur, I usually insist on two interrelated points when it comes to interpreting and evaluating a film. First, viewers are not to be passive in front of the film text and its meaning, but rather are to participate actively in the construction of that meaning, bringing to the film their own experiences, ideas and feelings. Second, viewers are not to accept uncritically or to focus exclusively on the declarations of directors regarding their own films, as if these were the only basis for valid understanding.

Further regarding film directors, and in particular when their films ostensibly have significance for the Christian faith—films about Jesus, the saints, church history—I avoid referring to the faith or non-faith of the director as a criterion for determining the orthodoxy of the content and themes of the film. The declarations of orthodox Catholic belief of Scorsese and Gibson do not guarantee the orthodoxy of their film portraits of Jesus, while the declarations of non-faith of Pasolini do not prevent his Jesus from being the most faithful film representation of the Jesus of the Gospel. Experience teaches that often, films praised by the Church for their orthodox Christian vision are made by directors who openly declare their agnosticism or atheism, e.g.: Romero, Thérèse, The Seventh Room. In short, the focus should be on the film text and on what it, and not the director, says.

However, when considering a film made by an auteur, a director with a extensive filmography—Arcand, Scorsese, Gibson—I find it fruitful to measure the film in question, its themes, its anthropology, its style, over against other films by the same director. Often one film, used as a foil, will reinforce another by the same director, either positively or negatively, and make its themes more clear.

As a corollary to this idea, I also find it useful when considering one film, to interpret and evaluate it in a comparison-contrast dynamic with films by other directors which examine the same subjects and themes, but inevitably in different styles and with different moral, spiritual and theological perspectives, e.g. the Jesus films of Pasolini, Jewison, Zeffirelli. I have found the “dialogue” between or among contrasting films and their often contrasting points of view, to be proficuous for clarifying the merits or demerits of the film under examination.

Awareness of the audience, respect for the film qua film, sensitivity to its implicit theological themes, familiarity with other films by the same director and with the same subject, and an active approach to the construction of the meaning of the text: all are important considerations in the way I write about film.



 
BIOGRAPHY

Lloyd Baugh, a Canadian Jesuit priest, is Professor of theology and film studies at the Pontifical Gregorian University in Rome. His doctoral thesis in Fundamental Theology at the Gregorian was a study of the Christian anthropology of Ermanno Olmi (The Tree of the Wooden Clogs, The Legend of the Holy Drinker ) in his first eight films. He has taught also in Canada, the USA, England, Spain, the Philippines and Madagascar. Author of Imaging the Divine: Jesus and Christ- Figures in Cinema, his other areas of research and publication include the cinema of sub-Saharan Africa, the Decalogue films of Kieslowski, spiritual and moral themes in film and the use of film texts for prayer, retreat experiences and interreligious dialogue. He is also active in the campus ministry program at the Gregorian. At the present time, he is engaged in a major research project on the theme of “the African face of Jesus in film.”

FREDERICK M. CHAMBERLIN






THE KILLING FIELDS
US, 1984, Director Roland Joffe.



SHORT REVIEW

The horror, the carnage, the terrorism, the political intrigue, the inhumanity of the war in Cambodia in the 70s is the background to the story of friendship and loyalty between a New York Times correspondent, Sydney Schanberg, and his Cambodian assistant and interpreter, Dith Pran, in a powerful, moving and thoughtful film based on Schanberg’s New York Times Pulitzer prize-winning reports.


LONG REVIEW

The Killing Fields is based on a US foreign correspondent Sydney Schanberg’s experiences in Cambodia in the early and mid-70s, of his friendship with his Cambodian assistant and interpreter, Dith Pran, and how the form of Phnom Penh to the Khmer Rouge forces on April 17, 1975, was to change their lives.

With his local knowledge and contacts, Dith Pran (played by Haing S. Ngor) was able to supply Schanberg (Sam Waterston) with opportunities for front-page stories in the New York Times which made Schanberg’s reputation.

Produced by David Putnam (Chariots of Fire, Local Hero), The Killing Fields quickly moves from scenes of devastation following a misdirected US bombing attack on a village which kills hundreds of civilians, including children, and shortly afterwards we witness the turmoil consequent upon the advance of Khmer Rouge forces against the truth of the Lon Nol government.

With Schanberg’s help, Dith Pran manages to his one his wife and family, but chooses to remain behind himself, for which Schanberg blames himself later.

When Schanberg and two other western journalists are arrested by the Khmer Rouge, they are clearly earmarked for execution. It is only Dith Pran’s lengthy and persuasive pleading that effects their release.

With the Khmer Rouge in control, all Cambodians are ordered out of the cities into the countryside, and foreign correspondents are expelled.

Dith Pran disappears, seemingly without trace, and Schanberg returns to the USA to adulation and awards, including the Pulitzer Prize.

For four and a half years Schanberg is haunted by thoughts of the fate of his friend back in Cambodia where an estimated 3 million Cambodians (of a population of 7 million) die under torture, labour camps or by summary execution.

The second half of the film shows the conditions under which Dith Pran suffers and his extraordinary will to survive. For survive he does. In 1979 he escaped to Thailand where Schanberg is reunited with him. The film clearly indicts the policy of the Nixon Administration vis-a-vis Cambodia in the final days of the Vietnam war. And we are spared nothing of the horrors of the Khmer Rouge regime and the wholesale killings which followed its coming to power.

The film is a stark portrayal of the torment of war and of the particular enormity of civil war, in which brother is killed by brother and it only requires the frown of an indoctrinated child to provoke a bullet in the brain.

The Killing Fields is the most moving and thoughtful film of my recent experience. It is deeply moving both on the level of the suffering of the Cambodian people and of the personal friendship with Schanberg and Pran.

The performances of Sam Waterston and Haing S. Ngor (the latter winning and Academy Award for Best Supporting Actor) are beautifully sustained. As a non-professional Ngor scores a personal triumph in the mini-faceted role of Pran.

Director Roland Joffe has succeeded admirably in his evocation of the turmoil, the devastation, the chaos of war and of the holocaust which follows in this case.

The Killing Fields is a powerful film which demands to be seen and its various messages pondered.

The scenes of carnage, torture and sudden death are graphic, but are integral to the story.


CRITERIA FOR REVIEWING

Film reviewing is not done according to a set of hard and fast rules. Inevitably each review will bring to his assessment of the film something of himself – his background, his education, his interest in and knowledge of film, his reading, his politics, his preferences, his prejudices, his values – in short, all the bits and pieces which made him the person he is, with the intellectual equipment he possesses.

It will help if he has a love of cinema. He must have at least an interest in what he is doing.

And his style of review will be dictated to a greater or lesser degree by the readership for which he is writing. It is not a question of “writing down” to one’s readers; rather it is a matter of meeting their needs and expectations. Obviously a review heavy on film theory would be of little interest to a general readership, while it might very well be welcomed by students of film or readers of an academic film journal.

I have been reviewing films, on and off, for 50 years, mainly for church publications. This has meant I have a special interest in the moral and social implications of what appears on screen.

It is often said that films simply reflect society and its interests, attitudes and values. But in reflecting them, films also tend to reinforce them. And there is no question the cinema – joined these days by television, popular music, radio and advertising – plays a major role in creating needs and forming the attitudes of viewers and listeners.

As a counterbalance to this, I have always tried to direct the attention of readers to elements in a film of which we should take account if we are to make a Christian response to what is presented on screen. This has been contained in the note accompanying the classification (or rating) of films, which latter I have always intended should be taken in conjunction with the review.

I find it interesting to note that for the past few years the Film Censorship Board has ruled that in advertising material its PG, M and R classifications be accompanied by statements like “adult scenes”, “high-level violence”, “medium level coarse language”. I have been doing this since 1959, being more specific and detailed in the reasons I had for my classifications.

Film-making is a cooperative process. It requires the sum total of the creative skills and the technical know-how of a large number of people. Stay and study the list of credits at the end of any film; regularly hundreds of individuals are acknowledged.

For the greater enjoyment her screen entertainment, it helps to know something of the contribution made by different individuals – director, cinematographer, scriptwriter, musical director, et cetera, et cetera. The same is true of any of the arts – music, drama, ballet, painting. And it is true of our enjoyment of many things in life are in the arts – sport, for example.

Film reviews present an opportunity to draw attention to the major contributors to the film-making process. My view has always been the most basic element in any successful film is a good script. A good script doesn’t necessarily guarantee the success of the final product; it has to pass through so many hands before we see it on screen. But no director can make a silk purse out of a sow’s ear.

BIOGRAPHY

Interest in cinema goes back more than 50 years. Edited booklets on media appreciation for high school students in early 50s. Have reviewed over the years for church and other publications.

Since 1951 I have been associated with a L’Organization? Catholique Internationale du Cinema. Established the Australian Catholic Film Office in the 1970s. Director until 1994.
Have been a member of the OCIC juries in Venice, Berlin, Cannes and Manila festivals. Member of OCIC Directors Committee, 1980-90.

Fred Chamberlin died at the age of 74 in 1996.

CYNTHIA CHAMBERS US



IN THE VALLEY OF ELAH

US, 2007,

Directed by Paul Haggis.

SIGNIS Prize, Venice, 2007.


SHORT REVIEW

A murder mystery skillfully led by Hank Deerfield, Tommy Lee Jones, former Vietnam veteran and MP, who embarks on a journey to find his son Mike, recently returned from Iraq tour of duty and now AWOL.

With Emily Sanders, Charlize Theron, a local police detective, Hank overcomes righteous patriotism to discover the PTSD truth of his son’s charred remains. Post Traumatic Stress Disorder, what happens to a soldier’s mind after experiencing the trauma of war, proves as disturbing as the war. This monstrous Goliath defines America’s Valley of Elah, a hell to face in the aftermath of Iraq.



LONG REVIEW

Inspired by actual events, this murder mystery skillfully unfolds through Tommy Lee Jones, cast as Hank Deerfield, former Vietnam veteran and MP, a father in search of his son Mike, recently returned from Iraq tour of duty and now AWOL.

Tommy Lee Jones’ hardened facial expressions disguise his character’s past pain of having lost one son, and grief of another son’s death to be shared with his wife Joan, portrayed by Susan Sarandon. Hank, a righteous man, unshaken in faith and patriotic values, doesn’t oppose the war but wants to find the truth to his charred son’s remains.

Accompanied by local police detective Emily Sanders, played by Charlize Theron, Hank embarks on a search that unveils horrors of the Iraq war zone. His son’s camera video provides a clue. Through glimpses of this video director Paul Haggis artfully personalizes the larger picture of Iraq hell – roadside bombs, orders to treat all civilians and children as threats. This prompts the audience to reflect on how the war in Iraq has molded soldiers fighting it. An interview with Mike’s murderers, fellow soldiers, demonstrates the shocking disconnect from killing and loss of human element. This disconnect, PTSD or Post Traumatic Stress Disorder, happens to a soldier after experiencing the trauma of a war zone.

Based on the biblical story of David slaying Goliath in the Valley of Elah, this story symbolically reminds the audience of a separation with thousands of soldiers shipped abroad to endure abominable conditions for extended time while defending comfortable lives at home. It’s an atmosphere at home where no one notices the horrific reality as there is no evidence such as cargoes of body bags shipped back like Vietnam. Americans support their troops abroad, but how does America face the monstrous Goliath of PTSD when their soldiers return home?

An opening scene defines that a nation signals “international distress” by flying their flag upside down. Hank Deerfield begins his journey by uprighting the hanging of an inverted American flag and ends his journey with purposely inverting the hanging of an American flag. The upside down “Stars and Stripes” flaps in a gusty breeze and the screen somberly fades to black.



CRITERIA FOR REVIEWING

In 2009, President Obama announced his plans for American troops to leave Iraq in 2010. It was a short interlude before the President announced his plans for America to occupy Afghanistan. It’s a great shame to realize that in my lifetime America may always be at war. In 2007 I had the opportunity to serve as a SIGNIS Juror at the Venice International Film Festival where In The Valley of Elah competed. The Press Conference, following this film’s opening and featuring Paul Haggis and Cast, left a lasting impression. As an American it was daunting to witness the heat of Foreign Press questioning our nation’s motives for occupation in Iraq. What is America thinking? Does America realize what’s happening? What is America planning to do? Overseas, America is truly a country signaling “international distress.” Privately, this prompts me to reflect on my disengagement with the war and seriously question what our presence in Iraq is doing to us.

When reviewing a film, and particularly as I proceeded with In The Valley of Elah, I make every attempt to connect with the human element both emotionally and spiritually through memorable scenes, script, or characters that spark a similar personal experience. An opportunity to attend a Press Conference where the director and cast are purposely interviewed definitely personalizes a film’s effort, as likewise the opening film caption, “Inspired By Actual Events.”

On a deeper level I look to my own life. Having no family member nor relative who has served or suffered casualty in the Iraq war, I consider the film script.

One scene from In The Valley of Elah remains outstanding in my mind.

“If this is the way he left the earth, I don’t see I have any choice.”

Hank Deerfield insists on viewing the horrific, charred remains of his son. As a teenager I suffered the loss of my older brother to a car accident in which his body was badly mutilated. Just as Hank Deerfield, my father was advised it was not necessary to view his son’s body. Like Hank Deerfield, my father insisted upon seeing his son’s body regardless of the gory details. I’ve often thought of this as the final act of courage, mercy, and respect my father gave to his son. Although we never spoke of it, I’ve often wondered of the haunting imprint this painted in my father’s memory. I experienced the depth of pain in my father’s eyes that Tommy Lee Jones portrayed through the eyes of Hank Deerfield.

Exploring the spiritual element further, I must ask myself what strength or moral lesson do I garner as the audience? The obvious symbolic message In The Valley of Elah is to face our fears with the confidence of God’s grace as David slew Goliath. Delving more deeply, one might strongly consider the aftermath of Iraq, significantly God’s grace and PTSD. How does our Father in Heaven look upon us in the mutilation and disembodiment of our human element? Perhaps this will be God’s final act of mercy and respect for his creation.



BIOGRAPHY

B.S... West Virginia University (Magna Cum Laude), M.S.. Health Science/San Francisco State University, A.A.. Broadcast Communications/College of Marin

Professional Program in Drama... American Conservatory Theater, Professional Program in Screenwriting... UCLA, Advanced Professional Program in Screenwriting… UCLA, Summer Workshop in Film Production... UCLA, Internship Daybreak Productions/ Universal Studios

Screenplays/Teleplays::
“Quadrant VI”... Action Dramedy Feature
“Liquid Assets”... Romantic Comedy Feature
“The First First Man”... Political Romantic Dramedy Feature
“Sassy Santa”... Christmas Fantasy Comedy Feature
“King Coal”... 1940 Periodic Drama Feature
“The Practice”... Teleplay
“West Wing”... Teleplay
“Boston Public”...Teleplay
“Grey’s Anatomy”...Teleplay

NICK CRUZ





MAYNILA, SA MGA KUKO NG LIWANAG/ MANILA, CLAWED BY THE LIGHT

Catholic Mass Media Best Picture Award
Directed by Lino Brocka


REVIEW AND CRITERIA FOR REVIEWING


Maynila, sa mga Kuko ng Liwanag is the story of Julio, a poor village fisherman in his search for his missing childhood sweetheart, Ligaya, lured to seek greener pastures in the city of Manila. We have heard or read this story hundred times before, but it is the way Lino Brocka related it that makes this film a work of art, worth seeing. Julio’s search for Ligaya became a perilous odyssey that brought him to the lurid, unkind and dehumanizing city of Manila only to find out that Ligaya ended up as a kept mistress of a Chinese businessman, Chua Tek. When he finally found her, they agreed to run away. But she never showed up at their trysting place. Because Chua Tek killed her when he found out her plan to escape. To avenge her death, Julio confronted Chua Tek and killed him.

Maynila…is definitely a milestone in Philippine cinema. It will do down as either the film that stopped the slide into mediocrity and mindlessness or it may turn out to be the lone, gloriously defiant stand against apathy and indifference. In one brilliant stroke of genius, Lino Brocka dramatically conveys this message in that incidental shot of the popular movie star Nora Aunor’s songbook magazine literally and figuratively being buried under the debris of discarded wood and garbage. It’s as if Brocka wished to tell Filipino filmmakers that it’s high time to raise the standard of filmmaking into the level of art. And the art of the requires something more durable than mere information or entertainment. And that something is usually a personal style that a director can impose on the subject he is dealing with. The style of Maynila… is the use of visual and aural rhythm with a “dream” motif. It is a ritual, a ceremony of repetition in which there are recurring images punctuated by songs that enforce their meaning. Thus, Julio’s fellow laborer, a frustrated singer-turned worker sings “Dreamin’, I’m always dreamin’
Dreamin’. Love will be mine
Searchin”. I’m always searching
Searchin’ , Someday I’ll find.
This song introduces early in the film the dream motif that weaves the film together into an artistic patter, enabling Brocka to develop a rhythm of mounting suspense and anticipation through the repeated flashback of Ligaya, always as illusive as a dream as she is ravishingly beautiful and desirable; the repeated shots of Chua Tek’s apartment with its forbidding closed windows which imprisons Ligaya forces us to experience the moment of expectation and waiting which is so large a part of life and so often omitted from art. It forces us to experience the character’s longing deeply. Then, we hear the plaintive tune of “The Impossible Dream” being played in a street corner where Julio is standing and waiting for that window to open. And when, they finally met, they meet, the meeting itself is like a dream, fleeting and transitory. Twice it is interrupted almost before it begins, one inside a church, the other inside a movie house, driving the two to seek shelter and privacy in a drab motel to snatch fleeting moments of happiness. The climax shows the beautiful face of Ligaya superimposed on Julio’s face crying in anguish, still dreaming, searching for the impossible dream.

Herein lines the beauty of the film, ranking it among the best, if not the best in Filipino film art, Filipino style. The moviegoer who fails to recognize the visual and aural rhythm at work in a film is therefore deprived of one of the fundamental elements of film enjoyment. But if we find the film too difficult at times to watch, like the films of Ingmar Bergman or Federico Fellini, it is because these directors demand too great patience of us; it’s because we are used only to having our emotions coarsened by cheap and mindless movies, like Fast and Furious or Borate and we can’t stand the approach of directors who are capable of doing the opposite.

This is not to say that Maynila…is a perfect film. To impose his own idiosyncrasies on a film, Brocka has to take risks with his directing. He has to be a groper and inevitably he stumbles in some scenes. For instance, the gay world sequence is so protracted that its impact is lost but that se against Maynila…as a whole is a minor fault, because one is grateful for all the rest.

The richness of Brocka’s vision, however, is not confined to the purely artistic for he has created a film of social commitment, a film that confronts a social problem, that speaks for those without a voice, namely, the faceless poor for whom a minor incident becomes a personal tragedy and toward whom society is cruel and indifferent. Julio’s story is that of an ordinary young man and millions of stories that are happening everyday: the plight of the poor lost in the harsh jungle of city life.

Julio’s story is developed like a search, his search for Ligaya, lost in Manila. Because of the way the search for Ligaya is structured, the film is a virtual compendium of social comment, revealing the exploitation of the working class, the toughness of living at the bottom of the social structure, the sullen pettiness of the police towards the poor, the fate of the provincial young boys and girls lured to find jobs in big cities, the dehumanization of urban society, illustrated by the call boys, prostitutes, heartless Chinese merchants and pimps and illegal recruiters.

What seems to be a simple, linear story is really a story of suspense, of relationships , an expose of the ills of city life, all these interwoven with such skill that audience involvement is total. But Maynila…is no all “claws” (kuko), for these are people like Atong and his sister Perla, who help Julio find some solace and peace in the midst of all the chaotic and polluted air of Manila. There is Pol, Julio’s best friend, a co-worker, whose humanity shines through brilliantly amid their poverty. The are the blessed of the Gospel. They carry their cross with resignation, sometimes even with joy. There are also examples of atrocious human behavior like Mr. Baladia, the merciless construction boss and Mrs. Cruz, the high priestess of the slave market who sold Ligaya to Chua Tek. But they are not the real villains; for they too are as much victims as Julio and Ligaya of a dehumanized and dehumanizing society, whose only god is money, whose only goal is power. They area all prisoners of an economic situation and outside forces that crush the freedon of the individual and destroy the joy of living. Maynila…is a film with social concern. But its concern is with people. Brocka seems to be saying that we muc be concerned with Julio and his story because we are human and so is he. And if it is critical of the social order, its criticism is implicit and not imposed. Everyone who is sane, without exception, is against poverty, crime and all forms of slavery. It is not very difficult to be right about the basic issues of comity. What is difficult is to reflect one’s attitude or one’s rage in terms that can move an audience.

Nothing is more tiresome than the film which tells us what we already know on terms of what we have experienced or seen before a hundred times. Originality of expression is very important in this kind of film. And this is what Maynila…has beautifully achieved. For it captures a dilemma, crystallizes it in human terms and renders it with compassion. Audiences know a good film when they see one, because audiences have an uncanny ability to recognize the truth. Now matter how powerfully a position is expressed, its concern must be truthful or it will be merely a technical triumph.

In Maynila, Brocka has created richly delineated characters who do not represent points of view or philosophies of life but who simply exist as mysterious and unfathomable human beings. And their world is drawn with Lino Brocka’s faultless care for detail especially in its immediate physical aspects, thanks to Mike de Leon’s stunning cinematography, which has transformed Manila into a nightmare of images, ideas and forms all harnessed to a strangely disturbing vision of impending doom, an excellent example of the creative us of lighting, a skillful blending of the artistic (in mood and effect) and the real (in consistency of light). Among the actors, Hilda Koronel is incredibly beautiful as Ligaya Paraiso. She has never been more radiant and rarely so moving and vulnerable. In flashback after flashback she seems to embody the pristine innocence crying out against a cruel world. Her bedroom scene with Julio will remain one of the truly moments of film acting. It is fruitless to speculate whether a suppler actor than Rafael Roco (Julio Magadia) could have revealed more of Julio, who could have portrayed his desperation with more intensity. As it is, Julio must be revealed more through his world than his own person and he is quite believable in a role which would have been a difficult task for a trained actor.

While the film belongs to Hilda Koronel and Rafael Roco, the rest of the cast is a joy to watch even though most of them have short appearances. To single out the more outstanding ones: Lou Salvador, Jr. in perhaps his last appearance in local movies, gives a very sensitive performance as Atong; Pio de Castro III is delightful as the student worker, while Tommy Abuel shows he is capable of far better things as Pol. Julio’s trusted friend. But what to me gives the film the feel of reality are the construction workers, the slum dwellers, the people in the street, in the market place, a living mosaic of humanity more sinned against than sinning.

There are marvelous scenes in this film which upon first viewing may seem too long. What is one to make of the long series of shots of Julio as he waits for the policeman to emerge from the store or the poignant meeting between Julio and Ligaya in a dingy motel room, These scenes are very much to the point in this sort of filmmaking for they form the rich tapestry, the humanistic background of the story of Julio’s encounter with a brutal and cruel city of Manila.

As we watch Julio staring at that closed window hoping to get a glimpse of Ligaya, receiving unexpected contributions from his fellow-workers for his cigarette, standing vigil by the lifeless body of Ligaya at the funeral parlor and finally trapped between him and his pursuers and a high wall after a long run, turning to us and having his anguished face suddenly frozen, our deepest concern and compassion is aroused.

A Filipino filmmaker has made a work of art out of the novel of Edgardo Reyes, has moved us with his concern for the defenseless, the vulnerable, the innocent, without for a single instant descending into sentimentality. Most objections to the film will not be about its violent ending (which is very controlled), not it repellent sequence of homosexuality (which is in no way sensationalized), nor its isolated images of nudity its, at times, vulgar language. Instead, some may find the ending with its implication that corruption is built into our social institutions and that the individual is powerless against the might, to be the underlying message of the film. For those who have seen Brocka’s prior film, Tinimbang Ka Ngunit Kulang (You Are Weight But Wanting), it is evident that Maynila, sa mga Kuko ng Liwanag is a metaphor for the themes of social imperfectability and human corruption. The film’s ending does forces us to think of the film as a challenge to all of us to be concerned with the Julios and Ligayas in our midst. How can we watch this film and not read into it an indictment of everything in our society that is heartless, stifling, without compassion. Society has not merely deprived Julio and Ligaya of their basic right to the dignity of work. It deprived them a portion of their souls and killed them. The film challenges us to make Julio’s dream come true.



BIOGRAPHY

Nicasio Cruz S.J., Ateneo University of Manila, Associate Professor, Department of Communication.

MARIE PAUL CURLEY, United States




THE VISITOR

US. 2008.
Richard Jenkins, Hiam Abbas.
Directed by Tom Mc Carthy

INTERFAITH PRIZE, BRISBANE, 2008


SHORT REVIEW

Invite The Visitor into Your Home

The Visitor is a gem of a film that deserves wide viewing. Some may find its subtle graciousness too slow, but others will find it richly rewarding.

Richard Jenkins’ marvelously understated performance as Walter Vale gives us a glimpse into the soul of a professor whose narrow life is pried open when he discovers an illegal immigrant couple living in his apartment. When Walter realizes they have nowhere to go, he invites them back. This unexpected act opens Walter to a life-changing relationship with his visitors, played by Haaz Sleiman and Danai Gurira. Writer/director Tom Mc
Carthy weaves their compelling performances into a haunting story-tapestry.

Highly recommended.



LONG REVIEW:

Invite The Visitor into Your Home

The Visitor is a little known gem of a film that deserves both greater viewership and its numerous awards, including an Oscar nomination for Richard Jenkins’ lead performance, and SIGNIS’ Interfaith Award at the Brisbane International Film Festival, 2008.

The Visitor is a subtle film that explores several life-changing weeks in the life of Walter Vale, played by Richard Jenkins. Walter is a professor whose rigid, narrow life is pried open when he discovers an illegal immigrant couple living in his New York City apartment. When Walter realizes that he has turned them out on the streets, he invites them back to stay the night. This single act of graciousness opens Walter to an unexpected friendship with his guest, musician Tarek Khalil (Haaz Sleiman), a Syrian from Damascus, and his girl friend, Zainab (Danai Gurira) from Senegal.

Tom Mc Carthy has written and directed a well-crafted, layered gem that may feel too slow for some, but for many will be richly rewarding. Like the character of Walter himself, the film has a slow graciousness to it that allows us to enter the vulnerability of the characters, but without tiresome over-psychologizing. Mc Carthy weaves compelling, understated performances, subtle subtext, and Jan A.P. Kaczmarek’s evocative soundtrack into a haunting story-tapestry. But it is Richard Jenkins’ marvelous soul-revealing performance which crowns the film.

One of the most intriguing aspects of the film is its title. After I finished viewing it, I kept asking myself, “Who is The Visitor?” In many cultures, the visitor has a sacred importance. From the Jewish Scriptures, to Jesus’ words in the Gospel, to Tolstoy’s story Martin the Cobbler, how we encounter an unexpected visitor can be a turning point in our lives.

The most obvious “visitor” would be Tarek, who so freely shares his music with Walter, even when he is in danger of being torn away from his loved ones. But it could also be Mouna Khalil (Hiam Abbass), who relies on Walter’s hospitality so that she can be near her son. Or is it the paradoxical immigrant to the U.S., so necessary for bringing new energy to our complacent and decadent culture, but who is now so unwelcome? Perhaps it could even be Walter himself who, through his newfound friendships, becomes a visitor in the unfamiliar world of immigrating to the U.S.

Highly recommended for both its human and spiritual values, especially in its recognition of the human dignity and rights of immigrants.


CRITERIA FOR FILM REVIEWING

The Secret Skill of a Film Reviewer

One secret prerequisite for the job of reviewing films is the ability to wear many hats.

As a screenwriter and video producer, when I review a film I have many “hats” I can choose to wear. Some of my most important hats are:
• the writer’s “safari hat,” which focuses on the journey of the protagonist(s) through the script, themes, subject, and context
• the director’s black baseball cap, focusing on story development, production values, and the overall impression the film will make (story, theme, lighting, camera work, performance, editing/pacing, sound and visual effects, etc.)
• the media literacy Sherlock Holmes deerstalker hat which helps me to investigate the filmmakers’ choices and to challenge uncritical assumptions
• a gold-buckled leprechaun hat, representing my own personal history and aesthetic taste

But probably the most important hat I wear is the veil which is part of my religious habit as a sister. My veil encompasses the perspectives of all my other hats, but specifically chooses faith as the context for my analysis. I look at the film as a cultural art form in dialogue with spiritual, theological, and moral values.

So, which “hat” do I wear when I sit down to watch a film? This may come as a surprise, but I try to take off all my hats at the beginning of every film. This is a conscious and deliberate choice. My first “job” as a viewer is to pay attention to the film itself, and it’s a courtesy I ask of those who view my work as well. I can’t and don’t want to divorce myself from my values, taste and history, but I can choose not to “arm myself” with a protective hat, so that I am able to see the film clearly for what it means to me.

It’s hard to keep my hats off if, after twenty minutes, I don’t find myself caught up in the film. Usually my lack of engagement indicates that the film is poorly done--formulaic, clichéd, or simply not credible. If the filmmakers have been careless or thoughtless in using the rich “language” of film, then I lose interest. But film is such a rich medium that even not-so-great filmmakers often get one or two dimensions down quite well. And it’s possible to gain insight from what a film lacks as well as what it “gets right.”

After I’ve seen a film, I try on all my hats, because each is valid and enriching. If I watch the film a second time, I’ll wear several hats at once or switch between them, paying close attention to how specific aspects of the film illustrate or bring out the overarching theme.

How the film reveals, uplifts, dismisses, or degrades the dignity of the human person is probably the most important single criteria I use. But I also have a specific list of foundational criteria that I look for. Every film I recommend must:

• possess outstanding technical and artistic quality (or at least competent) that strives for integrity
• provide insight into the mystery of the human experience, promote the dignity of the human person, witness to the giftedness of life, or affirm respect for family life
• open a window to the transcendent
• reinforce a Christian worldview (through the dramatic resolution of the story, not necessarily because characters are Christian)
• illustrate one or more Gospel values, such as faith, hope, love, redemption, forgiveness, reconciliation, justice, peace, etc.

Wearing my different hats as a communicator who enjoys both creating and consuming media, I recommend those films that, in the thought of Pope John Paul II, are a creative voice which speaks to humanity’s deepest longings.



BIOGRAPHY

Sister Marie Paul Curley, fsp, is a member of the Daughters of St. Paul whose mission is to communicate Christ through the media. A former video producer, Marie Paul currently dedicates her time to writing, screenwriting, and assisting young women to discern the call of God in their lives. Marie Paul hosts a monthly “Faith and Film Night” at the Pauline Book & Media Centre in Toronto, and occasionally reviews films for a Catholic audience and on her blog. She has a B.A. in communication from Emmanuel College, and is looking forward to the release of her fourth book in November, 2009.

JAN EPSTEIN





BLACK ROBE

Australia/ Canada, 1991, director Bruce Beresford.
OCIC Australia award, 1991


SHORT REVIEW

In the raw beauty of French- Canada in the 17th century, a Jesuit priest experiences a spiritual crisis as his own rigid theology is challenged by a growing love and respect for a tribe of savage Indians. A sometimes harrowing but engrossing odyssey of the soul, which gives insight into world’s very different from our own.

LONG REVIEW

Bruce Beresford’s Black Robe turns Brian Moore’s novel of the same name into a magnificent film. Set in French- Canada in 1634, it tells of a Jesuit priest who is catapulted into a spiritual crisis when he is sent by his superiors in Québec on a journey 1500 miles up the St Lawrence River to replace a sick priest on a remote Indian mission.

Moore wrote the script for the film, and Beresford has translated it to the screen with all the clarity and intellectual muscle of the original. Director of photography Peter James’s wilderness is masterly. The total impact of the film is both painterly and spiritual, an odyssey of the soul that captures the flavour and texture of a century that stands in stark distinction to our own.

Set on location in North Québec in late summer, Black Robe is filmed as the seasons progress. Memorable scenes abound: the fragile brilliance of a rainbow against a frozen sky; canoes paddling on a wide reach of water painted with hyperreal clarity and colour, the stark, Goyaesque figures of the “black robes” in their blue-black habits in the harsh winter light.

Father Laforgue (Lothaire Bluteau) is the focus of the film, a dour, humourless Jesuit whose ambition in life is to “harvest souls for God” or die a martyr. Lothaire Bluteau (Jesus of Montréal) is perfect as Laforgue, an intense and puritanical man of rigid beliefs, whose former life as an aristocrat in Paris is revealed through flashbacks which pierce his consciousness in the form of reveries. But in the savage beauty of the New World, love form to narrow theology is challenged by his encounter with the Indians, and for the first time in his life, he responds to human suffering not with his head but with his heart.

Black Robe, epic in scope, is a poetic, exotic tale about the clash of rival cultures. Beresford’s juxtaposition of the competing spiritualities – the stern belief of the “black robes” that there is no salvation beyond baptism against that of the polygamists, pleasure-loving Indians who believe in the power of dreams – forms the spine of the film, and the opposition and parallels are wonderfully evoked.

Beresford counterpoints the inner and outer worlds of the competing cultures. At the fort in Québec, for instance, Champlain, the governor, dons the panoply of his office in preparation for a parley with the Indians, while Chomina the Algonquin chief (played superbly by August Schellenberg), dons his ceremonial robe and necklace, decorated with locks of the scalps of his enemies. The Indians beat their drums and shake their rattles, while the French blow their pipes and crank their hurdy-gurdy. Laforgue, lost in the forest, sees the tapering trees as the fluted columns of a cathedral. Mestigoit, the Indian shaman, calls Laforgue a sorcerer, while to the Jesuit, the shaman is a devil.

It is impossible not to view Black Robe through 20th-century eyes, but Beresford has opted for a non-judgemental stance. His film is an attempt to understand a part of the metaphysical landscape and spiritual earnestness of the 17th century in both the old and new worlds, and his achievement is to draw equal sympathy for the Jesuit and the Indians. Both can be shocking. We are perplexed and repelled by the unquestioning belief of an intelligent, cultivated Frenchman in the physical reality of Hell. Likewise, we recoil in horror at the Indian practice of subjecting an enemy to protracted torture, in order to possess his soul the moment that he screams in agony.

Although Beresford’s subject is the 17th century, this is a modern film, free of romanticism and childish notions of the noble savage. What we witness instead is a voyage into the “heart of darkness” which tells us much about ourselves. It transcends horror and speaks not about despair and madness, but compassion and love born out of pity.


CRITERIA FOR REVIEWING

My approach to film reviewing is threefold. I feel a responsibility to the film, to evaluate it fairly in the light of my essential subjectivity; a responsibility to myself to plumb the reasons for my emotional and intellectual response to a film, honestly, without fear or favour; and a responsibility to those who will read or listen to my review, to make my communication as clear and precise as possible. I also write with an eye to giving pleasure by my prose.

Obviously whichever magazine, paper or radio station I am writing for or broadcasting with, is crucially important in deciding the mode of address, the length of review, and depth of analysis. Writing for the Entertainment Guide of The Age, say, demands a looser, more vernacular style than writing for The Melburnian, but this doesn’t necessarily mean sacrificing content. One simply has to be more cunning. Writing for Cinema Papers, on the other hand, which is a specialist magazine, requires greater exegesis. Research skills are necessary, arguments need to be deployed and sustained for long passages, and language invariably becomes more complex. I try to avoid jargon, however, as this is often a mask for faulty reasoning, or the fact that one has nothing original or interesting to say.

The Melburnian, in which the review of Black Robe was published, has enabled me to develop my own style over the years, which is tailored to the magazine’s readership. This is middle-class, independent in its thinking, and arts-oriented.

My primary impulse when viewing a film, apart from the simple enjoyment of watching “moving pictures”, is the desire to understand what the film is about. This desire to understand what a film means, either intentionally or unintentionally, preoccupies me even when the film I am watching lacks merit. I am driven then to discover why it fails, which in turn can be understood by seeking to understand what the film-makers were trying to achieve, and by measuring it against films which succeed. Reading film this way is not unlike trying to make meaning from life itself. Cinema is the most illusory of the arts. Its ability to mimic life and reflect back to us our image and that of the world, is exciting and uncanny. This dialectic is enjoyed in the womb of the darkened cinema where, Fellini says, we dream with our eyes open. Just as men and women have been driven from time immemorial to interpret dreams, so it seems to me that in the dreams and nightmares of film-makers, we can learn much about ourselves and what fuels our fears and fantasies.

Films fascinate because we love stories, but films are more than narratives. A film’s meaning is conveyed through visual language of cinema, and a reviewer’s task is to evaluate the success or failure of the vehicle that carries the story, by devising criteria for evaluation which in the end must be subjective. While there is consensus amongst many filmgoers, film-makers and film reviewers about what constitutes a good film or not, subjectivity is ever present. If a film reviewer keeps an open mind about films in all their manifold variety – that is, if the film reviewer truly loves film – then it becomes possible to applaud films that one does not necessarily like, and to feel sympathetic towards films that are flawed, but worthwhile. Subjectivity is natural and cannot be avoided. In some cases it can be the hallmark of a good reviewer. This subjectivity denotes the reviewer’s temperament, and provides a further factor to be included when evaluating the worth of a critic’s opinion.

There are many ways of looking at a film, especially if the film is very good, provocative and interesting, or very bad. No review or opinion is finite, either in what one can say about it, all regarding our own temporaneity. What one likes today, tomorrow can seem passé. Films, like film reviewers, will ultimately be judged through the passage of time.



BIOGRAPHY

Jan Epstein is a film critic for a range of Melbourne magazines and radio stations. She has taught communication studies at Victoria University of technology. She has served OCIC and SIGNIS juries and is an Associate of the Catholic Office for Film and Broadcasting.

E. SAMSON ERUDIAM





THE ITALIAN

Russia, 2005, director Andrei Kravchuk.
Hong Kong, Prize, 2005



SHORT REVIEW

This film celebrates the triumph of the human spirit, personified in a small, orphaned Russian boy, who battles successfully against those engaged in human trafficking and who market human beings as commodities. This is a dramatically compelling film that reveals goodness and love in unexpected places; exposes greed and hypocrisy in society’s institutions; and awakens in us hope and faith in our ability to choose our own destinies and be guided by our truest values."


CRITERIA FOR REVIEWING

Films have always fascinated me from the time I was a little boy. The acting, the characters, art direction details and above all the story are the ingredients I look for. This seems to be true for me even to this day. For instance in India, when a filmmaker has a good story, he is sure of a box office success. So over the years and even to this day, cinema is a fascinating medium for me not only as entertainment, but also as emotional experience.

As I grew older, the message that comes across seemed to be more an issue. Naturally, over the years the cinema has evolved and the trends in cinema story telling has also changed from era to era. Having played my role in OCIC for the last 30 years I have given this medium much attention and it still continues to fascinate me.

I would like to share my experiences and the basis on which I review them and I must emphasise here that my reviews are more oral in nature when I conduct seminars. I highlight family values in cinema, relationships, Spirituality etc. The experience I wish to outline here was in Hong Kong in the year 2007 when I was invited to be part of the SIGNIS Hong Kong Jury during the International Hong Kong Film Festival. I had the pleasure and privilege to be with my dear friends in the same business, Fr. Jerry Martinson, sj, from Taiwan and Ms. Catherine Wong from Hong Kong. During this festival we had to see about a dozen films of many languages.

All the films had the above values mentioned and were of fine quality. I noticed the different ways in which some of the filmmakers were telling their stories. The arid landscapes in the Kurdish film “Half Moon” to the freezing cold islet scenes in the Russian film “The Island”, from a small family’s daily chores and anxiety in the Chinese film “Raised from Dust” to the social concern expressed in the drama style African film “Bamako”, all portrayed great depth and meaning in life’s struggles, joys and hopes.

The film that touched me deeply is the Russian film “The Italian”. The film starts with an Italian couple wanting to adopt a young boy from a Russian orphanage managed by dubious characters. By giving away a child for adoption the lady director of the orphanage makes money. The couple is shown a young lad, Vanya. They are taken up by his looks and mannerisms and immediately express their desire to adopt him. From then on he is called “The Italian”.

While waiting for the court order, Vanya learns more about the orphanage and the goings on in it. He realises that he must locate his biological mother. But he needs to get to the Children’s home where he was sent as a baby. The director of the orphanage discovers this and threatens Vanya, which strengthens his resolve to leave. He manages to steal the address of the children’s home from the office files. With the help of an older inmate he escapes and begins his journey. His adventure now begins and he has to always be a step ahead before danger comes his way.

All 3 members of the jury found the acting of the children superb and natural. The director, Andrei Kravchuk, says that getting the best from children is to “treat them as adult actors and actresses.” We were touched with the facial expressions of Vanya when he encounters difficult and happy moments during his escape. He showed so much courage in his resolve to find his mother. The people whom he encounters especially those who help him, give us a feeling that there is hope and that the human civilization is not all that indifferent to the plights of persons in need.

The courage of Vanya through these obstacles, including being beaten up by rough kids at the train yard does not deter him from the mission of his life. What is this drive that keeps him moving ahead, is a question that lingers on. The climax is different. It is not so much the finding of his mother, but what the assistant of the orphanage director does when he locates the boy in heavy rain hiding near some houses waiting to meet his actual mother. The assistant moves in to grab the boy and a scuffle ensues. The boy threatens to kill himself by repeatedly cutting his wrist with a broken bottle. The assistant curses him and moves away telling him to “go to hell”. But something in him tells him he should help the boy. Overcome with compassion he turns around and runs to the boy. Though hurt himself by an earlier scuffle, he uses the bandage from his own arm and wraps it around the boy’s wound to stop the bleeding and sits with him till the rain stops. It seems a symbolic moment when the rain stops and everything is clear in the man’s mind. He lets the boy go. This scene in my opinion is the important message of human concern for another. In short, courage on the part of the boy and compassion on the part of the man.

The message in the final analysis seems to be that which questions one’s inner soul to search for true meaning in life. During the presentation of the best film award the citation mentioned before presentation sums up the feeling of the jury. "This film celebrates the triumph of the human spirit, personified in a small, orphaned Russian boy, who battles successfully against those engaged in human trafficking and who market human beings as commodities. This is a dramatically compelling film that reveals goodness and love in unexpected places; exposes greed and hypocrisy in society’s institutions; and awakens in us hope and faith in our ability to choose our own destinies and be guided by our truest values."



BIOGRAPHY


Diploma in Pastoral Communications, Centre for Interdisciplinary Studies, Gregorian University, Rome


1969 - 1975 : Radio Broadcaster
English News Reader and Continuity Announcer,
Voice of Malaysia
Kuala Lumpur

1985 to the Present: English New Reader, Voice of Malaysia

1970 - 1990 English News Reader and Continuity Announcer
Blue Network, Radio Malaysia

1981 - 1988 Television Malaysia
English News Reader and weekly Talk Show
Compere

1967 Part-time audio-visual producer
St. Joseph’s Audiovisual Centre, Sentul

1971 Production Co-ordinator
Diocesan Audiovisual Centre
Kuala Lumpur

1976 Full time Programme Coordinator
Catholic Communications Centre
Kuala Lumpur

1984 - 1991 Director
Cahayasuara Communications Centre
Kuala Lumpur

PATRICK FAHEY UK




A MAN FOR ALL SEASONS

UK, 1966,
Directed by Fred Zinnemann

OCIC Grand Prize 1967


SHORT REVIEW

'A Man for All Seasons' tells the story of statesman Thomas More's disagreement with Henry VIII over the matter of the king's divorce. The film is an eloquent depiction of More's struggle to argue for the authority of the Catholic Church, and to protect himself using the letter of the law, once the state obliged him to forswear his beliefs.

Director Fred Zinnemann provides a sharp but understated period atmosphere, never dwelling on the wonderful sets and costumes. Paul Scofield is magnificent as the isolated man whose unwillingness to compromise the truth led him from high office to lowly martyrdom.


LONG REVIEW

Agonising yet uplifting, 'A Man for All Seasons' wrings stirring drama from Thomas More's resonant refusal to sanction Henry VIII's divorce.

Adapted by Robert Bolt from his stage success, this gripping, handsome film argues that government without conscience is "a short route to chaos", and that the corridors of power can lead all but the most innocent into spiritual peril.

Anchoring the film is Paul Scofield's beautiful performance as the intelligent, compassionate and dryly humorous More (unwittingly wrong only in his certainty that he is "not the stuff of which martyrs are made.") Robert Shaw also stands out, appearing briefly as a robust, troubled Henry, driven into something resembling bipolar disorder by guilt issues which he thinks More's approval could sponge away.

Director Fred Zinnemann slowly puts the squeeze on his solitary hero (as he did in 'High Noon') and More is manoeuvred into a position where his only chance of survival is a strategy of silence on the contentious divorce question. Bolt's script excels here, as language becomes a matter of life and death, words become weapons and silence provides shelter. The palaces, manor houses and courts of Tudor England are shot with a stately reserve which subtly heightens the impact of offhand references to the torture and execution awaiting those perceived as traitors.

There is sly (and enduring) political comment in the portrayal of a land covered in surveillance, where corrupt officials seek ruthlessly to enforce a uniformity of personal opinion. The film remains reticent, though, about the anguish that is surely inevitable on the way to the executioner's block. The interrogation scenes are written so dazzlingly that they prove positively entertaining, playing like witty logic debates, instead of feeling like alarming abuses of power. Even in his dank cell in the Tower of London, separated from his family, More never seems really sick with fear. Perhaps Bolt, for all his eloquent dialogue, is too English a writer to daub More in a sweat of blood as his Gethsemane looms.

In prizing More's sense of selfhood, the film achieves something quite different from biopic or hagiography. It succeeds in skewering life's bullies, busybodies and 'yes men' - those shrugging opportunists who will leap into the mud to keep the king smiling. Better to see the mantrap close in on you, says this affecting film, than to let the truth be concealed by the spirit of the age.


CRITERIA FOR REVIEWING

In a sense, everybody reviews films. No cinema visit with friends is complete without the discussion after the film (often enough known as the post-mortem). Even children, the least experienced of filmgoers, can't emerge from the cinema without mulling gleefully over their highlights and announcing, "I like the bit where..."

Writing a review for publication does, of course, demand a somewhat sterner degree of discipline. When I started writing reviews, I was given just one line of guidance: 'Hit the deadline and hit the word count.' (Sound advice to focus the mind.)

Clearly there is no 'correct' way to review a film. The way that works best for me starts in the screening room as I make notes furiously throughout the film, capturing the plot outline, memorable dialogue, telling moments and passing observations that flit through my mind. With this method you end up effectively with a blueprint of the film. (You also end up with writer's cramp). Assuming that you are later able to decipher these notes, as scrawled in the dark, unseen, at knee level, you should find them very useful when, with your deadline looming, it comes to marshalling your thoughts.

Which is the hard part. Sitting at the computer late into the night, longing to produce an informed, flowing and absorbing assessment of the film in question, yet staring at an ever-growing scroll of tangled phrases and abandoned paragraphs, the lonely film reviewer can experience something akin to a foretaste of Purgatory. Well, keep at it. What seemed an irretrievable mess will, eventually, with industry, pull together into a coherent whole. And finally, be prepared for the editors to knock it into shape. Certainly it can be annoying if they come along and spoil your lovely text, but it can be much more annoying if they come along and improve it.

So why put yourself through it? Why not leave reviewing to others and spend your time instead watching more films? Or indeed helping out at the soup kitchen?

The key to it may have something to do with what a certain priest once called 'the ministry of the pen'. The world isn't about to stop reading. Writers are still going to write, and they'll be coming from every conceivable angle. Why not have your say? (Perhaps that is one way we can be 'salt to the world'.)

Film is a global language; a hall of mirrors in which mankind is invited to see himself in any number of lights, by turns flattering, harsh, amusing and so on. The debate about films will go on with or without your contribution. Why wouldn't you take your turn with the megaphone?

Reviews should not simply convey opinion. Good reviews share knowledge and communicate an understanding of what makes a film tick. David Lean always delighted in what he called "the elegant pleasures of cinematic sleight of hand". The reviewer should be able to point out the ways a film exploits (or fails to exploit) that compressed interplay of story, acting, photography, editing, design, sound and music that makes for a good film.

Like any expression of ideas (alongside conversations, interviews, books, broadcasts and the rest), film is one more place where the cosmic battle between good and evil can take place. For films have power. They are a window on the world. They express the aspirations and the anxieties of their society. They affirm norms. They give voice to causes and magnify what has gone largely unremarked. They can move, manipulate or entertain, and nudge people, however slightly, towards hope or despair. Films' incognito spying on characters' private actions, desires and sufferings automatically engages the moral sensibility of the audience. No less than psalms or parables might, films stir up in us outrage or affection, disdain or compassion.

The urge to write about films is the same urge that, as C.S. Lewis points out, makes us want to share a beautiful view of a landscape with someone else, or to let others know about it later. Our enjoyment of something good is completed by our praising of it. Wanting to articulate our reactions to any form of art is natural, and film, with its immediacy and its glorious storytelling scope, is liable to draw strong reactions.

Finally, reviewing should be fun. You get to contribute to the great, ongoing, international conversation about the stories which the world tells itself. And in celebrating the wonderful gift of cinema, you come down from the still of the gallery and, waving your arms and stomping your feet, accept your invitation to the dance.

DOUGLAS FAHLESON US




BABEL

US/MEXICO, 2006

Directed by Alejandro Gonzalez Innaritu


Ecumenical Jury Prize, Cannes 2006


SHORT REVIEW

A sad and harrowing tale which expertly weaves three seemingly disparate family stories together into a global tapestry and as a result sheds some light on the interconnectedness of the human condition.

The three stories consist of an American couple traveling in Morocco, a nanny returning to her native Mexico for her son’s wedding, and a deaf Japanese teenager desperately searching for a human connection of her own in Tokyo.

Babel, like the story from the Old Testament, is ultimately a portrayal of just how difficult it is to honestly communicate with one another in an increasingly shrinking world.


LONG REVIEW

A sad and harrowing tale which expertly weaves three seemingly disparate family stories together into a global tapestry and as a result sheds some light on the interconnectedness of the human condition.

The three stories consist of an American couple traveling in Morocco, a nanny returning to her native Mexico for her son’s wedding, and a deaf Japanese teenager desperately searching for a human connection of her own in Tokyo.

Each of these stories focuses in some manner on a relationship between a parent and a child. The relevance and apparent lesson is that we first learn to communicate through our connection to our parents. Babel is ultimately a portrayal of just how difficult it is to honestly communicate with one another in an increasingly shrinking world.

A goat-herding Moroccan father acquires a high-powered rifle for his sons in order to keep predators at bay. His two young sons begin the film by setting off a chain of events that will resonate for the viewer for the remainder of the film. A bullet from this gun pierces the metal shell of a tourist bus, hitting an innocent victim.

The Tokyo story is particularly heartbreaking and could even exist on its own if extended to a full-length feature film. The deaf teenage girl yearns for a connection with anyone as her internal anger resonates from serial rejection manifesting itself in several instances of social misbehavior. This slice of the story is psychologically accurate and quite compelling.

If anything negative can be said for this film it is that there is no beginning and no end, rather it is more a snapshot in time, and then life goes on. Instead of witnessing one hero on his journey, the emotional power of the story is diminished by having us peer into the lives of several people we don’t get to know all that well. But this results in another of the film’s central themes — not only does every action have a consequence, but every inaction does as well.

Both writer Guillermo Arriago and director Alejandro Gonzalez Inarritu (also collaborators on Amores Perros and 21 Grams) are at the top of their game here. This production is of the highest standard, with excellent music, cinematography, and performances, making this an all-around, compelling work of art.

It is a film that will stay with you long after the credits finish rolling.



CRITERIA FOR FILM REVIEWING

A good film must above all else move me. This is just a plain and simple truth, which in reality, is a very difficult thing to do.

What I mean is that I respond first and foremost to a film from an emotional point of view. Many people go to films as an escape, some go to have a laugh, others are looking to explore. Me? I go to be moved. And the first question I ask myself after experiencing a film is, “Did this film, in some manner, in some way, pierce my heart?”

What does it really mean to move someone? It’s more than simply inducing a deep emotional reaction. It’s more akin to connecting emotionally with what Jung calls the “collective unconscious” — that aspect of humanity that we all share that responds in a more or less similar way to the basics of love, empathy, pity, anger, joy, remorse, gratitude, frustration, jealousy, regret, desire, etc. Think of it as viewing the film through a catholic lens — that’s catholic with a small “c” — denoting universality and man’s shared humanity.

A good film is more than just a series of moving images. It’s comprised of so many complicated and complex elements, like parts of a car, that if any of them are not working properly, or are missing, or are incorrectly placed, then the entire film suffers.

Think of the various parts of a car that are necessary for it to run properly. These parts must be expertly assembled and well integrated for it to be an automobile that is received well by the buying public. It is the sum of these parts.

The same can be said for a film.

The most important part of the car — the frame — serves as its foundation, that part of the car on which all of the other important parts must attach themselves to. It is the core, its central strength. And in a film this frame is the script. A well-made film must first begin with a strong script.

The engine of a car provides the horsepower that propels the frame. A car can have an engine too small for its size and suffer in performance or the engine can be too large and cause stress on the frame. A film’s engine is its ensemble of actors. Actors rely on emotion to fuel their performance. We’ve all seen acting performances which have elevated otherwise sub-par material and vice versa with an otherwise great film that is lacking because of a lead performance gone astray. An excellent film contains acting performances that are truthful, compelling, and deeply emotional.

The transmission and steering wheel are integral components of a car. The transmission converts the engine’s propulsion and allows the wheels to turn. The steering wheel controls the car’s direction. In a film these two components are represented by the director. He or she closely monitors and helps shape the actors’ performances as well as determines the direction of the story.

The headlights and windshield on a car provide illumination and visibility, especially with respect to the external influences of Mother Nature. If either is dirty or marred then the driving experience will be hampered. In a film this area of responsibility is in the hands of the cinematographer, who works with the elements of light to best capture the visuals of a film.

The tires, wheels, and suspension system of a car keep the foundation firmly attached to the road and the ground beneath. The road may be full of potholes or wet and slippery but the tires must continue to hold their traction and the suspension should keep the ride smooth at all times. A film’s editor helps smooth out any mishaps that might occur when shooting the film and ultimately protects the frame of the film, the script.

A finely tuned exhaust system doesn’t bring attention to itself. It doesn’t make erroneous backfires. Its purr should match the throttle of the engine. In a film the musical score best represents this as it runs through the whole of the film, subtly highlighting key emotional moments and never bringing attention to itself in doing so.

All of these parts must work seamlessly together to produce a rewarding product.

You may like minivans or sports cars and I may like sedans but as moviegoers we’re all just test drivers. We get into a film and let it take us for a ride. Our riding experience depends much on our preferences and what aspects of a film we appreciate and respond to the most.

The first several minutes of our film experience set the tone and we may ask ourselves — am I in good hands? If I can trust the vehicle that’s taking me on this journey then I will tend to sit back and suspend any lingering disbelief. If I cannot then I will continue to be on the lookout for glaring cracks in the narrative, picking apart specific shot selections, and shaking my head at a moment when an actor’s emotion is truly not believable.

A good film must have no false notes. And by this I mean that it should be honest according to the human condition. One false story note could begin to eat at the whole of the film like rust to the undercarriage of a car. A false acting performance is akin to one of the pistons misfiring.

Cars (and films) are being made in more countries now than ever before. Many of the traditional manufacturers have lost their ability to innovate. They’ve lost their creativity and have suffered as a result. The more interesting cars (films) are now being made by the non-traditional manufacturers who are able to create them with a unique and rewarding freshness.

Whenever I first take my seat in the theater I will continue to hope that I’ll be rewarded by a film that is well made, interesting, and provides an emotional experience that pierces the heart…

ALAN FOALE UK


THE FULL MONTY

UK, 1997.
Directed by Peter Cattaneo.


SHORT REVIEW

The Full Monty is a touching blend of social realism, fairy-tale and humour set in contemporary Sheffield.
Times are hard. Gaz (Robert Carlyle) needs money and comes up with the unlikely idea of a strip-tease, Chippendales-style. He and his mate Dave recruit their team, all recognisable individuals with personal, marital or sexual problems.

The money matters to all of them, but more important are the themes of self-respect and mutual support in the face of adversity. Despite everything, they learn to work as a group, overcome embarrassment and move their lives forward a little. It’s a 90% happy ending.

It is not a solution to mass employment, but it is a witty and sympathetic account of ordinary people’s lives.


LONG REVIEW

In contemporary Sheffield six hard-up men decide to perform a strip-tease to make some money. This could be a piece of reportage about the post-industrial world and the victims of Thatcherism in the social realist tradition of British cinema, or perhaps a successor to the lumbering sex comedies of the 1970s.

In practice The Full Monty is neither erotic nor pornographic and its social realism is tempered with humour and gentle fantasy to produce an engaging, almost prudish account of ordinary blokes (and to a lesser extent their wives) grappling with a range of difficulties.

The characterisation is sharp, each character individual and convincing: Gaz (Robert Carlyle) the former steel-worker, still behaving like a thoughtless teenager. Dave, the self-styled ’fat bastard’. Lomper, the suicidal security man who lives with his ageing mother. Gerald, status-conscious and unable to tell his wife that he has lost his job. Horse, with his ironic nickname. Guy, dim but well-endowed. All have some personal, marital or sexual difficulty at odds with their traditional notions of masculinity and gender roles.

The wives and other family members generally make a better job of paying the bills and maintaining ‘normal’ family life. In a neat role-reversal Gaz’s son Nathan is mature beyond his years and ultimately helps dad grow up a bit.
The observation of the various milieux and social niceties is economic and effective: the facades of different houses, glimpses of gardens, casual street scenes, the waste land of the city are all familiar. The pithy dialogue, up-beat music and combination of situation comedy and farce all contribute effectively.

The money matters but is overtaken by the more important themes of self-respect and mutual support in the face of adversity. Despite the men’s obvious shortcomings (too fat, too thin, balding, bad hip, can’t dance and more) they learn to work as a group, overcome embarrassment and move their lives forward just a little. It could be a modern fairy-tale with its 90% happy ending.

Originally released in the UK in August 1997, The Full Monty benefited from the euphoria following the landslide election victory of the Labour Party in May. Hopes were high for social regeneration, greater social justice and an agenda of respect. Watching the film again in 2009 is sobering, the present economic crisis fuelling another wave of anger and sense of powerlessness. The Full Monty does not claim to offer a solution to mass employment but Gaz’s short-termism and the precariousness of the men’s situation are more poignant. It remains a witty and sympathetic account of ordinary people’s lives but still a fantasy.



CRITERIA FOR REVIEWING

Explain… Explore… Entice… but not necessarily in that order.

These aims seem to me to summarise the ideal of the film reviewer.

Film reviews are traditionally written on the assumption that readers have not yet seen the film concerned, so the writer must provide a certain amount of factual or quasi-factual information. Hence the plot summary, however brief, which gives a basic explanation.

Reviews also need to explore characters, narratives, themes and techniques so as to suggest why a film might be significant and how it aims to hold the audience’s attention.

Finally, reviews offer an overall opinion about the film to help readers judge whether or not it is for them. Enticing the potential spectator should not be an uncritical public relations exercise for the distributor but should encourage the reader to approach a film in an appropriate, thoughtful and sympathetic manner.

A review of 100 words leaves little room to do more than provide a brief plot summary, indicate genre and stars (or lack of them) and offer a summary evaluation of the film. A review of 400 words allows the writer to start to examine themes in more detail, relate the film to wider social, cultural and aesthetic concerns and offer a more nuanced evaluation with clear supporting evidence. But even with 400 words there is little room for more than headlines.

As always, reality is more complicated. The boundaries of the film review are ill-defined: film reviewing, film analysis and film criticism are partially overlapping activities which may all be more or less sophisticated in their approach, depending on their scale, site of publication and intended readership. At one end of the spectrum we have film treated as simple entertainment: the colloquial writing of the tabloid press, magazines such as Empire and Total Film and many web-sites aims for immediate impact. It is readily accessible to a very wide readership and often assumes wide prior knowledge of mainstream (American) movies. On the other hand, it is not remotely concerned with foreign-language films or experimental and avant-garde works. At the other end of the spectrum we have film treated as intellectual stimulation and a serious form of cultural expression: the formal writing of Sight & Sound aims for precision and depth and systematically avoids emotive responses. It assumes that readers are willing to consider complex and unexpected issues and borders on the academic in its range of reference.

In my own writing I probably lean more towards the latter than the former – a reflection on my professional life no doubt – although I think that this is not particularly obvious in the two pieces about The Full Monty. I have a special interest in the relationship between subjects and themes and their treatment by film-makers, but this has proved hard to explore even in 400 words. (If only I had 1,000 words to play with !) I try to place film in its wider social and cultural context but assume no academic knowledge of film on the reader’s part.

In reality also many reviews are read after the event, not only before viewing, so I hope that my writing gives those readers cause to reflect further on the film and perhaps find some extra dimension in it, maybe even to return for a second or third viewing. Some of my most enjoyable viewing experiences have involved rediscovering films and re-evaluating them as I bring wider knowledge and experience to bear on them.





BIOGRAPHY

Higher Education & Professional Training:

BA Honours, Modern Languages, University of Oxford, 1972.
MA, Film Studies, Sheffield Hallam University, 1993.
Certificate of Education (FE), Huddersfield Polytechnic, 1990.


Employment:

My professional career from 1975 until retirement in 2008 was spent at Leeds Trinity & All Saints (University of Leeds, UK).

In this period I worked as a member of academic staff teaching French, then Media and Film. In the period 2004-2008 I was Director of Film Studies, designing and then running a series of new undergraduate degree courses in Film and Television. My special interests lie in European cinema and the amorphous and evolving field of ‘world cinema(s)’.

Wider responsibilities at different times involved the co-ordination of Access activities for mature and other non-traditional students, liaison with partner universities in France, Germany and Japan, and working on institutional exchange projects under the aegis of the European Commission’s ERASMUS and Leonardo da Vinci Programmes. In 1996-1999 I co-managed a project on professional applications of Film Studies which included a day conference for those in the ministry and caring professions ‘Seeking Understanding – Reel Feelings’.


Community-based Activities:

Since my student days I have been closely involved with the Film Societies movement in the UK and have served as a member of the National Executive Committee of the British Federation of Film Societies (1982-1987) and of the BFFS Yorkshire Regional Group in various capacities since 1979.

I also served as a member of the Film & Video Advisory Panels of Yorkshire Arts Association and Yorkshire & Humberside Arts Board in the period 1989-1996.


Film-related Publications:

Occasional reviews and articles on film topics in Film magazine and Arts Yorkshire.
From 1992 onwards, programme writer for annual study weekends of British Federation of Film Societies at Scarborough.
MA thesis on British Film Comedy published in web journal Close Up - the electronic journal of British Cinema, Issue 1, Winter 1996/97.

FRANK FROST




DAYS OF WINE AND ROSES

US, 1963, d. Blake Edwards.
San Sebastian, 1963, Prize.

SHORT REVIEW

Joe Clay (Jack Lemmon) is a 1960s PR Man who’s basically an ethical man, but who relishes the part of his job that calls for drinking. He falls in love with Kirsten Arneson (Lee Remick), a non-drinking executive secretary whom he seduces into drinking through her addictive taste for chocolate. Drinking is so much a part of their relationship that when one tries to be sober the other resents it, and they mutually follow their alcoholic addiction down a slow spiral to oblivion. While Joe regains sobriety with the help of Alcoholics Anonymous, Kirsten refuses to admit her alcoholism, even at the price of not seeing her child that she loves.

LONG REVIEW

Joe Clay (Jack Lemmon) is a 1960’s PR Man, who feels an ethical twinge when his job is to find party girls for his client but who, on the other hand, relishes the part of his job that calls for heavy drinking. He falls in love with Kirsten Arneson (Lee Remick), a non-drinking executive secretary addicted to chocolate, a foretaste of her eventual addiction to alcohol. Their romance and marriage is filled with love and bonded with booze. Their slow spiral downwards into total alcoholic dysfunction is an amazingly honest look at the toll this affliction takes on individuals and families. The film won the SIGNIS Award in San Sebastian in 1963, where it also garnered best director (Blake Edwards), Best Actor and Best Actress honors.

Their alcoholic descent is gradual. When they marry and have a child, Kirsten stops drinking for the sake of the baby. Until, that is, Joe bitterly complains that her sobriety keeps them apart and she assents to drinking with him to be close to him. (His pattern of explosive bursts of temper, followed by regret and apologies, is one of the many suggestions of addictive behavior.)

Their partying leads Joe to failures at work, while Kirsten’s drinking habits soon take over her days at home. As Joe loses five jobs in four years, they blame everyone but themselves. Jobless and sober, Joe happens to see a bum mirrored in the window of a bar, and realizes it is himself. He persuades Kirsten to stop drinking with him, and he goes to work for her father (Charles Bickford) at his nursery. After two months they feel they can let up a little on being good, and soon Joe is at rock bottom in hospital detox. This leads to his introduction to Alcoholics Anonymous, and to finding his way back to sobriety (an Achilles heel of the film is the preachy explanation of AA, which was still relatively unrecognized in 1962.) But even as Joe gains sobriety, Kirsten’s dependence on alcohol makes her feel distanced from him, and she disappears. When he finally finds her in a seedy motel, he agrees to have a drink with her so that they can feel close again. Once again he ends up in hospital detox. This time he understands that love may mean having to sacrifice being with Kirsten, if he is to remain sober for his own sake that that of their child.


CRITERIA FOR REVIEWING

As I reflect on the way I view a movie, and begin to make a judgment about it, this is what I discover.

The first thing I try to do is to simply enjoy the film on its own terms. A movie is first of all an experience and not a tool for making a moral point. A good movie will invite me into a world that I can enjoyably inhabit for a couple of hours. This is true no matter what genre it may be, whether it be comedy, drama, fantasy, or action picture. First I need to experience it. Later I’ll think about it.

When the lights come up, one of the first questions I ask myself, usually subconsciously is, “Is the film well made? Does it elevate entertainment to the level of art?” If I get to the end of a film and I find I’ve been immersed in the story, I’m ready to ask myself why it hit home with me. Was it the humor, the story that struck a nerve, the art with which is was made, or a combination of these things? If, on the other hand, I find myself during the course of the movie thinking about things that have nothing to do with the story – like how the special effects were done, maybe, or how I don’t believe the actors, or something extrinsic to the film that I’m reminded of – then chances are pretty good that I didn’t have a terribly compelling film experience. And I won’t spend a lot of time reflecting on why that was the case.

I always try to be an active viewer. As a matter of habit I make special note of the first images in the film. Sometimes they are a tease, sometimes they provide a bed for the credits, but they are almost always clues to what the director wants me to understand about the story. The movie Places in the Heart, for example, opens outside a Christian church, its unseen congregation singing a hymn that provides background music for the introduction of a diverse population that includes farmers and townspeople, middle class whites, poor blacks, homeless people and vagrants. At transitional moments throughout the story we are brought back to imagery of the courthouse we first saw at the center of town. These images knit together a plot that comes together in the final scene with a church communion service. Whatever else that movie is about in terms of story, it is about the importance of community in peoples’ lives.

Before I start reflecting on my own interpretations of a movie’s theme I want to understand as accurately as I can what the filmmakers (writers/director) were trying to communicate in the story they told. I feel there’s a kind of unwritten contract between the filmmakers and the audience that the makers will put all the necessary clues into the movie to make its meaning discernible, and the viewers will make the effort to pay attention to those details to read the meaning intended. Both understand that there is more to the story than just a series of plot events. There is an underlying attitude towards those events, creating a world view in which the story resides. Film is a very self-conscious art form in its creation. With the effort that goes into setting a scene, nothing is an accident. And so I pay attention, actively seeking to figure out what the director intends to say to me, perhaps more visually than in words.

I enjoy movies on many levels, but they start to ascend to SIGNIS Award quality for me when I sense that I’ve just been invited to glimpse in a special way, through that film, what life is all about, what it means to be human. In Days of Wine and Roses, I can feel the dreams and aspirations, uncertainties and pain of Joe Clay and Kirsten Arnesen, as they struggle with decisions that alternately become destructive and life-giving. I can feel the ache of Kirsten’s father, as he fails to find consolation in having lived a good life as he discovers that there seems to be nothing he can do to help his daughter. Because of the excellent writing and acting I believe in these characters and experience their turmoil. And I am led later to think my own thoughts about the weakness of the flesh and the limitations of imperfect love. So the movie holds up a mirror to life and I say yes, that’s what it means to be human.

Somehow over the years I’ve become convinced that a movie that rises to the level of great art must also be moral, because in some way it reflects the core of our humanity. And the inverse is also true. If I leave a movie saying, yes, that’s a profound insight into the meaning of life, then I pretty well conclude that it’s a movie that ranks as art.

I usually formulate the value of a film on a humanistic scale, particularly when I want to establish common ground with people whose cultural and religious experiences differ from mine. When I presented the SIGNIS Award for Departures to the Japanese Ambassador to the U.S. on behalf of the film’s director, the ambassador asked me what qualities of the film qualified it for an award. I mentioned the great reverence for life and the human dignity that the main character displayed in his ritual. The ambassador went on from there. “Yes,” he said, “this film expresses our core human values — values that transcend national cultures and particular religions.” This is what diplomacy is all about, and what makes SIGNIS film awards such a wonderful diplomat for the Church. I’m reminded of the opening words of the Vatican II document Gaudium et Spes: “The joys and the hopes, the griefs and the anxieties of the men of this age, especially those who are poor or in any way afflicted, these are the joys and hopes, the griefs and anxieties of the followers of Christ. Indeed, nothing genuinely human fails to raise an echo in their hearts.”

At its best, a film that truly speaks to our humanity illuminates an inner search for meaning that ultimately points to something that is more than just human, that is transcendent. In that sense it is spiritual. I usually respond most strongly to films that appeal to our best selves. But some films are more prophetic in their approach, revealing our humanity through depicting our failures to be human. A very dark movie can nevertheless be enlightening, through negative space, as it were. Whether a film is dark or luminous, it can reveal significant insights into what it means to be truly human.



BIOGRAPHY

PETER HASENBERG DEUTSCHLAND




AUF DER ANDEREN SEITE

Deutschland/Türkei 2007,
Regie: Fatih Akin

Preis der Ökumenischen Jury Cannes 2007


SHORT REVIEW

„Auf der anderen Seite“ ist der zweite Teil einer Trilogie „Liebe, Tod und Teufel“ von Fatih Akin, ein international bekannter Hamburger Regisseur türkischer Abstammung, der sich in seinen bisherigen Filmen mit interkulturellen Problemen beschäftigt hat. Der Film verbindet in kunstvoller Weise die Geschichten von sechs Personen und kreist um die Themen Verlust und Tod, Trauer und Versöhnung. Der Film ist als spirituelle Parabel angelegt, die eine meditative Kraft entfaltet und durch das Trilogie-Konzept? und speziell die Bezugnahme auf den Zufall bzw. eine höhere Macht, die die Schicksale lenkt, Erinnerungen an zentrale Themen im Werk des polnischen Regisseurs Krzysztof Kieslowski weckt.


LONG REVIEW

„Auf der anderen Seite“ sei ein spiritueller Film, hat der Regisseur Fatih Akin in einem Interview gesagt. Ungewöhnlich für das Werk Akins ist der meditative Charakter und die komplexe Verschachtelung von Lebenslinien, was den Eindruck nahelegt, dass die Geschicke der Menschen von einer höheren Macht – Zufall oder göttliches Wirken? – gesteuert werden.

Nejat ist der Sohn eines türkischen Immigranten, der in Deutschland eine Karriere als Germanistikprofessor gemacht hat. Sein Vater, Ali, der als Witwer unter Einsamkeit leidet, sucht Trost bei der Prostituierten Yeter, mit der er ein dauerhaftes Verhältnis eingeht. Yeter, die von Ali bezahlt wird, denkt nur an ihre Tochter Ayten, der sie eine ähnlich erfolgreiche Karriere wünscht wie Nejat. Als Ali Yeter bei einem Streit unabsichtlich tötet, wird er zu einer Gefängnisstrafe verurteilt. Nejat bricht mit seinem Vater. Er reist in die Türkei, um Yeters Tochter Ayten zu suchen. Diese ist als politische Aktivistin mit dem Staat in Konflikt gekommen und nach Deutschland geflohen. Dort trifft sie die Studentin Lotte, die ihr selbstlos hilft. Die jungen Frauen verlieben sich ineinander, was Lottes Mutter Susanne missfällt. Als Ayten als illegale Immigrantin entdeckt und in die Türkei abgeschoben wird, folgt Lotte ihr nach. Sie findet Ayten im Gefängnis und sagt ihr Hilfe zu. Durch eine unglückliche Verkettung von Umständen wird sie in Istanbul von jugendlichen Dieben erschossen. Ihre Mutter Susanne fährt in die Türkei und trifft auf Nejat, der in Istanbul eine deutsche Buchhandlung betreibt und Lotte als Untermieterin aufgenommen hatte. Susanne will das fortzusetzen, was ihre Tochter begonnen hat, und setzt sich für Aytens Freilassung aus dem Gefängnis ein. Sie gibt Nejat auch den Anstoß, dass er wieder Kontakt mit seinem Vater aufnehmen will.

Konflikte wie Lösungen ergeben sich daraus, dass ein Mensch einen anderen ersetzt. Yeter ersetzt für Ali die Frau. Nejat übernimmt Yeters Rolle und will Ayten das Geld bringen. Susanne nimmt den Platz ihrer Tochter ein und gewinnt Ayten am Ende als eine neue Tochter. Der Film ist in drei Kapitel eingeteilt: „Yeters Tod“, „Lottes Tod“ und „Auf der anderen Seite“. Die Todesfälle lösen starke Emotionen aus: Zorn, Verzweiflung, Trauer, Verlustgefühle, aber sie führen auch zu Bewegungen, die am Ende wieder positive Zeichen setzen, dass „auf der anderen Seite“ Trennung überwunden, Trost gefunden und Versöhnung möglich werden kann. Der Film zeigt Menschen, die Konflikte und Schicksalsschläge erleben, aber auch die Kraft haben, in der Zuwendung zu einem anderen Menschen einen neuen Sinn des Lebens und neue Hoffnung zu finden. Der Regisseur verlässt sich auf starke Bilder, die die menschliche Anteilnahme und die emotionalen Bindungen auch ohne Worte erkennbar werden lassen. Die Konstruktion der Geschichte, die als spirituelle Parabel angelegt ist, erscheint so nicht als willkürlicher Kunstgriff, sondern als Ausdruck des Einflusses einer höheren Macht auf die Geschicke der Menschen.


CRITERIA FOR FILM REVIEWING/ Wie ich Kritiken schreibe

Der erste Aspekt der Beurteilung ist für mich, inwieweit der Film die spezifisch filmischen Mittel nutzt. Film bedeutet Erzählen in Bildern und ich schätze Filme besonders, die sich auf die Bilder verlassen. Ein zweiter Aspekt ist die Konstruktion der Handlung: Ist die Entwicklung der Handlung schlüssig? Sind die Motivationen der Figuren nachvollziehbar? Gibt es eine überzeugende Verbindung von Form und Inhalt? Die inhaltliche Tiefe ist ein weiterer Punkt, der für mich von Bedeutung ist. Entfaltet der Film seine Themen so, dass sie neue Einsichten oder Perspektiven eröffnen, dass der Film Denkanstöße gibt, die anregend sind und den Zuschauer auch über die Dauer des Films hinaus beschäftigen?

Die Frage nach den Themen und Werten, die der Film vermittelt, eröffnet den Blick auf die Relevanz, die man dem Film aus christlicher Sicht zumessen kann. Das bedeutet für mich, dass der Film nicht Dogmen oder Katechismusweisheiten bebildern soll, sondern dass es ihm gelingt, menschliche Erfahrung authentisch darzustellen und nachvollziehbar zu machen, sowohl die Brüche und Tiefpunkte im Leben von Menschen, die die Sehnsucht nach Erlösung und Heilung spürbar machen, wie auch die Zeichen der Hoffnung, die andeuten, wie Leben gelingen kann. Wenn der Film sichtbar macht, wie Menschen füreinander da sein können, Fürsorge, Zuneigung und Liebe entwickeln können, kann spürbar werden, wie die Botschaft Christ von der Liebe Gottes und das Gebot der Nächstenliebe konkret Gestalt gewinnen kann. Dies ist für mich in Fatih Akins Film „Auf der anderen Seite“ beispielhaft gelungen.




BIOGRAPHY

HASENBERG, PETER, Dr. phil., geboren 1953. Studium der Germanistik und Anglistik. Studienbegleitende journalistische Ausbildung. 1978 Erstes Staatsexamen für das Lehramt an Gymnasien. 1981 Promotion zum Doktor der Philosophie. 1978 bis 1987 Hochschulassistent am Englischen Seminar der Ruhr- Universität Bochum. Seit dem 1. Dezember 1988 Filmreferent im Sekretariat der Deutschen Bischofskonferenz, seit 2001 auch zuständig für Grundsatzfragen. Seit 1989 Vorsitzender der Katholischen Filmkommission für Deutschland, die Mitherausgeber der Zeitschrift „film-dienst“ (erscheint seit 1947) ist. Mitglied im OCIC Board von 1994 bis 2001. Zahlreiche Filmkritiken und Aufsätze zum Themenbereich Film und Religion.

Anschrift: Sekretariat der Deutschen Bischofskonferenz, Bereich Kirche und Gesellschaft, Kaiserstraße 161, 53113 Bonn. E-Mail: This email address is being protected from spambots. You need JavaScript enabled to view it.

IVAN HUTCHINSON







CRY FREEDOM

US/UK, 1987, Director Richard Attenborough.


SHORT REVIEW

Cry Freedom never seemed to capture the interest of cinema audiences to any great extent. Perhaps the politics of South Africa and its seemingly insoluble problems are just too serious or even too familiar from novels and television documentaries to expect a cinema-going public, looking for escapism, to flock to it.

Yet under Richard Attenborough’s direction and in spite of structural flaws, this is powerful cinema, compassionate, moving and politically trenchant which deserves to be better known that it is.


LONG REVIEW

Richard Attenborough’s Cry Freedom begins with a raid on an illegal squatter settlement in Cape Town and ends with the massacre at Soweto. In between these powerfully staged re-enactments of actual events, the movie deals with the growing friendship and understanding between Donald Woods, a white South African newspaper editor and Steve Biko, a black activist whose death in police custody brings Woods eventually into direct and dangerous confrontation with the authorities.

Based on two books written by Woods, one a biography of Biko, the other an autobiography which details the escape of Woods and his family from South Africa, Cry Freedom is a compelling narrative, emotionally involving, gripping, and particularly exciting when dealing with the escape itself.

It attempts, within the framework of an entertainment movie (and an expensive one) rather than a documentary, to impart to general audiences sufficient background information about characters and events without becoming either too simplistic or didactic, a difficult endeavour which to a surprising degree succeeds.

Woods is presented at first as a man whose sympathies for the struggles of the black majority do not extend to the acceptance of the Black Consciousness ideals as promulgated by Steve Biko, already banned and harassed by the Government and police for his forthright and, in their eyes, dangerous statements. It is after meeting Biko personally that Woods’ attitude changes and he starts down the road which brings him inevitably into conflict with the same forces which eventually are responsible for Biko’s death and his own decision to leave his country.

John Briley’s screenplay doesn’t seem to have quite solvent the problem of how best to shape a mass of material into a well-constructed script. The sequences in which Woods gets to know Biko and comes to admire him lack real conviction, mainly because Biko is altogether too one-dimensional a figure as presented.

It isn’t exactly hagiography, but it comes perilously close and it is hard to understand from the film why Woods, a liberal compassionate man to begin with, was so wary of this Biko. The dialogue between the two often sounds less like a natural conversation than a potted history lesson, about events and attitudes of which Woods would surely have been aware.

Flashbacks to Biko in the middle of the escape sequences tend to undercut the suspense of the escape itself, and make one all the more aware that the emotional heart of the film – Biko’s treatment at the hands of his captors – has been dissipated far too early.

There is something unsatisfactory to about the re-enactment of the tragedy at Soweto. Its placement at the end of the film, where it is almost like a powerful afterthought a unintegrated into the whole, drags the focus undeniably back to the main intent of the film, but does it a a awkwardly.

In spite of such carpings, Cry Freedom is a film which should be seen for any number of reasons unconnected with its political views. It is exceptionally well acted throughout, convincing in its detail, exciting as melodrama, and basically humane and intelligent, elements found all too rarely in movies these days. Kevin Kline and Denzel Washington as Woods and Biko are a pleasure to watch, intelligent and controlled, and there are outstanding cameos from Timothy West and John Thaw as well is a scene-stealing performance from John Hargreaves.

Ronnie Taylor’s photography and the music score (by George Fenton and Jonas Gwangwa) are two other effective elements in a film which may not quite reach greatness, but at least has the courage and concern to take an important subject and bring it into a cinema too frequently concerned with the totally trivial.


CRITERIA FOR REVIEWING

Much as I love cinema, I would, if a choice had to be made, give up a dozen Gold Passes rather than my library card. In other words, the power of the written word, rather than the strength of the screen image has always been paramount in my cinema going.

It follows, therefore, that a key element in film-making to me is the script which, though it doesn’t have to be “literary” in whatever sense one defines that word, gives a film at least a basic situation, a structure and some characterisation. Without that basis – and even with it, of course, on multitudinous occasions – a film is in danger of becoming a series of images into which either too much or too little can be read.

Since an emotional response – other than, of course, exasperation – is an indispensable part of the film-going experience for me, it is as well to know just what it is one is responding to, and films which have a clear idea of what they want to say or show and how to go about saying and showing it, are the ones more likely to extract that emotional response from an audience.

The emotional response is not necessarily generated by the written word in films. There are those who would argue that the fewer words the better – and that is true, in spite of all the emphasis I put on the script. Just as Jeffrey Jones Emperor in Amadeus criticises Mozart for “too many notes”, too many movies, especially those directed by the writers of the screenplay, might as well be stage plays for the use that is made of the film medium. A picture can be worth 1000 words – but without the right caption, it’s sometimes possible to get the wrong message!

I look for a sense of humanity, a sense of compassion, a sense of personal involvement in films by the makers. I love the work of directors such as Hitchcock, Huston, Forsyth, Scorsese, Ford, Fellini (early), Bergman, Renoir, Altman, Kurosawa among many others. Even as I write this I realise I should be naming the editors, the cameramen, the musicians, even the occasional producers – to say nothing the actors – who combined to produce the product which, whether one calls it art or entertainment, or anything else, is unique in being such a cooperative venture, something designed by many for multitudes.




BIOGRAPHY

Educated at primary school by the Good Samaritan nuns who were much harder to put anything over than the Christian Brothers who taught me at Saint Thomas’s, Clifton Hill, and the Parade College, East Melbourne.

My movie education took place mainly at the Regent Theatre, Fitzroy, and Adelphi, Carlton, both theatres long-gone from golden palaces to plain pumpkins.

Studied music at the University Conservatorium. Worked in early years as a public servant in the daytime and a dance band musician at night.

When offered a job as pianist to Channel 7 in 1960, accepted it with some misgiving but I’m still working on the network 33 years later (though in a different capacity).

First professional job as a movie reviewer was the now-defunct Catholic weekly The Advocate. Began hosting films on TV in the mid--70s, with a television program Two on the Aisle, and have been reviewing new releases for the Herald-Sun? and television releases for TV Week for over a decade.

Ivan Hutchinson Died in 1997.

LUKAS JIRSA





SNOWDROPS AND ACES/ SNEZENKY A MACHRI

Director, Karel Smyczek, 1983


SHORT REVIEW


The famous Czechoslovak comedy about teenagers at ski training is one of the films which convey serious themes and questions in a very friendly, amusing and light form. It is a story about one week of obligatory ski training for high schools. There are several themes which deserve our attention: relationships between pupils and their teachers, relationships among boys and girls, hierarchy in the class etc. The film talks responsibility, leadership, adulthood and sincerity. It begins like a pure comedy and ends like a serious drama without answering the questions which have meanwhile turned up. It is up to viewers to find the appropriate answers themselves.



LONG REVIEW


There is a number of Czech (and Czechoslovakian) films which were honoured by the Ecumenical jury and which collected other prizes too. But there is only one Czech film, as far as I know, which won the prize of the Ecumenical Jury (the OCIC jury) and nothing else. It is the comedy about one high school class at their ski training called Snowdrops and Aces that is still popular in the Czech Republic. It won the prize of the OCIC jury at the festival of films for children and teenagers at Gijón, Spain, in 1983. Czech TV shows it each year at least once in the prime time.

In the Czech Republic it is common to go for a one-week ski training to some Czech mountains when you are at the second year of your high school. The teenagers know each other, they have already spent a lot of time together, the hierarchy is already well established and every member of the class has his or her place in it. There is a specific atmosphere at such stays. Teenagers, who consider themselves to be almost adults, are falling in love with each other, and everybody is trying to have a good time; that means, among other things, to consume more or less considerable amount of alcohol. In the same time, there are the representatives of adults – their teachers and trainers.

The director Karel Smyczek and the screenwriters Radek John and Ivo Pelant portrayed very well this specific event where many problems occur. There is not only the question of authority (represented by the leader of the entire training and his colleagues), but also the question of responsibility, leadership, adulthood and sincerity. The comedy style, which is introduced in the first half of the film, is more and more overshadowed by serious questions and the end of the movie is purely dramatic without any easy answers to the raised questions.
The conflict doesn´t develop only between the group of youngsters and adults but also within the group itself – frank and decent boy Radek faces self-confident and daring Viky. The different types of teenagers as well as adult characters are well portrayed. Beside this, there is a theme of love and friendship which goes hand in hand with the plot.

Snowdrops and Aces is one of the films which convey serious themes and questions in a very friendly, amusing and light form of comedy about teenagers and their problems.


CRITERIA FOR REVIEWING


I do not take the film and art in general as mere instrument for entertainment. The art is more than a filling of our free time. The art is one of the human universalis. There is no human society without art and there is no human society without religion. Actually, these two basic elements of human life are essentially tied together since the beginning of humanity. These two purely human domains shaped our cultures hand in hand for thousands years and it is only in the last few centuries, in the modern period, when these two elements were separated. The German philosopher Georg Scherer talks about the „disintegration of culture“ – i.e. such a state of affairs, in which the culture (society) is no longer centred about one main idea, like the Middle Ages around the Christian God. The separate domains appear: economics, politics, science, religion, art – they are closed, they mostly do not communicate, with each other and when they do, it is a rare and superfluous exchange. In the case of religion and art it is, fortunately, not completely true. There are strong interconnections and there is a real vivid relationship. (I write about the situation in the Western society, being a Roman Catholic myself.)

The art is one of the ways how to interpret our world. It can lead us beyond „the everydayness“ of our lives, „the everydayness“ in which the current western world seems to be rooted far too much. It is the way how to see the world differently (as it is the case of the religion to some extend).
The cinema is a part of the abundant world of vision in which we live for almost 100 years. There are too many films, music videos, images, pictures, photos around us and new occur each and every new day. Therefore, it is very important to know to which images we should pay attention and which images we should try to avoid (for their moral malignity or for their meaninglessness, which at the end becomes the same).

The cinema has a strong potential to refigure the world. It can concentrate on some important aspect of our reality and it can open our eyes. It can reshape our experience. The Italian film theorist Francesco Casetti talks about „ the full filmic experience“. F. Casetti writes: „…the spectator perceives again and anew, and then he or she re-elaborates a consciousness and a competence beyond that of common sense.“ The cinema has a power to make us to see the world (and human being) differently, and I take this to be the most important element of the filmic experience. From a little bit different angle we could say that the cinema is a very effective way how to enable the voices of the voiceless to be heard and the faces of the faceless to be seen. The cinema enables to see poor people all around the world, people who lack freedom, people who live in fear and oppression, people living in the spiritual emptiness and chaos, people without love, people who try to find someone to love, people who starve for human touch and understanding.


We live in the world that is radically changing, the world which will be very different from the world in the 20th century, for better or worse. Our „risk society“ is very complex and it is difficult to find any orientation points. The cinema can be an efficient vehicle to find some of these orientation points or, at least, it can draw our attention in an appropriate way. There are plenty of films which deserve our time, our heart and our intellect.

When I review a film, I try to find and describe the possible way how to look at it and how to perceive it. I try to show how the concrete film deals with our reality, how it reflects our world and what implications may come out of it. It is important to know that every work of art is the base for a vivid and open dialogue: a dialogue between the film and its spectator and also the dialogue between the spectators themselves. Only from this kind of fruitful relationship there can arise the full filmic experience and our lives can be changed, even if this change is very discreet for most of the time.

The reviewer should try to help the spectator to find his own way to interpret the film. He should be the one who facilitates the full filmic experience to become real.

DENISE KRIPPER




BUENOS AIRES VICE VERSE


Argentina, 1996, director Aleyandro Agresti
Mar del Plata, 1996, Commendation.


SHORT REVIEW


La ceguera, literal o metafórica, es fundamental en esta película donde los personajes no pueden, no quieren o se niegan a ver. Ellos reflejan un país al que le taparon los ojos durante más de siete años de dictadura y que ahora, de a poco, comienza a abrir los ojos nuevamente, pero no sin la molestia normal que se siente al ver la luz después de un largo período en la oscuridad. Buenos Aires Viceversa, de Alejandro Agresti, cuenta a través de sus personajes la historia de un país que recuperó su democracia pero que todavía no se libera de las sombras de la dictadura más sangrienta de su historia.



Blindness, literal or metaphoric, is fundamental in this film where the characters cannot, do not want to, or refuse to see. They reflect a country that was blindfolded for over seven years of dictatorship and that now, little by little, starts to open its eyes again, but not without the normal discomfort that one feels when seeing the light after a long period in the dark. Buenos Aires Viceversa, a film by Alejandro Agresti, tells through its characters the history of a country that regained democracy but that cannot quite yet get rid of the shadows of its most bloody dictatorship.



LONG REVIEW

Una pareja de ciegos que decide no 'verse' más. El recepcionista de un telo que escucha en secreto la intimidad de los clientes. Una mujer obsesionada con el presentador del noticiero. Un electricista solitario. Un joven boxeador que acaba de llegar a la gran ciudad. El guardia de seguridad de un Shopping. El hijo malcriado de un matrimonio de plata. Un chico de la calle. Una pareja de ancianos que contrata a una chica para que les traiga imágenes del mundo fuera de la casa de donde nunca salen. Y Daniela. Daniela que es la chica detrás de la cámara que caprichosamente puede representar la realidad como ella la ve o como ellos quieren verla. Todos estos personajes están unidos por el mismo deseo de sobreponerse a las circunstancias, y representan todos los distintos puntos de vista de un país que tan sólo acaba de recuperar su democracia: ceguera, morbosidad, locura, soledad, sobrecogimiento, desinterés, desesperación, negación. Y esperanza.

La dictadura ya no está, pero su fantasma permanece en aquellos que no pueden ver y en aquellos que deciden no hacerlo. La tierna relación que se desarrolla entre Daniela (interpretada por Vera Fogwill) y 'El Bocha', el chico de la calle de 9 años (interpretado por Nazareno Casero), muestra a dos generaciones que no formaron parte de aquellos años violentos que pero sufren las consecuencias que hicieron de este presente uno violento. El repentino e inesperado final une todas las piezas del rompecabezas en el que los personajes se unen por algo más importante: el deseo de encontrar la verdad. Todos los cabos sueltos se atan en el final donde los personajes pueden darle un sentido al pasado a través de sus experiencias en el presente. Finalmente, se han abierto los ojos de todos, incluidos los del espectador.

En su meticuloso trabajo, el director Alejandro Agresti presenta un mosaico de historias e imágenes que retratan realidades muy diferentes (al igual que la cámara de Daniela) pero que con éxito muestran una ciudad que es desordenada, incoherente, contradictoria, patas para arriba...y viceversa.




A blind couple that decides not too 'see' each other anymore. The receptionist of a motel who secretly listens the guest's intimacy. A woman obsessed with the news presenter. A lonely electrician. A young boxer who has just arrived in the big city. A shopping mall security guard. The spoiled son of rich parents. A homeless boy. An old couple who hires a girl to bring them images from the world outside the house they never leave. And Daniela. Daniela who is the girl behind the camera, which can whimsically depict reality like she sees it or like they would like to see it. All of these characters are joined together by the same desire to overcome circumstances, and they represent all the different viewpoints of a country that has only recently regained its democracy: blindness, morbidity, madness, solitude, awe, violence, lack of interest, despair, denial. And hope. The dictatorship is gone, but its ghost lingers in those who cannot see and those who decide not to. The tender relationship that develops between Daniela (played by Vera Fogwill) and 'El Bocha', the homeless 9 year old boy (played by Nazareno Casero), illustrates two generations that did not take part in those violent years but that suffer the consequences that made of the present a violent one. The sudden and unexpected ending seems to put all the pieces of this puzzle together, as the characters are now linked by something more important: the desire to find the truth. All the loose ends are tied at the end in which the characters are finally able to make sense of the past through their present experiences. At last, everyone's eyes have been opened, including the spectators'.

In his very meticulous work, director Alejandro Agresti presents a mosaic of stories and images that portray very different realities (like Daniela's camera) but that successfully depicts a city that is messy, incoherent, contradictory, up side down…and vice versa.


CRITERIA FOR REVIEWING

Una buena película, para mí, es aquella donde hay un correlato entre la historia y la manera en la que está contada. El argumento tiene que dejarse entrever a través del lenguaje cinematográfico. Por otro lado, muchas veces (sino la mayoría) siento que la historia es simplemente una excusa para hablar sobre un tema mayor. Es por esto que a la hora de sentarme a ver una película trato de despojarme de prejuicios y reacciones emocionales inmediatas para darle lugar a la reflexión y ver qué lugar ocupa esa película en la tradición cinematográfica. Es imprescindible separar el "me gustó" de "es una buena película", ya que puede ocurrir que una de mis películas favoritas no sea realmente una buena película y, por supuesto al revés, es decir, que una película muy buena no me haya gustado en absoluto.

Un punto de partida a la hora de comenzar mi análisis es seguir los rastros de aquellas cosas que en principio me "molestaron" de la película. Puede ser un movimiento de cámara extraño que se repite varias veces, silencios incómodos, planos reincidentes, algún color en particular que sobresalga en cada escena y demás. La idea es ver si ese rastro nos conduce a alguna pista, a algún mensaje oculto que el director ha dejado ahí para nosotros. Creo que de eso se trata el cine, de leer un nuevo lenguaje y empezar a comprender las metáforas encerradas en movimientos de cámara y planos, de ver cómo el relato se pone al servicio de la historia y de ver qué se quiso contar, de qué se quiso hablar mediante esa mágica combinación que llamamos cine.




A good film, in my opinion, is that where there is a correspondence between the story and the way in which that it is narrated. The story line needs to come through by means of the cinematographic language. Moreover, many times (if not the majority) I feel that the story is simply an excuse to actually deal with a subject much bigger. This is why when I watch a film I try to strip myself of prejudices and immediate emotional responses to leave some room for reflection and to see what role this film plays in the cinematic tradition. It is essential to differentiate between "I liked it" and "it is a good film", because it can happen that one of my favorite movies is not really a good film and, of course the other way around, that is to say, that I can totally dislike a very good film.
A starting point when it comes to analyzing a film is to follow the traces of those things that at first sight "bothered" me about the film. It could be a strange camera movement that is repeated several times, awkward silences, repeated shots, some color in particular that stands out in every scene and the like. The idea is to see if that trace leads us to a clue, to some secret message the director has left there for us. I think that is what cinema is all about, it is about reading a new language and start to comprehend the metaphors locked in camera movements and shots, it is about seeing how the technical part serves the purpose of the story line, and to discover what wanted to be told, what wanted to be said through that magical combination that we call cinema.




BIOGRAPHY

Formación Académica:

1. Academy Year in Liberal Arts
European College of Liberal Arts (ECLA)
Beca
Berlin, Deustchland (2008-2009)

Traductorado literario, técnico y científico
I.E.S en Lenguas Vivas “J.R. Fernández” (2004-2008)


Experiencia laboral:

Asistente de Producción
Mediometraje "Treibgut / A la deriva"
Hochschule fuer Film und Fernsehen (HFF) Konrad Wolf in Potsdam- Babelsberg

Asistencia lingüística
7mo. Seminario SIGNIS de Productores de TV en la U.C.A (2008)

Interpretación consecutiva
Encuentro Signis-OCLACC de Cine (2008)

Interpretación/Asistencia Personal
Jurado Signis en el 10° BAFICI, Festival Internacional de Cine Independiente de Buenos Aires (2008)

Subtitulado, doblaje y temporizado.
Productora Claxson- Turner (2007-2008)

Subtitulado y traducción
Festival Internacional de Cine sobre los Derechos Humanos DerHumLAC? (2007)

Interpretación consecutiva bilateral telefónica
Teleinterpreters (EUA) a través de ITS (2006-2007)

Interpretación, subtitulado y doblaje, traducción y “Ángel”
5to. Festival Internacional de Cine “Nueva Mirada” para la Infancia y la Juventud (2006)

RICHARD LEONARD AUSTRALIA



THE JAMMED

Australia, 2006.
Directed by Dee Mc Lachlan.

Interfaith award, Brisbane, 2007.


SHORT REVIEW

Inspired by actual events and taken from court transcripts, The Jammed traces the story of three women brought to Australia under false pretexts for sexual exploitation.

The Jammed is a singularly courageous piece of cinema. Even though many people would not want to see the extremely violent world this film portrays, this does not allow us to ignore the sex trade in women and children occurring in our nation. It reveals not only the horror of modern human trafficking and slavery but also peels back the complex moral layers involved for everyone, including governments.

This uncompromising and confronting film illuminates a dark, tragic side of Australian society.


LONG REVIEW

In 2006/2007 Dee Mc Lachlan’s The Jammed won two awards. At the Brisbane International Film Festival it won the SIGNIS Interfaith Award and the next year was named the Film of the Year by the Australian Catholic Film Office.

Inspired by actual events and taken from court transcripts, The Jammed traces the story of three women brought to Australia under false pretexts for sexual exploitation. Into this dark world enters an unlikely heroine, Ashley Hudson (Veronica Sywak). She is an insurance salesperson who hates her job. Unwillingly Ashley does a favour for a friend by collecting someone from the international airport. There she meets Sunee (Amanda Ma), a middle aged lady who has come from China to search for her daughter, Rubi (Sun Park).

Sunee has little English, and does not know where to begin to start looking for her child. Ashley resentfully is drawn into the search for Rubi, who she discovers has become a victim of a sex trafficking network organised by a Melbourne gang. Ashley discovers that Sunee is working as a prostitute, one of many, along with fellow victims Vanya (Saskia Burmesiter) and Crystal (Emma Lung).

This world overtakes both Ashley, Sunee and Rubi. They find that this evil world is playing with big money and bigger legal stakes. It trades off the women wanting to be free on one hand, but, on the other, not wanting to be apprehended by the Immigration Department and deported.

The Jammed is a singularly courageous piece of cinema. Even though many people would not want to see the extremely violent world this film portrays, this does not allow us to ignore the sex trade in women and children occurring in our nation. It reveals not only the horror of modern human trafficking and slavery but also peels back the complex moral layers involved for everyone, including governments.

This uncompromising and confronting film illuminates a dark, tragic side of Australian society (one replicated in many countries across the world), and thus makes a significant contribution to increasing people’s awareness of an under-recognised but important issue of human rights.

It exposes questions about the real value we place on human life, and challenges our sense of social justice towards the marginalised and exploited.

It would be hard to think of a social issue upon which the whole church is presently speaking with such clarity. Pope Benedict XVI’s statement on human trafficking for sex on 28th October 2005, his message to mark World Day of Migrants and Refugees, and the Vatican’s Pontifical Council for Migrants and Itinerants have strenuously calls for all Catholics, Christians and people of good will to do everything they can to counter the causes and the evil results of human trafficking. In Australia, Catholic Religious Australia has been at the vanguard of lobbying, education and working with victims in regard to the international trafficking of women and children.

With a very small budget, a strong cast and powerful narrative, this is a film that viewers will think about for days afterwards. The Jammed confronts us with how our faith impels us to act justly.


CRITERIA FOR FILM REVIEWING

I have always adapted the OCIC’s six points for film juries as a good guide for my work as a Catholic film reviewer.
1. Is the film is of a high artistic quality?
2. Does it dramatise positive human values?
3. How can the values dramatised in the film be seen in the light of the message of the Gospel?
4. Does the film challenge its audience to respond to a faith that does justice?
5. Can it be used with groups to understand issues through story and symbols?
6. In what way does this film reflect its culture, helping its audience to respect the language and the images of that culture?
7. Will the film have a universal impact or is it confined to its national or local context?

I accept in my reviewing that for many western and secualrised Christians the cinema is now the modern market place where, often, minds, hearts and values are won and lost. The best films are simple and direct communications telling the most human of tales, often with a profound message. Whether we like it or not, the cinema is the place where an increasing number of people encounter a world of otherness, ethical systems, personal and social mythologies which transcend the everyday. Within the cinema we can contemplate our place in a larger frame of reference where physical laws count for less and a relationship with a metaphysical and, often, a meta-ethical world, is taken seriously. Either in the short or long term this leads us to a new consciousness of our surroundings, ideologies and moral imperatives.

Sadly, some Christians believe that unless a movie is about Jesus the Prophets or Saints, if it does not speaks of religious matters, or explicitly wear its spirituality on its sleeve, then it is can not be counted in the cinematic Christian canon. Some believers go as far as to say, “Only sex and violence sells at the cinema” or “There is nothing good at the movies anymore”. These uninformed and unfortunate comments do little for Christian inculturation, betraying the fact that the person making them is unable to read anything into or draw something out of a film, that might be consonant with the Christian message even though it may never mention the name of Jesus, the Bible or the Church.

Reading a film in the light of Christian faith starts with a disposition to want to do so. It is having the eyes to see, the ears to hear and the heart to receive what is good and enjoyable in the media culture of our age.

St Paul tell us that the greatest of the virtues are faith, hope and love, the Theological Virtues, the hallmarks by which the world should be able to judge a Christian. St Thomas Aquinas added to these virtues justice, fidelity, self-esteem, and prudence. These four have been termed the Cardinal Virtues. And added to this list are applications of them - mercy and hospitality, the so-called Christian values. St Thomas and many other theologians argue that wherever these virtues and values are present then named or not, Christ is present. Therefore we do not have to be against everything.

I also do not believe we have is not to be immediately frightened of the darker world the cinema often explores. Though we all like it to be otherwise, we hold to faith in a world which is broken and sinful. Helpfully the Christian tradition has summed up some of the worst excesses of destructive behaviour as the Seven Deadly Sins: pride, greed, envy, anger, lust, gluttony and sloth. For Christians the problem is not that a film explores the Seven Deadly Sins, or the countless other names we can give to our worst behaviour. The question we ask is whether they are made to look glamorous and seen to be normal. Films that tell us that dark behaviour is glamorous or normal must be challenged.

One of the more unfortunate things that has happened in recent times is that many Christians have been seduced into believing that we should no longer judge one another. I assume that when we say “don’t judge”, what we are trying to say is “don’t condemn.” But there is world of difference between these two ideas.

Good film reviewing from a Catholic point of view cultivates the gift of discernment where we can work out the wheat from the chaff, exercising compassionate judgment and critical consumption. Then I think there is less likelihood of the filmgoer being seduced by attitudes, responses and appetites that are not life-giving and life-sustaining.



BIOGRAPHY

Rev Dr Richard Leonard SJ directs the Australian Catholic Office for Film & Broadcasting. He is a visiting professor of communications at the Pontifical Gregorian University, Rome and Jesuit Theological College, Melbourne. He is the author of: The Mystical Gaze of the Cinema: the Films of Peter Weir (Melbourne University Press); Movies That Matter: Reading Film Through the Lens of Faith (Loyola Press, Chicago) and Preaching to the Converted (Paulist Press). He has also written a personal reflection on suffering and God based on his family experiences, Where the Hell is God?

PETER MALONE





RABBIT PROOF FENCE

Australia, 2001, director Phillip Noyce.
SIGNIS Australia award 2001.



SHORT REVIEW


A fine Australian film about aboriginal people in the 1930s, especially the stolen generation of children abducted by government orders to be trained as servants and farmers. Three little girls escape and walk home along the rabbit proof fence. The desert and mountains, beautifully photographed, alienate the whites but are 'country' to the girls. Phillip Noyce uses his craft expertise, from home and Hollywood, to make the tale dramatic, emotional and challenging especially in the dialogue from Kenneth Branagh's aboriginal protector, Mr Neville, a man of eugenic, anti-black policies. Cinema storytelling can contribute to public opinion – here for saying sorry to aboriginal peoples.


LONG REVIEW

Appalling.

Not the film, of course, but the stories of Australia's stolen generation and the arrogant colonial presuppositions that lay behind them. Australians would shudder at the final statements in the film from the Western Australian protector of all aborigines from 1915 to 1940, Mr A.O. Neville.

Rabbit Proof Fence is a landmark film for Australian public opinion. It is popular cinema that tells a strong message story and was released in 2002 when most Australian groups had acknowledged that the treatment of aboriginal people and, especially, those of the stolen generation deserved an apology. Churches had spoken up. Many organisations around the country had said that they were sorry. However, 'Sorry' was not a word that the Prime Minister, John Howard, and his government were willing to utter. Audiences seeing Rabbit Proof Fence and moved by the story of three little girls, aged from 8 to 14, abducted by the police, confined to a settlement where they were to be trained as servants, escaping and making their way home along the fence for hundreds of miles, would have felt and known that an apology had to be forthcoming.

This is a beautifully crafted film. Taking advantage of the open spaces of Western Australia, the desert and the mountains, expert cinematographer, Christopher Doyle, shows us the beauty of the terrain from an aboriginal perspective, where white travellers and settlers would find it alien, but the aborigines saw it as their country, and home.

Phillip Noyce made the short feature, Backroads, a story of 1970s aborigines, hardships and the protest against discrimination. After making his name in Australia in film and television (Newsfront, The Cowra Breakout, The Dismissal), Noyce spent ten years in Hollywood, relishing the opportunity to make popular films (Patriot Games, The Bone Collector), then felt the need to come home to film.

The screenplay is based on a book by the daughter of Molly Craig, the unswerving leader of the girls.

Three aboriginal girls bring the trek to life, its pain and uncertainty along with their indomitable spirit. It is very emotional to see two of them as elderly women seventy years later. Kenneth Branagh portrays Mr Neville as a fatally flawed gentleman with a righteous eugenics program to eliminate mixed blood children.

Much to marvel at, much to admire, much to reflect on, much to challenge.


CRITERIA FOR REVIEWING

In 1975, I received an angry letter criticising me for recommending a film with foul language. I quickly glanced down the page to check the title of the offending film: The Sting. Critique is in the eye and ear, the mind and heart of the beholder.

I have had the luxury of writing reviews most films release commercially for almost 50 years. The readership of the reviews in Annals (a family magazine published by the Catholic religious order to which I belong) has been teenagers at school, teachers and parents. A video column in the Melbourne Advocate and a weekly review in The Catholic Leader reached a specifically Catholic readership. But it does not mean that I write “Catholic” reviews. Opportunities to write in the Melbourne sun and magazines like Cinema Papers have shown me that the same material can be of value to all readers.

I like the phrase, “mediating film culture”. I think this is what reviewers do. Film buffs do it by their moviegoing and enthusiasm. Critics can do it by analytical articles and discussion. But, mediating is the essence of film reviewing. It is communication between reviewer and readership.

Reviewers mediate film culture through their experience, taste, sensitivity and their communication style. This means that reviewers must understand and respect their readership, alert to the variety of experiences, tastes, sensitivities and styles. Years ago, being stuck in a cinema, unmoved by bare-knuckle-fighting Clint Eastwood and his orangutan, Clive, in Every Which Way but Loose, while all around the audience guffawed and cheered, helped me realise that I was not a member of Extroverts Anonymous, that my taste was minority in this regard and that my taste had no rights over the other. The reviewer is a mediator not a paragon of taste.

But reviewers should have a passion for cinema otherwise their work is merely a journalistic chore the aids no one. Some reviewers receive assignments to go to the movies and bring little experience or interest. They often bring the desire to make an impression and the surest way to do this is to mock. But, next week, they might be filling in on the restaurant round!

If a passionate reviewer is to mediate, then the film culture should pervade his/her personality: films from each diverse decade of the movie century, films from many nations, films in a variety of genres. Reviewers don’t have to like everything, but should experience as wide a range of film culture as possible.

In practice, what does this mean? Reviewers should be alert to the differences of taste and sensitivity in their readership and indicate what might interest or what might repel. My own preference is to look at the overall film – after all, it’s not over until the final credits – and then highlight the qualities. This gives a context for the negatives. By the way, reviewers need to beware of the temptation to write merely for other reviewers.

I rely on trying to appreciate the text and texture of the film: the techniques of the technology, the writing, the artistry – not reading into the film my own agenda.

My personal interest in is in the themes dramatised. My religious background means that I look for values and meanings. I subscribe to E. M. Forster’s advice at the beginning of Howard’s End: “Only Connect”. Often, explicitly religious films have less impact than so many films which are implicitly religious. I use the word “religious” in its broadest meaning, not in any church or denominational sense. I think we respond to the drama of basic human drives and the reviewer can alert an audience to these explorations of values.

So, reviews, I think, should be positive but not naive or bland, insightful but not imperious, interesting and entertaining but not over-didactic or confusing. I rather like the words “critically appreciative”.





BIOGRAPHY

Peter Malone is an Australian Missionary of the Sacred Heart. He has taught theology and Old Testament studies at the Yarra Theological Union and directed a Diploma of Social Communications at the Australian National Pastoral Institute. He has reviewed films since 1968 and written a number of books and articles on cinema and spirituality (Lights Camera Faith, Movie Christs and Antichrists, Onscreen Jesus). After being president of OCIC Pacific in the 1990s, he became president of OCIC world in 1998 and the first president of SIGNIS, The World Catholic Association for Communication (2001-2005). He is an Associate of the Catholic Office for Film and Broadcasting.

JIM McDONNELL







YASMIN

UK, 2005, d. Kenny Glenaan.
Locarno, 2006, Ecumenical Prize.


YASMIN: SHORT REVIEW

Winner of the Ecumenical Award in Locarno, 2004, and winner of the Templeton award for best European film, Yasmin is a picture of inter-religious and racial tensions in the north of England.

Despite the serious themes the film is also full humour ,wit, and irony.

The story is a powerful and serious exploration of what it means to be a person caught between two cultures. Set against a background of poverty, high unemployment and racial tensions, Yasmin's story deals with universal themes: the search for identity and belonging; the search for values and meaning and the battle between social conformity and personal integrity.


YASMIN: LONG REVIEW

Winner of the Ecumenical Award in Locarno, 2004, and winner of the Templeton award for best European film, Yasmin is a picture of inter-religious and racial tensions in the north of England.

Yasmin, played by Archie Panjabi, lives in two worlds. Leaving home in traditional Pakistani dress she drives into the countryside where she changes into western clothes for her daily job as a social worker. In the evening she transforms herself again into the dutiful Muslim daughter to please her widowed devout and traditional father. Yasmin finds traditional Pakistani attitudes constricting and demeaning to her as a young British woman. She is angry and often frustrated.

Even though she rebels against traditional Pakistani culture, Yasmin agrees to go through a marriage, and later divorce, with a goat herder cousin from a Pakistani village to please her father and so that he can get British residency.

But life suddenly changes for Yasmin after 9/11 when she finds herself ostracised at work and her community treated as potential terrorists. She undergoes a crisis of identity as people regard her with suspicion and hostility. Then her husband is arrested and in spite of her disdain for him and his backward ways, Yasmin’s sense of justice propels her to fight for his release from a holding centre. Her actions force her to painfully re-evaluate her faith, her culture, and her relationships.

Despite the serious themes the film is also full humour ,wit, and irony.
The story is a powerful and serious, but also often humorous, exploration of what it means to be a person caught between two cultures. Set in a Northern mill-town, and against a background of poverty, high unemployment and racial tensions, Yasmin's story deals with universal themes: the search for identity and belonging; the search for values and meaning and the battle between social conformity and personal integrity.

The film won Ecumenical awards because it explores these universal themes in terms of a personal compelling local story which is narrated through a striking visual language. Yasmin touches us at an emotional level and allows us to glimpse tensions and feelings can cannot be expressed verbally. In so doing, the film, like all good films, draws us into the world of the protagonists and allows us to feel with them and to experience something of their struggles and hopes. The director and actors make us care about the characters and in so doing offer a glimpse into a world that the terrorist events of 2005 and 2007 make it imperative that we understand better.


CRITERIA FOR REVIEWING

The most important element in any review is the intended readership or audience. So the length, style, content and approach of a review is bound to change with the medium in which it appears, the place and time of its publication, and a sense of who the audience is, and what they might be expected to be interested in. All these considerations are there in the background, shaping the style, language and content of the review, and suggesting what elements to highlight or downplay.

A review is not a critical essay but, of course, has critical elements. However, in my mind, a review has one overriding function: to give the prospective viewer an idea of what the film is about and to highlight some features that will give a “flavour” of the film.

Of course, flavour is a matter of taste and taste can be highly subjective — but I try to put aside my own personal prejudices (more or less successfully). Any film deserves to be approached in the first instance with as much open-mindedness as I can summon. As I watch I am looking for and seeking to draw attention to what seems most memorable or revealing; paying attention to a variety of elements: acting, screenplay, plot, cinematography, the use of sound and music. Genre is important too. If a film sets out to be a thriller there is no point in approaching the review with the same expectations as if it were a romantic comedy or a satire. Depth of characterization is not a prerequisite for a good thriller, but artistic depth might raise a good thriller to a great one. The question I ask myself is does it work, more or less, as a thriller or drama or rom-com etc? The prospective viewer is going to spend money to be entertained, stimulated, frightened or intrigued and deserves to have some idea of whether or not the film can deliver on any of these expectations. What can I say that might help him or her to make a judgement as to whether to spend two hours in the dark immersed in a director’s creative world.

It might sound rather prosaic, but my first expectation of a film is that be well made – it is after all, a work of craft, of technical and artistic expertise as well as artistic imagination. This expertise is expressed in numerous ways but above all in the editing. I may not personally warm to a film but I can recognize the film that is well structured, tightly edited, trying to be creative and imaginative, with a sense of having been “directed”. A film can “fail” in it’s intention, of course, but interesting failures are more engaging than cliché ridden products that give the impression of having thrown together with little thought.

I hope always for originality, to be surprised and touched, but well-made solidity has its place too. There is a moral or ethical dimension too; sometimes not so easy to discern, especially if a film plumbs the dark places of human psyche. But a film, however trivial its content or plot, should always have a moral core, a respect for human dignity. A film that merely exploits or titillates the viewer or degrades its actors is not a film that is worth watching. And sometimes that has to be said clearly and distinctly.

As I write this, I seems to be making my task as a reviewer ever harder, though in practice it is not so difficult and usually enjoyable. Films have given me hours of pleasure, bringing me into many stimulating imaginative worlds, sometimes of great depth and subtlety. I hope that my review will be a helpful guide, even if a subjective one, to films that can open the doors of the mind and heart to stories of “innocence and experience”, as William Blake might have said. The review succeeds most when it stimulates someone to take the risk to go, see and judge for themselves.



BIOGRAPHY

Dr Jim Mc Donnell is the Director of Development for SIGNIS as well as running his own PR consultancy, Mc Donnell Communications. He has been involved in Catholic communications for nearly 40 years and has been a member of both the OCIC and SIGNIS Boards at regional and world level. He has been a member of film, radio, TV, and video juries and has written extensively about all aspects of the media. This email address is being protected from spambots. You need JavaScript enabled to view it.

ARISTIDES O’FARRILL





(Director, Humberto Padron)

VIDEO DE FAMILIA/ FAMILY’S VIDEO


Cuba, 2001, Director, Humberto Padrón.
Mención OCIC- SIGNIS en el vigésimo primer Festival del Nuevo Cine Latinoamericano de La Habana.




SHORT REVIEW

Video de Familia, constituye un documento audiovisual inestimable para conocer los vaivenes que han sacudido a la familia cubana en estos cincuenta años de Revolución. Con un presupuesto estético mínimo. Humberto Padrón su realizador nos exhibe a través de la catarsis que provoca la grabación de un video en una familia tradicional cubana, todos los desgarros que ha sufrido Cuba, culpa de la intolerancia y la cerrazón ideológica que han llevado a la familia nacional y por ende a la nación a una crispación sin precedentes. Para salir de este marasmo el filme propone la reconciliación familiar que ha de ser simiente de una mayor, la postergada entre nacionales.


LONG REVIEW


El año 2001, fue testigo de un acontecimiento audiovisual para los cubanos, un mediometraje minimalista de 45 minutos de duración captaba la atención de los cinéfilos del país, Video de familia, firmado por el entonces desconocido realizador Humberto Padrón. El filme no estaba producido por el ICAIC, organismo capitalizador de todas las producciones nacionales de importancia hasta ese momento, sino que su productora respondía al estrafalario e irónico nombre de Producciones HP (1).

El filme aborda una temática poco usual en el audiovisual nacional de los últimos años el desgarro que ha sufrido la familia cubana productos de las fricciones ideológicas, que a su vez ha provocado exilios y tensiones a veces irreversibles. Video de familia se adentra en esta espinosa temática con originalidad y no menos arrojo. Toda la trama gira alrededor de un video familiar (2) que una familia cubana decide enviar a uno de sus miembros, emigrad en EE.UU. Todos los familiares: padre, madre, hermana, hermano y abuela se aprestan para la filmación, pero la revelación de un secreto por parte de uno de ellos, justo antes de que comience la misma, hace que estallen las tensiones que está familia tenia guardada por mucho tiempo y que el patriarca (Enrique Molina), impedía que así fuera. De inmediato queda al descubierto, la homofobía, el racismo, el machismo y la intolerancia hacia el que piensa diferente. Entonces desde éste microcosmos familiar, el director inteligentemente nos muestra todas las tensiones y contradicciones que subyacen en nuestro macrocosmos nacional, y que muy tímidamente empiezan a ser debatidos; pues de eso se trata de debate algo que ha faltado tanto en nuestras familias, como en nuestra nación. Y que Padrón pone sobre el tapate.

Así el referido secreto deviene en catarsis familiar y la rica y por momentos álgida controversia que se establece entre los miembros de la familia, lejos de terminar con la destrucción del núcleo familiar como por momentos parece, desemboca en su solides, con lo que nos sugiere que la discusión, el punto de vista diferente, que tanto ha faltado en nuestra nación, lejos de desunirnos, nos enriquece. No es casual que la propiciadora de la conciliación sea una mujer ( Veronica Lynn), con lo que se alude lo mismo a la nación en sí mismo, como a la importancia de una mayor inclusión de la mujer.

Video de familia abrió una brecha positiva dentro de la historia del audiovisual cubano, después de éste filme, nunca las cosas fueron igual, comenzaron a florecer en el país nuevos realizadores gracias a la nueva tecnología digital, bisoño que al igual que Padrón se sumergieron en zonas preteridas de nuestra realidad.

Pero no es sólo éste el merito de Padrón, Video de familia abrió una puerta hacia la postergada reconciliación nacional, puerta por la que todavía muchos se resisten a pasar. La invitación sigue en pie, la nación no puede seguir esperando, pues sin discusión que lleve a la conciliación no hay nación sana posible, como nos indica Padrón.

(1). El titulo de la productora alude de manera polisemica lo mismo a las iniciales del nombre y el primer apellido del realizador que a una chapa automovilística que el imaginario popular tomó para bautizar irónicamente los a dirigentes que abusaban de su poder.
(2). Con la expansión del video cassete, muchos cubanos emigrados debido a la imposibilidad de visitar la Isla con regularidad e incluso cartearse sistemáticamente utilizaban este medio para mantener la comunicación con los familiares. De hecho Video de familia está filmado ex profesamente como si se tratara de la realización de un camarógrafo amateur.



CRITERIA FOR REVIEWING

Cuando me involucro en el análisis de un filme, lo primero que suele interesarme es que visión ofrece sobre el contexto que retrata, de qué manera lo alude o se centra en el, busco los detalles o las sutilezas que pueda tener al respecto, para luego compartirlas con el eventual lector, lo mismo si el filme se centra en una temática especifica o personaje. Lo segundo es los posibles valores o contravalores humanos y cristianos que pueda tener la obra, es decir si ilumina u oscurece la realidad retratada. Por último me centro en sus posibles aciertos o desaciertos estéticos. Si el filme pertenece a alguna corriente cinematográfica o al llamado cine de género, trato de ver que aporta o no al respecto.


BIOGRAPHY

Arístides O´Farrill?. Miembro de SIGNIS- CUBA, antigua OCIC, desde el año 1992.
Coordinador editorial de la Revista ECOS de SIGNIS- CUBA. Miembro de la Asociación Cubana de la Prensa Cinematográfica. Ha participado como jurado de SIGNIS – Cuba en los más importantes eventos cinematográficos del país, y en cuatro ocasiones en el Festival de la Habana. Colaborador ocasional de las revistas arquidiocesanas Palabra Nueva y Espacio Laical.

JOACHIM OPAHLE GERMANY



„livesafelyineurope“

Dokumentarfilm, 52 Minuten, Österreich 2007,
Regie: Emanuel Danesch


SHORT REVIEW

„livesafelyineurope“ ist ein nachdenklicher Film über ein europäisches Zukunftsthema erster Ordnung: Wie werden wir wohnen und leben angesichts zunehmender Armutsmigration in Europa und weltweit. Der Film zitiert kunstvoll und ironisch gebrochen aus den euphorischen Prospekten der Erbauer von „gated communities“, die überall in Europa mit dem Versprechen von Exklusivität und Sicherheit werben. Mauern und Überwachungskameras sind ihre Methoden, unliebsame Mitmenschen auf Distanz zu halten. Die Bewohner dieser „Inseln der Seligen“ preisen die Idylle ihrer Wohnwelten und können doch nur mühsam dahinter die Angst vor dem Fremden und den Rückzug aus gesellschaftlicher Verantwortung verbergen. Der Film desillusioniert erbarmungslos den Fehlglauben, es könne ein richtiges Leben im Falschen geben.


LONG REVIEW 

„livesafelyineurope“

Dokumentarfilm, 52 Minuten, Österreich 2007, Regie: Emanuel Danesch

Überall in Europa werben Investoren für sogenannte „gated communities“, abgeschlossene Wohnsiedlungen außerhalb der Städte, die einer zahlungskräftigen Kundschaft Exklusivität und vor allem Sicherheit versprechen. Ihr Mittel sind Mauern und Überwachungskameras. Doch das Leben darin ist ambivalent, die Idylle trügerisch. Denn für die vermeintlich Sicherheit zahlen die Bewohner einen hohen Preis: Gleichförmigkeit, Isolation, Absonderung vom „wahren Leben“ in der Stadt, in dem sich das Miteinander unterschiedlicher Gruppen und Interessen täglich neu bewähren muss.

Der Dokumentarfilm zitiert aus den Werbeprospekten der Investoren und kombiniert damit Bilder aus gated communities in Ceuta, der spanischen Exklave in Afrika, Deutschland und anderen europäischen Ländern. Ein weiteres Stilmittel sind Bilder aus der virtuellen Welt von „Second Life“, wo mit Hilfe von unsichtbaren Detektoren die Zugehörigkeit zur jeweiligen Community bestimmt wird. Dagegen montiert der Film Bilder aus Überwachungskameras an den europäischen Außengrenzen, die fast ebenso virtuell wirken, die aber höchst realistisch dokumentieren, wie die „Festung Europa“ von Armutsmigranten gestürmt wird.. Dabei wird deutlich: Die Versuchung, sich in Ghettos abzugrenzen von den Herausforderungen des wirklichen Lebens ist groß; die Illusion von einem Leben im Paradies ist ungebrochen aktuell. Rührend naiv und unbewusst komisch schwärmen die Bewohner von ihrem neuen Leben in den eintönigen und architektonisch zumeist banalen Wohnparks. Sie dokumentieren damit jedoch zugleich ihren Rückzug aus gesellschaftlicher Verantwortung und bestätigen darin das Wort des Philosophen Theodor Adorno, wonach es „kein richtiges Leben im Falschen“ geben kann.

Das wahre Leben hält andere Utopien bereit: Wie müsste das Zusammenwohnen von friedlichen und miteinander solidarischen Menschen beschaffen sein? Wie kann man der prekären Situation an den Außengrenzen Europas mit der wachsenden Zahl von Armutsflüchtlingen menschenwürdig begegnen? Was fasziniert und erschreckt zugleich an der quirligen und chaotischen städtischen Lebensform, in der Menschen aller Generationen das „Soziale“ stets aufs Neue herausfinden müssen. Mit der Beantwortung solcher Fragen hält der Film sich zurück. Aber er lässt keinen Zweifel daran, dass Abgrenzung, Isolation und die Errichtung von Mauern keine gangbaren Wege in die Zukunft sein können.

Der Film „livesafelyineurope“ wurde bei der DIAGONALE 2008 in Graz, dem Festival des österreichischen Films, uraufgeführt und mit dem kirchlichen Preis der Diözese Graz ausgezeichnet. Die Jury bildeten Natalie Resch, Joachim Schauer und Joachim Opahle, Vizepräsident von SIGNIS Europa. Der Regisseur des Films, Emanuel Danesch, wurde 1976 in Innsbruck geboren und lebt in Wien. Er studierte an der Universität für angewandte Kunst und an der Akademie der bildenden Künste in Wien. Weitere Information: www.danesch.at


CRITERIA FOR REVIEWING

Ob ein Film mein Interesse weckt, entscheidet sich an Titel und Werbeplakat. Begriffe und Fotos sind die ersten Erzieher, wenn es darum geht, das bewegte Bild und seine Botschaft zu erschließen. Hat der Film dann begonnen, frage ich mich, ob er mit einer Botschaft aufwarten will und ob mir diese Botschaft möglicherweise vertraut ist. Welches ist das erkenntnisleitende Interesse des Autors/Regisseurs? Welche Stilmittel werden eingesetzt? Motive, Methoden, Audiodesign usw. Wie kreativ wirbt der Autor um Interesse und Symphatie für sein Thema? Wie nachhaltig und wesentlich sein Fragestellung und Umsetzung? Setzt der Film Emotionen und Imaginationen frei, wie man der Substanz des Menschlichen auf die Spur kommen und wie Leben gelingen kann?



BIOGRAPHY

Geboren 30.07.1956, verheiratet, drei Kinder, hat in Freiburg/Brg., Wien, Tübingen und Bamberg Katholische Theologie, Philosophie und Kommunikationswissenschaft studiert (Dipl.Theol.).

Arbeitete als Redakteur beim Öffentl.-Rechtl. Rundfunk und in der Öffentlichkeitsarbeit des Erzbistums Bamberg. Seit 1993 im Erzbistum Berlin tätig als Leiter der kirchlichen Hörfunk- und Fernseharbeit.

Vorsitzender der Arbeitsgemeinschaft der Kirchlichen Rundfunkbeauftragten deutscher Bistümer beim Öffentl.-Rechtl. Rundfunk. Vertreter der Deutschen Bischofskonferenz bei SIGNIS.

Adresse: Katholische Rundfunkarbeit im Erzbistum Berlin
Niederwallstr. 8-9
10117 Berlin
Tel: +49 (0)30 401 57 60
This email address is being protected from spambots. You need JavaScript enabled to view it.

LUIS GARCIA ORSO EL VIOLIN




EL VIOLÍN .
(Francisco Vargas, México, 2006)

SHORT REVIEW

El violín (Francisco Vargas, México, 2006) sigue las andanzas de un viejo campesino y músico, don Plutarco Hidalgo, junto con su hijo Genaro y su nieto adolescente Lucio, que van tratando de librar el acecho de un destacamento de soldados que avanzan por las aldeas de la sierra en busca de guerrilleros, y que han destruido y quemado sus casas. Los pobladores han tratado de organizarse para defenderse y resistir; Don Plutarco lo hará con el recurso de su violín y de su música.

La narración cinematográfica de El violín se encarna tan honestamente en la realidad de los pueblos latinoamericanos que siempre la sentimos cercana y vivamente dolorosa, por más que nunca se diga en qué lugar y en qué tiempo está situada. El violín es una película íntegra, comprometida, sin falsas complacencias. En ella, la esperanza que encarnan los desposeídos y la capacidad de trascender y perseverar que alienta la música, son el regalo de esta historia tan universal. La película ha acumulado unos treinta premios, desde que el año 2005 fue apoyada con el Premio SIGNIS para su postproducción.

LONG REVIEW

El violin sigue las andanzas de un viejo campesino y músico, don Plutarco Hidalgo, junto con su hijo Genaro y su nieto adolescente Lucio, que van tratando de librar el acecho de un destacamento de soldados que avanzan por las aldeas de la sierra en busca de guerrilleros, y que han destruido y quemado sus casas. Los pobladores han tratado de organizarse aun militarmente para defenderse y resistir, y los tres familiares intentan hacer llegar más municiones. Don Plutarco lo hará con el recurso de su violín y de su música.

El primer largometraje del joven mexicano Francisco Vargas impacta por la precisión y sobriedad de su narración, la pureza y belleza de su fotografía en blanco y negro, la sinceridad y veracidad con que todos los actores –profesionales y no- encarnan personajes del pueblo, y el compromiso entrañable con la realidad de los pobres que transparenta la historia cinematográfica. Una mención especial merece la actuación de don Ángel Tavira, músico de la sierra de Guerrero, quien siendo joven perdió la mano derecha en la explosión de un cohete y aun así se convirtió en un virtuoso y maestro del violín, y que no sólo representa al personaje protagónico en la película, sino que lo vive con total sinceridad, entrega y veracidad, como quien sabe en carne propia de qué se trata.

La narración recupera el origen de la creación, cuando la tierra fue dada a los hombres para vivir; luego sobrevino el despojo ambicioso e injusto que perpetran unos cuantos. Sobre ellos se alza la dignidad y la lucha de los “hombres verdaderos” para que la tierra vuelva a ser lo que era en el principio. La figura del octogenario Plutarco, todo él digno, entero, perseverante, y la música de su violín, serán entonces la representación de este compromiso, de esta lucha, de esta esperanza: cuando la música acompaña y alegra a las mujeres y los niños que huyen de la represión, cuando el violín seduce y casi doblega la fuerza opresora del capitán, cuando el nieto ha de seguir tocando y no rendirse, hasta que lleguen los tiempos de la vida y de la luz para el pueblo.

La narración cinematográfica de El violín se encarna tan honestamente en la realidad de nuestros pueblos latinoamericanos que siempre la sentimos tan cercana, tan viva, tan dolorosa, por más que nunca se diga en qué lugar y en qué tiempo está situada. El violín es una película íntegra, comprometida, sin falsas complacencias. En ella, la esperanza que encarnan los desposeídos y la capacidad de trascender y perseverar que alienta la música, son el regalo de esta historia tan nuestra y tan universal. La película ha acumulado unos treinta premios, desde que el año 2005 fue apoyada con el Premio SIGNIS y el de Casa de América para su postproducción, y luego escogida en 2006 para una sección del Festival de Cannes.


CÓMO VER Y COMENTAR UNA PELÍCULA/CRITERIA FOR FILM REVIEWING

Como espectadores descubrimos maravillados que en la pantalla de un cine se cuentan historias tan parecidas a las nuestras que nos hacen emocionarnos e identificarnos, reír y llorar, pensar y soñar. Muchas películas son para cada espectador espejo de la vida, diálogo interior, motivación para animarnos y luchar por algo valioso. El cine es capaz de provocar una experiencia espiritual hecha de historias vividas y compartidas, de significados de la vida, de sentimientos y cuestionamientos, de movimientos interiores, que llevan a un diálogo vivo del espectador con la película, consigo mismo y con otros espectadores.
Para hacer este diálogo podemos fijarnos en seis recursos: el inicio de la película, el final, una escena o un símbolo que a uno le impresionó, el título del filme, y un personaje.


El inicio

Las primeras imágenes de una película pueden contener toda la película: la historia, la presentación de personajes, la trama, el nudo, el conflicto, las claves de interpretación… Perderse los primeros minutos es, a veces, perderse la película; captar lo que ese inicio nos da es gustar, comprender, adentrarnos, en toda la historia que se nos cuenta. Si en sus primeros diez minutos una película no es capaz de agarrarnos, interesarnos, implicarnos, emocionarnos, muy difícilmente lo va a lograr el resto de la cinta. Para la comprensión de una película, cada uno recogerá lo que más le llama la atención de su arranque: una imagen, una frase, un sonido, un detalle, un gesto, etc. Al final, todo cobrará sentido.

Una vieja camioneta corre por una carretera vacía, en medio de una amplia y despoblada llanura del noroeste americano. Es la misma imagen en la primera y en la penúltima secuencia de la película Brokeback Mountain (Secreto en la montaña, Ang Lee, EU, 2005), sólo que con veinte años de distancia; pero la imagen tiene por igual la fuerza y la tristeza de un alma sola que avanza en medio de un paisaje desolado.

En el largo, pausado y hermoso inicio de Luz silenciosa (Stellet Licht, Carlos Reygadas, México, 2007), la oscuridad de un paisaje en los campos menonitas de Chihuahua va siendo iluminada lentamente por la luz del amanecer, hasta el punto de no dejar más negrura sino el esplendor de una mañana de sol brillante. Al final de la película, un día después, el amanecer nos evocará a Aquel que, como luz silenciosa, “hace salir el sol sobre buenos y malos, y manda la lluvia sobre justos e injustos”


El final

La evolución de la historia que se nos cuenta ha de llegar a un nudo y un desenlace. El tiempo que se lleve llegar a ese final varía, pero quizás rondará en unos quince o veinte minutos; los últimos cinco serán decisivos. Un buen director será el que sepa cómo llegar ahí sin que perdamos el interés, la emoción, la comprensión de la historia, sino todo lo contrario. Una conducción equivocada de la película hará que ésta se desinfle, se confunda, se pierda, o que el final resulte artificial, manipulado, inverosímil, irreal…Un buen final deja el sabor de la sorpresa, la admiración, la emoción; nos deja el placer de que se nos hizo llegar hasta el final de una historia en la que estábamos embarcados junto con los protagonistas y no se nos abandonó en el camino. Podremos gustar y comprender más una película recordando la última imagen, palabra, gesto, canción, melodía…

Para los que saben ver una película y se quedan hasta los créditos finales, Diarios de Motocicleta (Walter Salles, Brasil-EU, 2004) trae un regalo al final: las fotos reales de 1952 combinadas con las escenas de la gente del pueblo en la cinta, ambas en blanco y negro, como fundiendo cincuenta años de distancia; con una bellísima canción del uruguayo Jorge Drexler: “Tanta lágrima y yo sólo soy un vaso vacío…pero creo que he visto una luz al otro lado del río”, que da sentido a las escenas anteriores, y la mirada del ahora octogenario Alberto Granado al avión en que el jovencito Ernesto Guevara regresa a su Buenos Aires.


Una imagen

Cada espectador puede recoger al final de una película la imagen que más le impactó, le gustó o le disgustó, le conmovió, le implicó, le dejó pensando… Es importante que sea sólo una imagen, no toda la historia, ni muchas escenas, y que se quede con esa sola imagen. Ella contiene para él todo el secreto, todas las claves, de la historia. ¿Qué sentimiento me dejó esa imagen?, ¿qué me sucedió?, ¿qué me impresionó más?, ¿qué me hizo pensar?, ¿a dónde me llevó?, ¿con qué me relacionó?, ¿qué dice de mí esa imagen y con qué se relaciona de mi historia?

El disparo de un rifle unirá de repente, como por accidente y también necesidad, a los distintos personajes de Babel (González Iñárritu, EU, 2006); cambiará el rumbo de la historia y los afectará para siempre. Un accidente fortuito, un evento inesperado, una decisión repentina, entrecruza vidas separadas y las conecta con nuevas decisiones por tomar y nuevos caminos por andar. Y a partir del imprudente disparo, la herida provocada; no sólo la herida física, sino las heridas emocionales en cada uno de los personajes.


Un símbolo

Una imagen en alguna escena del filme, por ejemplo: un objeto, un detalle, un letrero, algo que sucede sin mayor importancia, etc., puede ser una imagen simbólica, es decir, puede estar hablando de algo no explícito, puede remitir o relacionar con algo más hondo, puede contener algún significado interior, sin que necesariamente el director mismo sepa por qué quiso dejar eso ahí, o el espectador sepa por qué le llamó la atención ese detalle. Retomarlo y desentrañarlo llevará a cada uno personalmente a significados que se le están ofreciendo detrás del símbolo.

Kieslowski puede hacer de los objetos más comunes el hilo de una historia: un teléfono en Rojo, una lámpara o una taza de café, en Azul; un telescopio y una botella de leche en No amarás (Decálogo 6), una computadora, un perro muerto y el hielo, en Decálogo 1... Historias redondas, perfectas, entrañables, porque están siempre cerca de la vida y de nuestras vidas; historias que nos revelan el secreto de las cosas y del alma detrás de unos símbolos.

Y en El camino a casa (de Zhang Yimou, China, 1999) el amor se va haciendo con la espera y la fidelidad, materializada en un plato de comida, un prendedor para el pelo, un estandarte rojo, una cubeta de agua, o un arreglo de papel de China,

El título

También podemos comentar qué nos dice el título de la película, ordinariamente el título original: ¿a qué se refiere, con qué lo relaciono de la película, qué clave de compresión me ofrece, cómo lo entiendo yo?
En Temporada de patos (Fernando Eimbcke, México, 2004), un cuadro de poco valor y escaso gusto estético - una temporada de patos junto a un lago - puede significar muchas cosas importantes si se aprende a ver junto con otros; así ayuda a evocar la fecha de un nacimiento, el motivo de una discordia, la pregunta escondida en el corazón, lo que hace falta hablar, la decisión que hay que tomar… Cada cosa que nos rodea en el pequeño espacio que habitamos puede unirnos o separarnos.

Hable con ella (Pedro Almodóvar, España, 2002) es una historia de hombres que miran, se enamoran, lloran, acompañan, ayudan, hablan, como Benigno y Marco los protagonistas. Hablan, aunque parezca que la mujer amada no escucha, porque creen que el alma de su bella durmiente puede escuchar; hombres que hablan y acompañan porque creen que es posible pasar de la muerte a la vida; hombres que se atreven a llorar porque las lágrimas son señales de cuánto se ama.


Un personaje y su espíritu

Cada uno de los personajes, o quizás mejor un solo personaje, me ha dejado una cantidad de sentimientos en el desarrollo de la historia narrada en la pantalla. Recoger esos sentimientos es reconocer que estoy implicado en la película, que ésta ha tocado mi interior, que la película ha valido para mí…Puedo preguntarme ¿con qué personaje me identifico más?, ¿en qué?, ¿qué dice de mí ese personaje?
Cuando vemos una película entramos en contacto cercano con historias humanas y, en ellas y a través de ellas, con el “espíritu” de hombres y mujeres; es decir, con aquello que anima a esas personas, las guía, les da sentido a sus vidas, las hace amar y luchar, salir adelante y lograr sus esperanzas, las ayuda a vivir y morir por algo que vale. Se nos concede el privilegio de recibir de ellos la motivación de sus vidas. Por eso puedo aprender mucho de la vida si reconozco el espíritu qué anima a algunos de los personajes de un filme.

Así, por ejemplo, puedo ver cuál es el espíritu que mueve a la generosa cocinera francesa refugiada en una aldea de pescadores daneses como sirvienta de dos hermanas solteras y muy religiosas en El festín de Babette (de Gabriel Axel, 1987), o a Manuela, la protagonista de Todo sobre mi madre (Pedro Almodóvar, 1999) que va a Barcelona tras la muerte accidental de su hijo para buscar al padre, y crea una cadena de entrañable solidaridad entre mujeres.

En conclusión:

El espíritu transmitido en una película puede ayudarnos a imaginar y elegir algo mejor para nuestra propia vida y la de nuestro mundo, algo que tenga más sabor de felicidad, de humanidad, de convivencia, de amor y de dignidad. Encontrarlo en una película y compartirlo a los demás es gozosa tarea de un amante del cine.




BIOGRAPHY

Born in Tijuana, Mexico, has been a Jesuit priest since 1973. He teaches Fundamental Theology and is the author of numerous articles and three books on cinema and spirituality (Imágenes del espíritu en el cine, Una guía para ver cine, Cómo aprovechar la espritualidad del cine). He is former president in Mexico of OCIC and SIGNIS, during 1995-2006, and member of Latinamerica Board.

He has been a SIGNIS jury member in many national and international film festivals.

GAYE ORTIZ




ROMERO

US, 1989, d. John Duigan
Rio de Janeiro, 1989, Commendation.


SHORT REVIEW

Fictionalized biography based upon the final three years of the life of Archbishop Oscar Romero, during which he became a passionate Christian prophet calling upon soldiers to cease their violence toward their fellow citizens during El Salvador’s long struggle with civil unrest. Romero’s strength is Raul Julia’s performance, and it is the horrific assassination in the sanctuary as Romero lifts the consecrated cup that is its most dramatic image. The film ends hopefully with a quote from Romero: “Let my blood be a seed of freedom and the sign that hope will soon be reality.”

LONG REVIEW

The time is winter 1977, the place El Salvador, a country where the minority ruling class uses the military to repress the citizens. El Salvador’s long struggle with civil unrest – more than 60,000 people killed between 1980 and 1989 alone - is also the story of a remarkable man, Archbishop Oscar Romero; this film presents a fictionalized biography of the final three years of his life. The first theatrical release of Paulist Productions, Romero was produced by Father Ellwood ‘Bud’ Kieser but the film does not ooze Catholic piety. A few predictably didactic scenes of peasants earnestly debating liberation theology are overshadowed by the more emotionally charged conversion of Romero that drives the plot. The rather shy and bookish cleric slowly moves from being a political establishment patsy to a passionate Christian prophet calling upon soldiers to stop the repression of their fellow citizens. In a society where the Catholic hierarchy is comfortably on the side of the ruling elite, Romero, who, as Kieser described him, was a ‘mouse of a man who became a tiger’ begins to make powerful enemies. This true story features a strong performance from Raul Julia, who claimed the film had engendered a spiritual awakening for him.

Romero’s graphic images of the victims of violence include the murder early in the film of Father Rutilio Grande, executed while three children escape the gunmen and run for their lives. In stark contrast the action cuts to Romero engaged in play with two privileged children of a government official, but a sign of how Romero changes in his accommodation of the rich and powerful comes later when asked to perform a private baptism for a government official’s widow; when he suggests that she is welcome at the communal baptism, she recoils at the thought of baptizing her baby with ‘a bunch of Indians’. This deftly played scene helps to explain the complexity and roots of the Salvadorean conflict with more finesse than a subsequent heavy-handed argument between Romero and gun-wielding priests about Marxism’s compatibility with liberation theology.

The Christ figure analogy is evoked by this story of Romero’s life and death; the archbishop risks persecution in dangerous times when flyers urge people to ‘be a patriot – kill a priest’. He prays in one scene for God’s strength – “I can’t. You must. I’m yours. Show me the way” – and then is stopped, stripped and taunted by soldiers in the street. He responds by celebrating the Mass where he stands, as the soldiers melt away into the crowd. However, it is the horrific symbolism of his assassination in the sanctuary as he lifts the consecrated cup that is of most dramatic effect, signaling the panic and despair of the country and of the universal Christian community at the news of his death. The film ends, however, on a hopeful note with a quote from Romero: “Let my blood be a seed of freedom and the sign that hope will soon be reality.”

CRITERIA FOR FILM REVIEWING

An important initial consideration in writing reviews is how to employ vivid language; if the objective is to inform the viewer about the film s/he must get a sense of it through the tone and images my words evoke.

There should be for me a balance in and respect for filmic as well as theological criteria. Some elements of film are more obviously important to the reader, such as actors and performance, plot, screenplay, and cinematography; special effects and music/soundtrack are also worth mentioning if they are of note. As Melanie Wright so aptly demonstrated in her book Religion and Film, film appreciation that includes knowledge about the film industry can enhance the understanding about a particular film produced by it; this is all the more important when reading about a film outside the Hollywood mainstream. A reviewer should aim to introduce the reader to the filmic sensibility dominant in the culture in which the film was made, and this is one thing that was invaluable in my work with OCIC and SIGNIS, which have long histories of supporting indigenous film industries through film festival awards from Catholic juries around the world.

Since I write mainly within a theological academic context I am looking in addition for what the film may offer in a dialogue with theology and religion. For the film Romero, for example, the context of the Marxism/liberation theology debate is one issue that would be fruitful material for the reader. The Christ figure analogy that is mentioned in my review of Romero, although sometimes inappropriate (e.g. Schindler’s List), is always useful in films with a hero figure, who viewers can assess through its limitations as well as its strengths. But whatever the reviewer decides is important to communicate to the reader about a film, it will be a dull read if the reviewer does not communicate her own passion for film. My epitaph will be, “Too many films, not enough time”!



BIOGRAPHY

The Rev. Dr. Gaye Williams Ortiz serves as minister of the Unitarian Universalist Church of Augusta, GA.

Rev. Ortiz taught in higher education for twenty years, ten of those in the United Kingdom, where she taught theology and religious studies, and was the Head of Cultural Studies at the College of Ripon and York St. John in Yorkshire. She has written extensively on religion and theology, and has published three books, two of them on her specialism of theology and film. From 1998-2001 she served as President of OCIC- Europe, and from 2001-5 as Vice- President of SIGNIS.

Rev. Ortiz is Co- Chair of the Interfaith Child Advocacy Network (ICAN) and is the Vice-President? of the Progressive Religious Coalition, which sponsors Augusta's annual Martin Luther King Jr. Interfaith Celebration. She is also a member of the Interfaith Fellowship of Augusta, the Richmond County Chapter of the NAACP, the CSRA Women’s Interfaith Network, and Augusta’s Interfaith Fellowship. She serves on the Board of the Augusta Authors Club and the Board of the Equality Clinic.

ROSE PACATTE




BAGDAD CAFÉ

1988, director Percy Adlon.

Rio de Janeiro, 1988 Commendation


SHORT REVIEW

Bagdad Café (Out of Rosenheim) – German tourists Jasmin Münchgstettner (Marianne Sägebrecht) and her husband (Hans Stadlbauer) have an argument while driving through the Mojave desert. She takes her suitcase and stomps down the deserted highway to a forlorn and neglected looking truck stop with a café and motel. Over the next few weeks Jasmin works hard to organize the motel and clean up the place in return for her keep. Her kindness and joy transform the grumpy and suspicious Africa-American? owner, Brenda (CCH Pounder), who is also having husband problems, and all those who live at the motel or frequent the Bagdad Café. Bagdad Café was nominated for an Academy Award in 1989 for Best Song “Calling You”, and won an OCIC commendation in Rio de Janeiro in 1988.


LONG REVIEW

Bagdad Café (Out of Rosenheim) – Jasmin (Marianne Sägebrecht) and Münchgstettner (Hans Stadlbauer) are German tourists on holiday in the United States. Too much time in the car, however, has soured their relationship. Jasmin gets out of the car in the middle of the Mojave Desert with her suitcase and her husband drives off. Refusing abandonment, Jasmin marches toward the only thing on the old highway: a sagging motel and truck stop: the Bagdad Café. It is run by the imperious and suspicious Brenda (CCH Pounder) who reluctantly lets Jasmin stay in return for work. Jasmin is almost offended by the disorder and neglect of the place. Jasmin, who speaks no English, notices that Brenda has husband troubles of her own. Very soon, Jasmin makes friends with Brenda’s grown children and attracts the attention of a permanent guest at the motel, a kind of cowboy - artist, Rudi Cox (Jack Palance). A former Hollywood set painter, he paints Jasmin’s portrait revealing that he sees the beauty beyond her full-figured middle-aged persona. Jasmin, meanwhile, transforms the café and the people who frequent it by her magic tricks and generosity.

Bagdad Café was written by the German husband and wife filmmaking team Percy and Eleonore Adlon; Percy also directed. The film was nominated for an Academy Award for Best Song for “Calling You” in 1989 and won numerous international awards including an OCIC Commendation in Rio de Janeiro in 1988.

Since its release Bagdad Café has reached cult status. Cinephiles recognize that the film’s quirky characters and the way it faces distrust of “the other” directly and by way of the heart, renders the film timeless. Whether intentional or not, twenty-five years after Ralph Nelson’s Lilies of the Field, (that won an Oscar for Sidney Portier in the lead role) Adlon gives audiences a way to consider racism and reverse racism by engaging German and African- American sensibilities against the backdrop of an arid American landscape.

Bagdad Café is a film that makes the audience laugh because of the small surprises that march across the screen. The film is a mirror that transforms just as it directs our gaze inward and outward simultaneously, to see and understand what really matters: people, regardless of race, gender, age, or anything.


CRITERIA FOR REVIEWING

Don't tell me that was it, Arnie! I mean, you gotta be kidding! That what I had you come up here for? I don't believe it! I mean she, she shows up outta nowhere without a car, without a map. She ain't got nothing but a suitcase filled with men's clothing. How come? How come she act so funny like she was gonna stay here forever? And with no clothes?! No! I don't like it! It don't make no sense at all! No, no, no, no, no! It don't make no sense!
– Brenda to Sheriff Arnie

In 1988 Washington Post critic Desson Howe said that the Bagdad Café was an “existential tethering place for the terminally weird.” I think Howe may have meant “eccentric”. Peculiar. Quirky. A cast of infinitely loveable characters from the Gospels on a journey of the heart, stuck in a surreal outpost dump on a forgotten American highway. They learn to let themselves be loved when they can barely love themselves. A screenwriter watched the movie with me one day and expressed genuine distaste for the film because he felt there was no character arc. The lead character, Jasmin, doesn’t grow and change, he said. He may be right; Jasmin is who she is. But, like Jesus, she is a catalyst that stirs things up. She irritates people to move beyond their inertia to see “the other” and learn to give of themselves unconditionally.

The magic of Jasmin lies in her own realization that change, transformation, is possible.

On the other hand, Jasmin does change. She begins to see herself as a beautiful woman deserving of love when Rudi paints her picture. She begins to see what he sees.
Jasmin has many roles in this little film is a model for the other citizens of the Bagdad Café rest stop.

This odd fable is one of my favorite films.

When I watch films for review I am attracted by two elements: relationships and mystery. The conflicts that provide the drama and drive the action can be resolved in so many ways but I am always looking at the human struggle and the human and Gospel values that underpin the denouement.

I am always looking for grace – for the characters and for myself.

I do not like “message” films. I find these boring and patronizing because they leave no room for the moral or Catholic imagination to engage in the character’s journey. Message movies are “useful” perhaps but “useful” has no place in the universe of authentic cinema. I want to savor the ah-ha moments and let the language of film wrap itself around my soul. When this happens, the reviews write themselves.



BIOGRAPHY


Sr. Rose Pacatte, a member of the Daughters of St. Paul, is the Director of the Pauline Center for Media Studies in Los Angeles.

Sister Rose is a Daughter of St. Paul, a media literacy education specialist, and the founding director of the Pauline Center for Media Studies in Culver City, CA where she teaches courses on media literacy for catechists and adults. A world traveler, she gives presentations and courses on media literacy around the globe. She has a BA in Liberal Arts with concentrations in catechetics and communications, an MEd in Media Studies from the Institute of Education, University of London, UK, and a Certificate in Pastoral Communication from the University of Dayton. She is an award winning author and co-author of books on film and scripture and media literacy education. Her most recent book is “Martin Sheen: Pilgrim on the Way” (2015).


Rose is the film columnist for St. Anthony Messenger and the National Catholic Reporter, reviews films for catechists and youth for RCLBenziger, hosts her own interview and review online show “The Industry with Sister Rose on the IN Network” and writes “Sister Rose at the Movies” blog on Patheos. Rose has created courses and facilitates them for the University of Dayton’s online Virtual Learning Community.

MARIA LAURA PAZ





LA EXTRANJERA

Argentina, 2007, Director: Fernando Díaz


SHORT REVIEW

Un actor de telenovelas que hace 35 años no aparece en pantalla grande y una actriz que tuvo que aprender el oficio campero son los que dan vida a Juan y María en La Extranjera. En esta película, Fernando Díaz, con una fotografía que retrata paisajes cuyanos, de tierra pelada y arbustos espinosos y unos cielos azules con nubes que dibujan pensamientos, habla de costumbres populares, de lo que hace a cada uno sentirse identificado consigo mismo y con los demás. Si bien la película tiene un tinte dramático, el público plantó sonrisas en frescas escenas que fueron recibidas con positiva sorpresa por el realizador.


LONG REVIEW

Como su título, la última obra de Fernando Díaz, es también una “extranjera” para el mercado local. Todavía no se estrenó en la Argentina y sí participó de varios festivales y muestras en el exterior. Ganó en Milán el premio del público, fue apertura en un festival cerca de Los Angeles, competirá en Málaga, viajó a Montréal. Pantalla Pinamar la presentó por primera vez en 35 mm. El premio del concurso de postproducción organizado por SIGNIS y los institutos de cine de América Latina ayudó bastante a concretar la película. En San Sebastián se escuchó la justificación del jurado: “Por la sobriedad narrativa para contarnos la difícil adaptación e integración del inmigrante en una tierra que necesita reapropiarse y apuesta finalmente por el encuentro con la gente, la solidaridad y la calidez de las relaciones humanas en un lugar de soledad.”

Es una historia simple con mucho que decir: María (Cali), que es argentina, vive en Barcelona. Una carta que recibe la hace regresar a la Argentina. Cuando llega a Indio Muerto, ahí mismo comenzará a reencontrarse con sus raíces.

De pronto, empieza a vivir una nueva vida. Juan (André) es un hacendado que se alejó de la ciudad para huir de toda responsabilidad. Rápidamente su liviana actividad diaria cambiará por la entrada de María en la escena. Los dos, rodeados por los pueblerinos, un tendero algo resentido y pícaro (Roly Serrano), que comercia hasta con la pobreza, y Antonia (Norma Argentina), el ama de llaves de Juan, mirarán con desconfianza la llegada de María y sin embargo, habrá caminos que los unan en lo material y en lo espiritual, alejando el desarraigo de todo tipo.

“Uno es extranjero de su propia vida”. María y Juan sufren no encontrar su verdadero lugar en la vida pero ambos van a transformarse cuando sus caminos se crucen. María aprenderá a reconocer el entorno natural que la sorprende a cada paso y Juan volverá a poner los pies sobre la tierra por María.

El director quiso plasmar la relación entre la tierra y la mujer. Cómo se enfrentan y los desafíos a vencer. “La extranjería está más allá de toda nacionalidad” y no tiene que ver con banderas.

Brevemente, lo que se quiso mostrar se mueve entre la soledad urbana donde no hay nada qué hacer y la soledad rural, que a cada momento trae un nuevo desafío, si uno le pone ganas.



CRITERIA FOR REVIEWING


Fue por el año 2000 que me tentó la posibilidad de escribir sobre los videos que alquilaba los fines de semana. El mismo criterio con el que elegía las películas para ir a ver a la sala cinematográfica era para alquilar VHS: los actores, los directores, una saga, un personaje, si había ganado algún premio, nada más ni nada menos.

El ciclo de e-mails titulado “Los videos que alquilé” pronto se hizo una costumbre entre mis amigos que reclamaban si no escribía las recomendaciones, -no las llamo críticas porque no me siento técnicamente calificada para llamarlas de esa manera y además porque también me parece que la crítica está como un escalón más alto que los espectadores comúnes no pueden ni quieren alcanzar-.

Mi reducido público me reclamó más y pidió que pasara a la radio. Allí, me decidí a presentar un programa de una hora, todos los sábados, con estrenos y clásicos. En este caso, había un hilo conductor entre las películas y los cortes de bandas sonoras que se elegían para la cita sabatina. “Críticas Especataculares” se mantuvo al aire por tres ciclos y tenía colaboradores que me ayudaban a hacer más rica la sesión, con contrapuntos y elgiendo el tema que reuniría éxitos y fracasos de la industria cinematográfica, únicamente tenían que coincidir con la idea central.

También para la misma época surgió la posibilidad de hacer las recomendaciones de Pluma (tal mi seudónimo artístico) en el Periódico Eclesia de la Diócesis de Lomas de Zamora, Buenos Aires, Argentina. ¿Qué plus tiene este espacio que sigo conservando hasta el día de hoy? El hacer reflexionar a los amigos del cine y el entretenimiento. No hay película que se resista a las “Pistas para la Reflexión” que dejo al final de cada texto sobre una película. Dos ó tres preguntitas bastan para que el espectador vea y se quede con algo valioso, que no pierda el tiempo en “diversiones” (huir de la realidad) y se entretenga descubriendo contenidos, temas de debate, disparadores que de otra manera hubieran quedado escondidos. La satisfacción más grande, saber que estas humildes preguntas pueden llegar a servir dentro de un encuentro catequístico con jóvenes o adultos y las películas ser fuente de debate en un grupo de novios en las charlas prenupciales.

Esto es en cuanto a las películas comerciales. Los festivales me aportaron una mirada más amplia y más profunda sobre todo al tener que juzgar el material visionado en los jurados. Me abrieron la puerta a otras culturas, a los cines nacionales y a piezas que pocas veces vuelven a pasar por los circuitos convencionales. Esto me dio pie a recomendar de otra manera y a hacerme una apasionada de estas películas off que tanto tienen que luchar por hacerse un lugar en la cartelera y algunas de ellas son verdaderas joyas. Incluso, recuerdo que en una discusión para decidir un premio le dimos importancia a los antivalores como una manera de denuncia fuerte, sin vueltas, el negativo de lo que debería ser para revelar el positivo. No es que apoyáramos los antivalores sino que su presencia frente a la ausencia del bien, nos ayudaba a justificar la posición del cineasta que había escogido contar una realidad desde ese costado crudo y así concientizar al espectador.

Por último, decir que desde mi profesión de periodista, investigar cómo se hacen las películas, quiénes las hacen, quiénes las financian, qué ideas se reciclan en cada argumento, las vidas de las personas frente y detrás de cámaras, es algo apasionante. Lo mejor es que pueda contribuir a utilizar los medios de una manera inteligente y hallar contenidos hasta en el entretenimiento. Siempre pedí a Dios ser comunicadora católica y a través de la recomendación en la radio o en la gráfica y las intervenciones en los jurados, siento que Él me lo concedió y no sólo eso, sino la gracia de encontrar otras personas, que también han encontrado su vocación en este servicio, muchos de ellos en SIGNIS por una Cultura de Paz.

ALBERTO RAMOS




FRESA Y CHOCOLATE/ STRAWBERRY AND CHOCOLATE

Director: Tomás Gutiérrez- Alea / Juan Carlos Tabío
Country: Cuba, Mexico, Spain, 1993
OCIC Prize, La Habana, 1993; OCIC Commendation, Berlinale 1994


SHORT REVIEW

El encuentro de un estudiante comunista (David) con un homosexual culto y marginado (Diego) en la Cuba de finales de los setenta da inicio a una hermosa amistad que se impone a prejuicios y exclusiones. Para David representará, además, un viaje iniciático a las raíces de la cultura cubana, así como el despertar de una vocación: la literatura. Diego, por otra parte, recuperará la fe en el hombre y la nobleza de sus ideales. Juntos descubren en el diálogo abierto y fraterno la posibilidad de crecer como seres humanos. Un filme luminoso y conmovedor, brillantemente escrito, con dos de las actuaciones más memorables que haya registrado la historia del cine cubano.


LONG REVIEW

La historia de Diego, fotógrafo e intelectual marginado por su condición gay en la Cuba revolucionaria de fines de los setenta, y David, estudiante universitario de Ciencias Sociales, comunista y homofóbico, comienza cuando ambos coinciden en una famosa heladería habanera (de ahí el título de Fresa y Chocolate, que asocia dichos sabores a las respectivas preferencias sexuales de los protagonistas), y se cierra tras un desgarrador abrazo que sella simbólicamente la amistad nacida entre ambos. Dicha relación se forja a través de sucesivos encuentros que tienen por escenario la “guarida” de Diego, suerte de templo del arte atestado de iconografía cubana donde David, a la vez que prueba sus primeras armas en la literatura, descubre la otra cara de la cultura nacional –voluntaria o negligentemente silenciada por la retórica oficialista.

Fascinación, desconfianza y temor se mezclan en la reacción inicial de David ante Diego, pues se trata de enfrentar al Otro que, además de homosexual y creyente, desafía a la institución política, fustigando la mediocridad de una burocracia obsesionada en vigilar y castigar toda desviación de la norma sancionada por el Poder, sea ideológica, sexual o confesional. Más adelante, sin embargo, lo que comenzó como un fallido intento de seducción por parte de Diego deriva en un admirable diálogo entre tutor y discípulo que desmonta esas estructuras opresivas y convierte a David, de un ingenuo y prejuiciado portavoz de la última hornada de revolucionarios cubanos, en un ser más comprensivo y abierto al reclamo de justicia reivindicado por Diego. Demanda que, a todas luces, trasciende la simple aceptación de la diferencia sexual para referir al derecho de disentir que asiste a todo ser humano, sin menoscabo de su dignidad y condición. Para Diego, tocado por la pureza de David, la experiencia implica dejar atrás su predisposición a juzgar desde el resentimiento –típica reacción del sujeto estigmatizado y excluido–, para crecer junto al otro en lo humano, desde una cultura del diálogo acogedor y respetuoso. En último término, ambos personajes representan las dos mitades de un país escindido por una apropiación dogmática, excluyente y autoritaria del concepto de nación. La película, que aparece justo cuando la utopía del socialismo real se derrumba tras la caída del Muro de Berlín y Cuba se hunde en la peor crisis económica y moral de su historia, se hace eco de las mutaciones que experimenta el discurso oficial de la época, caracterizado por el abandono de la ortodoxia marxista a favor de un nacionalismo más plural y tolerante.

La puesta en escena, típica de un relato de iniciación en la vida, apela a una narrativa de corte melodramático donde descuellan la impecable factura del guión, un concepto escenográfico, fotográfico y musical en función de las negociaciones simbólicas alrededor de los tópicos de la cubanía y de la salvación por la cultura que centran el discurso fílmico, y las extraordinarias prestaciones de Jorge Perugorría y Vladimir Cruz (en los roles de Diego y David, respectivamente) como agentes de ese proyecto de redención colectiva en el cual se inscribe el filme.


CRITERIA FOR REVIEWING

Al reseñar un filme se impone atender como mínimo (aunque no exclusivamente), a los siguientes aspectos:

1) detalles básicos de la trama que permitan una visión sumaria de lo narrado;

2) rasgos estilísticos sobresalientes (en lo que atañe a puesta en escena y cámara, así como a la postproducción) con una implicación directa en la expresión de las ideas manejadas por el filme;

3) contextualización histórica del relato y las correspondencias que se establecen en ambos sentidos entre este y la época donde se enmarca (actitud crítica, laudatoria o indiferente; fidelidad o distorsión de la mirada; apertura o censura, etc.);

4) especial atención al diseño de personajes como portadores de la ideología y el sistema de valores del filme;

5) identificación de los significados explícitos e implícitos en el discurso fílmico, con énfasis en la expresión de valores humanos universales que sancionen o disientan de una ética humanista asentada en la prédica cristiana de los Evangelios. Se trata de un examen crítico y rigurosamente fundamentado que busque y revele, en las narraciones cinematográficas, la encarnación de una espiritualidad viva y contradictoria que, consciente o no de ello, interpela a Dios desde nuestra naturaleza pecadora, así como los aciertos y limitaciones del realizador a la hora de evocar esas experiencias de vida a través del lenguaje audiovisual.



BIOGRAPHY

Alberto Ramos Ruiz (Cuba, 1957). Film critic and festival programmer. His reviews have appeared in Ecos, Cine Cubano, Ciemme and cin&media (Venice), SIGNIS Media (Brussels), Kinetoscopio (Bogotá) and Pantalla 90 (Madrid), among others, as well as in several online websites like Miradas, Mabuse, SIGNIS and Nuevo Cine Latinoamericano. As film critic, he has covered the festivals of Venice, San Sebastián, Montréal, Fribourg, Rotterdam, Berlin, Zanzibar and Toronto, where he has also served in the SIGNIS, Ecumenical and FIPRESCI juries. From 2003 to 2006, he was the Cuban correspondent of the International Film Guide (London). Besides that, he has contributed to the biographical and thematic entries of the forthcoming Dictionary of Spanish, Portuguese and Latin American Cinema (SGAE, Madrid). In 2005, he joined the staff of the International Festival of New Latin American Cinema, held annually in Havana, as catalogue editor and programmer of the Official Section and the sidebars World Documentary Panorama and Experimental Cinema. He is a member of SIGNIS Cuba since 1996, and edited its magazine Ecos from 2000 to 2007.

MAGGIE ROUX






LADYBIRD LADYBIRD

UK, 1994, d. Ken Loach.
Berlin 1994, Ecumenical Prize


SHORT REVIEW

Loach’s film Ladybird Ladybird (1994 Berlinale Ecumenical Jury Prize) tells the story of Maggie an abused mother, with four children by four different fathers.
The film charts a pathway through well trodden Loach territory. Maggie is poor, powerless and working class. She struggles to survive against the twin perils of her personal inability to sustain a decent family life clashing with a support system which is hopelessly encumbered by over work and underfunding straight- jacketed into a legal approach to the deepest of human problems which instead require a creative, realistic approach. A disturbing, thought provoking but ultimately hopeful, film.


LONG REVIEW

Loach’s film Ladybird Ladybird (1994 Berlinale Ecumenical Jury Prize) tells the story of Maggie an abused Liverpudlian mother, with four children by four different fathers.
Having left her most recent violent partner after a beating (an unflinching piece of direction from Loach and exceptional performances from Chrissie Rock and Ray Winstone) Maggie and the children live in a battered woman’s refuge. It is an under-funded mess with dangerous electrical wiring. While Maggie is on a night out she leaves her children locked in the refuge in the informal care of another mother. There is a terrible accident ending in tragedy for Maggie’s young son. As a result of her parental neglect Maggie loses her children. The story then plots the inevitable stages of the breakdown of the individual and the family. Maggie is granted limited, supervised contact with her children, however her interactions with the authorities from one exhausted, but caring foster parent to the child protection board which deems her unfit to be a mother, demonstrate a woman whose mode of behaviour and communication is dictated by the anger and fear of her own violent and neglected childhood. Loach shows us a child protection system which uses punitive tactics almost designed to further inflame passionate situations. His compassionate camera tracks the resigned passivity of children who have no expectation other than being passed from unsuitable pillar to dangerous post and he shows the explosive, desperation of parents unable to control their response to an unfathomable system.

Maggie’s new partner Jorge (a political refugee) is not violent. He has a real sense of the importance of love and of family. Through Jorge’s story Loach clearly positions the contrast between political regimes characterised by brutality and that of the powers challenging Maggie which are well meaning, if not carefully thought through. Maggie and Jorge go on to have two daughters - each taken from Maggie at, or soon after birth simply as a precaution against Maggie’s past pattern (violent partner, children put at risk) repeating in the future.

Loach himself describes Ladybird, Ladybird as “rather a tough film for people to take”. His film ends with hope, however. The film is based on a true story. While Maggie and Jorge lose their two daughters, some rapprochement is clearly reached with the authorities as revealed at the end of the film. Neither the system nor Maggie, are, in the end, ultimate failures.


CRITERIA FOR REVIEWING

My work as a film reviewer has been directed at three different and often separate audiences. First as an academic writing film comment for academic purposes my reviews are generally in depth with space for discussion on related aspects of academic film theory, scholarship, film history and discourse on modes and effects.

The second audience are those interested in religious, mythic and spiritual aspects of film. These reviews are unlikely to engage with academic discourses on film. Rather they might explore concepts such as archetypal motifs, theological concepts such as redemption or saving grace or broadly spiritual themes such as the symbolism of the journey, managing changes or, perhaps, a character coming to terms with their approaching death

The third (and main) audience for my reviews is the radio audience. This can then be further broken down into two main sections – the Radio Four National and International audience which is a combination of the first two general audiences – knowledgeable, fairly serious, mature and savvy and the local radio audience. This last, has been my main audience for several years served by a weekly radio review spot on BBC Radio Leeds. This audience is particularly well targeted. The radio station has a very clear understanding of who their audience is – even down to identifying them by name (such as Sandra and Ray). They are around fifty plus, married with children and a dog and they live within a certain financial bracket. Obviously the station caters for a fairly wide sweep of ages, types, family situations etc but their bedrock audience is the one which presenters must ensure not to alienate.

It is this last group with whom I identify most when reviewing films. These are the people who go to see movies in multiplexes or in tiny village cinemas (indeed it is this group who keep such cinemas alive). They rarely, if ever, go to inner city arts cinemas. They generally live in the suburbs or well outside of town centres and the expense of inner city parking and cinema tickets is prohibitive within their entertainment budget.

It is the last group who made movies such as Mamma Mia runaway hits both in cinema and through DVD sales. They might go to see Mel Gibson’s Signs but are unlikely to have seen The Passion of the Christ or Apocalypto.

My personal response to the task of film reviewing for such an audience is one of seeing and of waiting. I do not allow myself to research a film before reviewing it. I must bring as much personal insight to my reviews as I can, therefore the cacophony of views, opinions, gossip etc about movies can get in the way of my own voice. The listeners have to trust me. It they don’t they will simply switch off after one or two unsuccessful (and for this audience, expensive) trips to the cinema. They have to know that if I think a film is worth the price of babysitters, petrol, parking and cinema tickets then they are fairly safe to make the trip. I will tell them whether, in my view, the film is not worth such a precious and expensive night out but possibly is worth purchasing on DVD when the prices come down. It might be that my advice is to wait until it is shown on the television. It might be not to bother at all.

I try to arrange my viewing a few days before my broadcast. That way I give a film time to percolate through my thoughts. What themes do I find emerge in the cinema and what themes wait to emerge even more insistently as I replay the film in my mind – perhaps when driving to and from work? Which films engage me even more in the couple of days between viewing and broadcast and which begin to fade? Which films did I hate or love on viewing but find over the next couple of days begin to change for me? Which films disappoint almost at once and continue to disappoint? A fairly recent example of such a film is Will Smith’s Seven Pounds. This was nothing like as deep and as enduring as Sean Penn’s 21 grams. Both of these films should be perfect for my audience. One however disappointed and the other grows in stature as time passes.

Mamma Mia was joyful, but was superficially just a chick flick. However it had the underlying themes of the mature search for romance and love and seeing one’s children off into their own lives. Watching Mammia Mia in a packed cinema of the Abba generation and with a friend in her 70’s, the song Slipping Through My Fingers rendered the audience silent and reflective. Many (including my friend whose only child, a daughter, had died in her forties from cancer) were silently weeping during those few minutes. Shirley Valentine an ever popular film with this audience explores the moment when the middle-aged realise their dreams are faded and that the reality they are living cannot sustain them into their old age.

As the reviewer serving this audience I have to be attentive to such themes – seeing past the superficial comedy, for example, in a film such as such as The Full Monty - a film about men stripping themselves to the bone.

The heart of the film is the loss of work and dignity for a proud people. This is ever more a contemporary situation. My audience of local radio listeners live in this uncertain world and films like The Full Monty hold up a two sided mirror to their fears – one tragic and the other comedic. The recognition of the first and the ministry of the second assure people that their story is being told.

And that is the most important thing I as a reviewer must understand. My reviews must serve my audience’s need to engage with films through which they can recognise their own stories, their own lives. The genres might be comic, chick flick, buddy, violent, epic – genre is beside the point: details such as the stars, the directors etc are interesting but also beside the point. The point for my audience is the same as that of the SIGNIS and Ecumenical Juries. They connect with stories speaking of humanity, spirituality, justice, human dignity, respect for the environment, peace and solidarity.




BIOGRAPHY

Maggie has over forty years of experience in Broadcasting, voice production creative writing and content generation for creative programming. She continues to maintain a regular presence in the broadcasting industries as a television and radio contributor on film criticism and general matters of media, film and faith.
Maggie has served as a Director of The World Association for Christian Communication (which supports and manages media projects across the world). She has also served on the European Committee for that organisation.

In the 1990’s Maggie served for five years on the Central Religious Advisory Committee for the BBC and the I.T.C. She was one of the authors of Religion & Religious Broadcasting – Report of the Working Party of the Central Religious Advisory Committee (1996) commissioned by the BBC and I.T.C. Maggie was also one of the special working party reporting to a Parliamentary Committee discussing the Future of Religious Broadcasting in a changing regulatory framework.

She sits on the Strategic Communications Steering Committee for the Catholic Bishops Office for England and Wales. Maggie served for many years on the Editorial Board of the Leeds Diocesan Catholic Voice and later the Catholic Post. She has been a member of the Strategic Communications Steering Committee for the Catholic Bishops Office for England and Wales and has represented the Bishop’s Conference at meetings both in Madrid and Rome. Maggie is a member of SIGNIS (the International Catholic Organisation for Film and Media) and a consultative member to the Board.

EDGAR RUBIO





DESIERTO ADENTRO/ DESERT WITHIN


Director. Rodrigo Plá.
Productores: Germán Méndez y Rodrigo Plá
Guión. Laura Santillo y Rodrigo Plá.
Fotografía: Serguei Salívar
Música: Jacobo Lieberman
Intérpretes: Mario Zaragoza, Diego Cataño, Martín Zapata, Hielen Yánez, Luis Fernando Peña.
México, 2008
Mención honorífica de SIGNIS en el Festival Cero Latitud, en Quito, Octubre 2008



SHORT REVIEW

Un hombre atormentado por la culpa pretende salvar su alma y el cuerpo de los hijos que le quedan construyendo un templo. Él busca, como sucedía en el Antiguo Testamento, un trueque: perdón a cambio de un holocausto, para sanar la ira de un Dios que sólo busca sangre y culpables. ¿Puede existir una forma divina más contraria a la revelación comunicada por Jesús con el tierno Abba? El filme del joven director uruguayo-mexicano Rodrigo Plá cimbra nuestro espíritu al mostrarnos cómo la obsesión religiosa deriva en locura y no en la libertad del amor al que el testimonio cristiano nos llama con persistencia.






LONG REVIEW

Quienes hemos experimentado la culpa sabemos el infierno de vivir sin posibilidad de paz.

¿Cómo revelar en el cine este tormento misterioso de la conciencia?

Esta conciencia culposa ha marcado la historia religiosa de México. Las manifestaciones de esa culpa pasan por peregrinaciones, rezos, vestimenta y resguardo de niños santos, vírgenes peregrinas, procesiones, mandas, retablos…

¿Qué mueve esta expresión de la religiosidad del pueblo de Dios?

Entre 1926 y 1929 esa religiosidad fue desviada hacia la Guerra Cristera. El gobierno fanático de Plutarco Elías Calles cerró los templos y optó por extirpar una fe que concebía como enajenante.

Obispos, sacerdotes y en especial laicos optaron por la opción militar para salvaguardar el derecho a la libertad de creer.

Encontraron un pueblo propicio para la lucha, capaz de seguir la autoridad de los párrocos, dispuesto a dar la vida por una tradición concentrada en templos, en imágenes y en la figura de los consagrados.

De este caldo de cultivo surge Elías (Mario Zaragoza), el protagonista de Desierto Adentro (México, 2008) película del director uruguayo formado en México, Rodrigo Plá.

Él no parece dispuesto a tomar las armas por la Iglesia. Pero la creencia en el destino de los niños no bautizados lo deposita en el terreno de la culpa.

“Maldito es quien por preservar la vida de uno de sus hijos permite la muerte de sus hermanos”. Ésta y otras maldiciones terminan por arrojarlo al desierto. Encamina en esta locura a sus hijos. A uno de ellos lo encierra, como Niño Dios, en un relicario y en un baúl.

El cifrado vétero-testamentario del filme nos muestra los símbolos del desierto, de un Dios inmisericorde, de un hombre condenado, de la ausencia de providencia divina, de sacrificios y de expiaciones que no terminan por “complacer” a un Dios desencarnado de la vida, sin presencia comunitaria y sin amor.

Elías arrastra en esta fe desierta a sus hijos vivos. Los preserva para cumplir la encomienda de construir un templo y calmar, así, la ira de Dios.

A él lo mueve el miedo. Teme perder lo que ama.

La fuerza íntima de la libertad comienza a desplegarse en la conciencia de sus hijos: uno desea una mujer, otra tocar lo que se le ha presentado como prohibido, otro más sólo subir un árbol. La fotografía y la banda sonora del filme nos comunican con fuerza estas convicciones.

La libertad del amor choca con la desolación del miedo. La culpa sin misericordia sólo deriva en muerte como con el traidor de las treinta monedas, incapaz de mirar en la cruz la felicidad redentora de quien da la vida por sus amigos.

La religión cuando en lugar de revelar sesga, cuando en lugar de liberar encierra, y cuando en lugar de amar opta por infundir miedo, se convierte en un totalitarismo atroz, cercano en formas y actos a los peores totalitarismos de la historia de la humanidad. Es una religión incapaz de ofrecer esperanza.

Rodrigo Plá, vía las manos de Aureliano (Diego Cataño), el hijo más pequeño de Elías, parece repetirnos que la única expiación humanizante es la que deriva en arte.

Una y otra vez los sucesos más trágicos, pero también los que son fuente de esperanza, son transformados por Aureliano en retablos religiosos bellamente elaborados, que dotan de una textura fantástica e icónica al filme de Plá.

A través de ellos se graba el tiempo-vida de su familia. Nada, ni la muerte, escapa a su mirada y a su arte.

Un arte que terminará liberándolo de la obsesión pecaminosa del Padre. Al final, tras la pérdida de lo amado, comprende que sólo la Misericordia puede abrir al hombre a la libertad y al bien, y corre. Nada podrá ya detenerlo.





CRITERIA FOR REVIEWING

Sigo en mi propuesta de lectura del Cine una versión libre del método trascendental del filósofo Bernard Lonergan, contenido en cuatro encomiendas para los seres: sé atento (ver), sé inteligente (entender), sé juicioso (valorar) y ama (actuar).

Ver

Miramos en el cine sólo una porción minúscula del proceso de creación cinematográfica. Como sucede en nuestra vida cotidiana, todo lo que da sentido a nuestra existencia escapa a la pobreza de nuestra mirada.

Pero eso que vemos es mucho, es vasto, tanto que es difícil apreciar en toda su magnitud la riqueza del filme; por eso nuestra mirada sólo alcanza a ver y a recordar algunos detalles de la obra cinematográfica, sólo percibimos algunos de los recursos: una docena de planos, un enfoque, un registro, cómo es utilizada la luz en una escena, o el movimiento narrativo de la cámara en una secuencia.

Nuestra mirada corta nos dice que tal asunto es importante para la lectura del largometraje, que el guión se sustenta en tales y tales referencias, que la dirección de arte abreva de determinadas fuentes.

¿Cómo apreciar cabalmente un filme si lo que lo constituye no está presente en el cuadro de la imagen?

¿Cómo comprender el esfuerzo humano contenido en una realización cinematográfica si ésta escapa a la pobreza de nuestra mirada?

¿Qué detalles nos podrían estar revelando la verdadera naturaleza de una película?

¿Cómo se mira lo que se ama?

Todo nos parece indicar que lo primero que requiere el cine es aprecio por lo que se ve, amor por lo que se mira, una atención profunda para intentar ver la realidad llevada a nuestra mirada por la pasión y el amor de un hombre dispuesto a filtrar su realidad interior-intelección (director de cine) a través de la artesanía de una realización cinematográfica y del esfuerzo solidario de un grupo de amigos (guión, fotografía, dirección de arte, actuación), y de todo lo que permite la construcción del universo contenido en una película.

Entender (Insight).

Degustar las imágenes, rumiarlas, de modo que se apoderen de nuestra conciencia, que las recordemos y volvamos a vivir. De eso se trata el ver una película.

Pasar de la impresión general sensitiva al reconocimiento y al compromiso.

El cine está ahí, presente como un misterio luminoso que nos convoca y nos consuela.

Podría terminar con el encendido de las luces o con un vacío: me gustó, o con una voz de desprecio.

Sólo cuando regresamos a las imágenes, para intentar comprenderlas y disfrutarlas, el cine aparece en su real magnitud.

Tal proceso requiere de la atención profunda, del estar atentos a los detalles, las actuaciones, los métodos, las palabras y, sobretodo, a las imágenes donde se carga el simbolismo de un filme.

La lectura, además de este nivel de atención, requiere poner a disposición un background de conocimientos históricos, científicos, humanos, espirituales; para poder comprender la obra que se nos es mostrada como un regalo.

Sé inteligente sería la demanda en este nivel, si queremos reconocernos en el cine.

Valorar.

Caer en cuenta de esta primera impresión del filme nos lleva a la siguiente cuestión: preguntarnos si realmente es así, entrar en diálogo sobre los símbolos de la película, para, posteriormente, atender al llamado a las posturas éticas e ideológicas contenidas en todo cine verdadero.

Se trata de construir un proceso humano de reflexión sobre una obra artística.

Esto no es un asunto menor ni una elucubración ociosa. Mejor aún, es la posibilidad de tener actos de intelección poderosos, revelados por el lenguaje cinematográfico.

¿Quién no ha visto reflejada alguna faceta de su vida en un filme?, ¿quién no ha caído en cuenta de algún problema vital mientras contempla una escena?, ¿quién no ha incorporado algún dato o argumento a su ensamble de conocimientos revelado vía un documental o una cinta de ficción?

Actuar.

Llevar el cine a la calle, a mis decisiones diarias, a la vida pues. Descubrirme citando en mis conversaciones escenas de películas que me han marcado, rumiando palabras escritas con imágenes, aprovechando piezas concretas de cine en las clases, recordándome viendo un filme determinado en una época de mi vida. Participando de ese gran Filme (con mayúsculas) donde alguien más nos mira siempre, en una especie de narrativa cinematográfica donde los hombres nos miramos y somos mirados por Dios.

La más importante tarea en esta zona del fenómeno cinematográfico es la posibilidad que ofrece el cine de purificar nuestra mirada, de retornar a la esperanza y de amar.

Esto abreva de repensar el cine, de construir las palabras para nombrarlo, de elegir aquellas voces fieles a la verdad del director, quien ha pasado también por este proceso para construir su obra.

Con este sentido de pertenencia a una humanidad peregrina, con la esperanza puesta en la luz misteriosa de aquello que hace surgir desde el fondo de las conciencias al cine y nos permite mirarlo y comprenderlo.

Y esta realidad no puede sino situarse en el territorio misterioso del amor. Porque en un sentido profundo el cine es un acto de amor, y mirarlo y descubrirlo con este resguardo de lo que consideramos valioso, nos ayuda a comprenderlo mejor, a verlo mejor y a convertirlo en una nueva buena noticia.

¿Cuantas veces no hemos salido reconciliados con la existencia después de mirar una película? ¿Cuántas veces no hemos salido de una sala conflictuados, horrorizados? Y comienza un proceso en nuestro interior que nos lleva a buscar, con nuestros medios limitados, una transformación en la esperanza de esa realidad expuesta por un director indignado.

Por esas tantas y tantas veces que el cine nos convoca, nos sacude y nos fastidia; por ser esa luz icónica para mirar la realidad de un mundo consumido por la desesperanza, por mirarnos desde nuestra propia verdad sin otra mediación, por la posibilidad de ser un arte verdadero; el cine y su encarnación en películas nos purifica, nos recrea la esperanza y nos convierte en el amor y en la fe de que esta realidad, vista por una cámara, puede transformarse humanamente al anunciar la buena noticia de ser, en su estrato más profundo, una luz tocada por el rostro de Jesús; como el prójimo encarnado, que somos nosotros mismos, si permitimos ver-valorar-entender-actuar apropiados por la esperanza que esa misma luz emana incesantemente.



BIOGRAPHY

Maestro en Educación Humanista por la Universidad Iberoamericana y Licenciado en Comunicación por la Universidad Loyola del Pacífico.
Académico en las áreas de Cine, Comunicación, Lenguaje y Reflexión crítica de la modernidad en la Universidad Loyola del Pacífico, la Universidad Interamericana para el Desarrollo, el Ayuntamiento de Acapulco y organismos federales del Gobierno de México.

Desde su juventud participa en distintos proyectos de apoyo comunitario y pastoral en comunidades indígenas de la sierra de Guerrero.

Fue Secretario General del Consejo Nacional de Laicos de México, Editor del Semanario de la Arquidiócesis de Acapulco “Mar Adentro”, Coordinador del Programa Diálogo Fe Cultura de la Universidad Loyola del Pacífico y miembro del Campo Estratégico Fe-Cultura? del Sistema Universitario Jesuita.
Desde 1996 publica críticas de cine y poesía en distintos medios de comunicación de circulación local y nacional.
En 2007 fue miembro del Jurado internacional SIGNIS para la 64ª. Mostra Internazionale d'Arte Cinematografica de Venecia.

JUAN PABLO SERRA





LA BUENA ESTRELLA/ LUCKY STAR

Spain, 1997, director Ricardo Franco
Mención especial del jurado ecuménico en el Festival de Cannes 1997


SHORT REVIEW

Rafael, un carnicero sencillo que tiempo atrás resultó castrado en un accidente laboral, lleva una existencia tranquila y solitaria desde la muerte de sus padres. Una noche auxilia a Marina, una joven pordiosera que está siendo apaleada por Daniel, su compañero y amante. Más aún, la acoge en su casa e inician una relación en la que ambos dan cumplimiento a su anhelo de tener una familia. Sus expectativas de normalidad se complican cuando Daniel —del que Marina sigue enamorada— sale de la cárcel y se presenta en la casa de ambos.

Pese a estar basada en una historia real, su argumento es algo “extraño” y contiene aspectos morales discutibles. Aún así, Ricardo Franco consigue plenamente su objetivo de mostrar que la bondad anida en todo corazón, existe y, cuando se manifiesta, reconstruye a las personas y a la misma sociedad.


LONG REVIEW

“¿Cómo puede uno saber lo que ocurre en el corazón de otro?” se pregunta Rafa en un momento de la cinta. Un interrogante complejo al que, sin embargo, intentan responder con delicadeza Ricardo Franco y Ángeles González-Sinde?, director y guionista. Como los animales del matadero que son descuartizados durante los créditos iniciales, Franco —que moriría un año después de estrenar esta película, en pleno rodaje de su siguiente obra— disecciona con especial sensibilidad el alma de sus personajes mediante una puesta en escena de pocos escenarios, planos cortos y potentes subrayados musicales que muestran a estos tres seres como son, a veces bondadosos, a veces reincidentes en viejos vicios. Así, sus acciones y decisiones revelan tanto la sorprendente capacidad regenerativa de los actos altruistas como la deshumanización que produce el egoísmo, la indiferencia o la insolidaridad.

Por un lado está el manso, un carnicero castrado, de religiosidad cristiana arraigada, que vuelve a la vida gracias al acto de caridad sincera que realiza con Marina. Su hermana será la primera en darse cuenta de la dinámica propia de la libertad, que cuando se usa para hacer el bien redunda en los demás pero, también, sobre la persona que lleva a cabo el acto bueno. Cuando Rafa le comenta que quiere estar con Marina porque —a pesar de su azarosa vida pasada, de orfanato en orfanato— ella le llena la vida de alegría, no encuentra reproche en su hermana, sino todo lo contrario. “La de veces que te he imaginado en esa casa, viejo, solo… ¿Es una locura que estés con ella? ¡Lo que es, es un milagro!”.

Además, será mediante la relación con Marina que Rafa superará momentáneamente su condición de manso. “Soy un hombre herido, mutilado, pero soy un hombre” le dirá a su mujer, la tuerta, una antigua prostituta que, tras ser rescatada gracias a un acto de bondad desinteresada, redescubre en sí misma sus mejores anhelos, tales como ser madre y formar una familia. A diferencia de Daniel, que quería que abortara, con Rafa estos deseos no son negados sino potenciados, hasta el punto que reconocerá legalmente a la hija de Marina y asumirá una paternidad real con respecto a ella. Incluso Daniel, el guapo de cara, un patético delincuente de poca monta —excelentemente interpretado por Jordi Mollá—, experimentará una leve transformación al ser acogido en casa de Marina y Rafa. Incapaz de fiarse de nadie y pendiente en exceso de sí mismo, la convivencia en un verdadero hogar y el ser tratado dignamente harán aflorar tímidamente en él el agradecimiento (ver la funda de navaja que compra a Rafa), la preocupación por el otro (recoge a la pequeña Estrella en la guardería, recomienda a Rafa que se abrigue antes de salir de casa) e incluso el respeto y consideración hacia la valía de las personas generosas.

La buena estrella ganó cinco premios Goya —película, director, guión original, actor principal y banda sonora— y propició un moderado debate en medios religiosos. El principal punto en disputa tuvo que ver con la “asistencia” que Marina presta al final del film para acabar con el sufrimiento de un Daniel en estado terminal. Se trata de un acto moralmente inaceptable, sí, pero no de un protocolo que la película proponga como medida universal. De hecho, en la escena inmediatamente anterior el personaje había recibido la Extrema Unción de manos del amigo sacerdote de Rafa. Pese al recelo que tiene contra los sacerdotes y de su escepticismo hacia la religión (“si hay un Dios no creo que vayamos a hacer las paces Él y yo… y si es tan bueno como decís, no me va a dejar colgado como todo el mundo”, una opinión que suscribía el director de La buena estrella), lo cierto es que acepta el sacramento y escucha la oración donde justamente se apela a la “bondadosa misericordia” de Dios. La diferencia de matices entre Rafa —único creyente de los tres, que se había negado con vehemencia a “liquidar” a Daniel— y Marina —agnóstica, que accede a “ayudar” a Daniel movida por la compasión y falta de voluntad propia— muestra a las claras la imposibilidad de universalizar la resolución de esta situación.

El otro asunto discutido tuvo que ver con la pertinencia de que un ateo y anarquista —tal como gustaba definirse Ricardo Franco— presentara como caritativas ciertas acciones que más bien son inmorales, ingenuas o directamente torpes (entregar la propia esposa a otro, disparar a alguien para que deje de sufrir, asumir la paternidad de hijos ajenos). Estas situaciones podrán resultar extrañas o forzadas, pero eran el modo peculiar en que el director entendía la caridad como elemento que ayuda a sobrellevar el abandono y la soledad. Se trata de dos heridas que nunca curan —de ahí la sensación de tristeza y el ligero nihilismo que coronan el film—, pero que gracias a la compañía cordial de amigos, esposa, hijos… se hacen más llevaderas.


CRITERIA FOR REVIEWING

Como crítico de cine, hay dos caras que siempre intento analizar en un film e incluir en mis reseñas. Por un lado, busco juzgar elementos como el guión (estructura de la historia, calidad de los diálogos, dibujo de personajes), el lenguaje de cámara, la puesta en escena en conjunto y las tesis de fondo. Por otro lado, procuro buscar la información relevante acerca de la sociedad en la que nace la película, la corriente cinematográfica en la que encaja y el tema del argumento.

Ciertamente, cada película exige una reseña distinta. Cuando empecé a escribir crítica cinematográfica, mi enfoque tendía ser más “periodístico” y a equilibrar información sobre la película (premios, declaraciones del director, recaudación en el país de estreno, etc.), enunciación de las tesis del film y explicación del significado de ciertos planos o secuencias. Con el paso del tiempo, he tendido a adoptar un enfoque más “académico”, donde cada vez aprecio más el contraste con las opiniones de otros expertos y voces autorizadas.

Actualmente, el método que sigo para escribir críticas de cine es como sigue. Primero, veo la película y dedico un rato a reflexionar sobre el significado de la historia. Dependiendo de la película, para llevar a cabo esta reflexión aplico categorías morales, históricas, filosóficas, existenciales, éticas o antropológicas. En segundo lugar, me formo una hipótesis de trabajo que voy contrastando con críticas ya publicadas en periódicos nacionales y en medios extranjeros (para lo cual suelen ser útiles bases de datos como Metacritic). La lectura de este material suele proporcionarme una base consistente de aquellos puntos de un film mejor valorados por la mayoría y habitualmente me suscita varias preguntas acerca de si es o no significativo que ciertos elementos de un film sean poco destacados. En tercer lugar, comparo la hipótesis obtenida tras esta breve labor de investigación con la experiencia humana elemental, esto es, con aquellas exigencias eternas de verdad, belleza, justicia, felicidad, etc. con las que el ser humano está dotado. ¿Es la película leal con la experiencia y el drama humanos? suele ser la pregunta que guía mi labor de análisis.

Una vez que he formado una hipótesis final sobre el film —contrastada con otras reseñas y con las intenciones de los creadores de una película— examino mentalmente el film buscando aquellos planos, movimientos de cámara, subrayados musicales, estilos de interpretación, efectos de montaje, vestuario y dirección artística que corroboren o de algún modo sostengan mi interpretación acerca del significado del film. No se trata de “seleccionar” aquellos datos que confirmen que mi interpretación es la buena, sino de mostrar que se trata de una hipótesis plausible. Normalmente, el texto fílmico puede apuntar a algo más allá de él, a algo que la propia película no abarca —venga indicado por la misma obra o venga indicado por defecto—. Una película como La buena estrella no es “religiosa” en un sentido estrecho del término, entre otras cosas, porque hay toda una dimensión trascendente del hombre que no abarca. Pero, desde luego, la insistente mención a la exigencia de contar con una “buena estrella” en la vida y la tristeza de fondo que rodea a los tres personajes principales, habla a gritos de la pequeñez del ser humano, que necesita radicalmente de Otro que le saque de la soledad tanto como saber que su vida tiene sentido. Que incluso con la cantidad de acontecimientos que no controlamos y que nos deterioran, aún exista la posibilidad de ser salvados, rescatados gracias a una buena estrella que nos guía en el camino de la vida.

Se trata, en definitiva, de un criterio eminentemente antropológico y no exclusivamente moral o exclusivamente cinematográfico el que aplico a la hora de escribir crítica de cine, y desde el que intento sonsacar qué visión de lo humano expresa el director o creador de la película en cuestión. Pienso que este es el valor añadido que, como filósofo y cristiano, puedo ofrecer al lector y, además, estoy convencido que esta ha de ser la labor preeminente del crítico de cine católico. Habida cuenta de la reducción a criterios de imagen, técnica, comercialidad o —en el mejor de los casos— esquemas ideológicos con que suele venir adornada la crítica “secular”, sigue siendo de vital importancia que los críticos católicos no tengan miedo a entrar a valorar los temas de fondo que aparecen en prácticamente cualquier película.

Por lo general, los directores de cine suelen tener intenciones muy precisas a la hora de elegir un plano o de resaltar una determinada línea de diálogo. Los mejores artistas no hablan tanto de sí mismos como de la realidad y, con su modo de expresarse, nos ofrecen su comprensión del mundo, fruto de horas de observación y experiencia compartida. Por eso, el mejor servicio que puede ofrecer un crítico de cine es hacer ver a otros lo que ve el filme para iluminar, a través de la película, la realidad de la existencia.





BIOGRAPHY

Juan Pablo Serra (Buenos Aires, 1979) es profesor de Formación Humanística en la Universidad Francisco de Vitoria (Madrid) y de Antropología en la Facultad de Comunicación del Centro Universitario Villanueva (Madrid). Co-autor del libro Pasión de los fuertes (2005), escribe en la revista Pantalla 90, colabora en distintas publicaciones y ha sido miembro de los jurados SIGNIS en Toulousse (2004) y San Sebastián (2005). Sus últimos trabajos publicados sobre cine tienen que ver con la evolución de la obra de Clint Eastwood y con la recuperación del cine alemán contemporáneo.

ETER SHEEHAN AUSTRALIA



THE BLACK BALLOON

Australia, 2008

Directed by Elisa Down

Australian Catholic Film Office (SIGNIS Australia) award, 2008.


SHORT REVIEW


This is a moving and sensitive film about a handicapped young man, Charlie, who is mentally challenged and suffers from autism. He is the focus of a caring and loving family – chaotic and struggling – which is constantly frustrated by his shifting moods, and outrageous behaviour. The human spirit soars above heartbreak in a movie that illustrates the values of compassion, caring and love of a human person that lie behind the SIGNIS and Interfaith awards. The movie’s display of these virtues contrasts with the cruelty of those who would prefer to disparage handicap than face up to its reality. The film is funny at times, always confronting in one way or another, but above all warm in its genuine spirit of tolerance and understanding.


LONG REVIEW

This film premiered at Berlin’s International Film Festival in February, 2008, where it received the award for the best feature–length film in the Generation 14 plus category. It is a first feature length debut for Elissa Down, who directs a semi-autobiographical account of a family’s attempts to cope with the frustrations of caring for Charlie, a severely autistic young man (superbly played by Luke Ford). The film is a story about family, the permanency of love, finding love, growing-up, and disability. It is a moving and thoroughly authentic account of the ups-and-downs, and heartbreaking effects of autism on a chaotic family. Toni Collette plays the role of Charlie’s mother who is ordered to stay in bed to preserve her pregnancy. She gives over the immediate caring of Charlie to her son, Thomas (Rhys Wakefield) who is tested almost in every way by Charlie, his older brother. Thomas’ attraction to a girl friend at school (Gemma Ward) is compromised by Charlie’s behaviour and the relationship between Charlie and Thomas goes astray, and has to be discovered again.

The love of the family members is offset by the cruelty and harshness of the world outside the family, which can’t cope with Charlie’s obvious disabilities. Thomas is made the butt of cruel jokes at school and he has to respond to false preconceptions and attitudes about his mentally handicapped brother. The heart of the movie is displayed, not by authoritative statements or opinions, but by the humanity of those who sensitively show their love for a fellow human being they are committed to, and who is an integral part of their family unit.

This is not a perfect movie in any way. It comes to a heart-warming end that provides convenient closure, and it is a little stereotyped in its treatment of Australian suburbia. But the film offers us a profoundly moving account of caring people whose love for one of their own is tested almost beyond the limit. As a pro-family and pro-disability film, and often unnerving to watch, it stands as a powerful testimony to the fortitude of the human spirit and teaches us many lessons about love and survival.


CRITERIA FOR FILM REVIEWING

The primary criterion for assessing a film is that of “Quality.” This term, however, is an elusive one and represents many components parts. One looks to the adequacy of direction, acting, script, cinematography, art design, music, and production to name just a few of them. The component parts that are essential to my judgement of overall quality are direction and acting. If direction is not tight, sensitive and probing, and the film is poorly acted, then the presence of good cinematography, script, editing, and production, will have considerable trouble in filling the gap.

In judging quality, one must, I think, inevitably take on board the genre, which the film represents. This enhances relativity in the judgement process and allows one to compare the film indirectly with other movies like it, or films with similar aims. The context that surrounds a judgement of particular quality clearly varies as to whether the film achieves high quality in a particular genre; genre provides the context one brings to bear on the judgement of quality, and it can very much differ in terms of whether the film aims for comedy, high adventure, philosophical or introspective reflection about life (or life’s issues), fantasy, or the targeting of adult themes. Assessment of quality changes its character for the kind or type of movie one is considering. Only when genre is considered in relation to the judgement process can one understand the following list of quality films: “Vertigo”, “Fear Eats the Soul”, “2001: A Space Odyssey”, “The Conversation”, “A Night at the Opera”, “Gone with the Wind”, “Witness”, “The Lord of the Rings “, “Man of Flowers”, “Wake in Fright”, “Dr. No”, “The Seventh Seal”, “Citizen Kane”, “The Wages of Fear”, “Hunger”, “Some like it Hot”, “Deliverance”, “The Exterminating Angel”, “Blue Velvet”, “The Graduate”, “Klass”, and “Don’t Look Now”. This list illustrates films across different genres, and each film that is mentioned in the list (which is not exhaustive) merits, I believe, a judgement of high quality.

For film criticism of any kind, there are always natural preconceptions, biases, or suppositions on the reviewer’s part. This statement is a truism for everyone; no-one is immune from personal preconceptions when assessing subjectively the quality of a film, or book, or other artistic product. Good film criticism should not obscure what those prejudices might be, and should recognise when judgements about quality are being affected by them. The best of film criticism should convey some awareness of what preconceptions exist that might affect the judgement of quality that is being expressed. A judgement of quality is inherently subjective, not objective. However, the criteria for film criticism should be applied as objectively as possible.

Films may deal with positive or negative issues. Films that excel are those that leave one with a very meaningful experience of a better, or different understanding of some aspect of the human condition. A film carries a distorted message if it is inherently prejudicial or projects malice at its core. In talking about the human condition, however, there is enormous scope for the display of human frailty and inconsistency, and many excellent movies are about human weakness. Many outstanding movies also depict a bleak and dark view of human nature, and many illustrate that darkness superbly. A film may be about war, abuse, savagery, unendurable stress, or about the pursuit of happiness, whimsy, or joy. But quality-films ideally should be able to demonstrate an increment in our understanding and appreciation of the meaning of a human, social, or cultural problem or issue in any of these contexts; and the movie’s striving toward resolution should ideally be accompanied by subjective recognition on the reviewer’s part of ways in which his or her experience, and others’ experience, may be affected.

Ultimately, one looks for quality in a film that points the way forward, or provides a deeper meaning, or a message about what one does to avoid not being able to achieve that kind of an advance. In the final analysis, quality movies are always internalised in their effects. If they have impact, they are movies that affect us, arouse our emotions, make us think, and move us forward cognitively and emotionally in some way. It is transparently obvious when the values in a film that lacks quality are displayed falsely, or are projected in a pretentious or superficial way. Values must ring authentically true for the Director, they must be communicated either implicitly or explicitly in the film, and they must be reflected in the acting.

There is a real challenge for a reviewer to define the criteria, when he or she comes out of the cinema, and chooses to describe a film as “magnificent”. It is hard to generalise in this category, but when I use this term (and it is to be used sparingly) I look for taut, intelligent direction, evidence of high energy and expertise in the film’s production and direction, excellent cinematography, and outstanding acting; and such a movie has to aim for effects that are creatively different or distinct in definable ways. Movies at this level of quality must also achieve total integrity and bring their component parts together into an artistic or aesthetic whole. Magnificent films leave you profoundly affected and inspired as a result of seeing them, and they should stand the test of time.




BIOGRAPHY

PETER SHEEHAN graduated from the University of Sydney, Australia, with a PhD in Psychology in 1965. He has been on the staff at many Universities, that include The City University of the City of New York, The University of Queensland (Australia), and the Australian Catholic University. In this last position, he served as the University’s Vice-Chancellor? for ten years from 1998 - 2008.

He has held the office of President of the Academy of the Social Sciences in Australia (1991-1993), and was Deputy Chair and then Chair (1986-1987) of the Australian Cinematographic Films Board of Review. The Films Board of Review is responsible for final determination of the classification of cinema films in Australia, following appeals on censorship ratings.
He was Member of the Australian Broadcasting Tribunal’s National Inquiry into Violence on Television, and has served as a SIGNIS member for the Brisbane International Film Festival's Interfaith Jury, and the Festroia International Film Festival's SIGNIS Jury, Setubal, Portugal. Currently, he is Chair of the Queensland Catholic Education Commission, and Associate of the National Catholic Office for Film and Broadcasting.

JACOB SRAMPICKAL




36 CHOWRINGHEE LANE


India, 1981, director, Aparna Sen.


SHORT REVIEW

36 Chowringhee Lane captures the anguish of the lonely. It is a deeply moving human document as it unravels how today’s younger generation, solely interested in themselves, can make use of old lonely people for their own purposes. The film, set in post-independent Calcutta, studies the case of Anglo-Indians? in India, an isolated group left behind by the British, but the problem it studies, that of taking advantage of helpless people, is universal and touches any one with a conscience. Made by first time director Aparna Sen, a celebrated actress, the film tells the story of Violet Stoneham, an aging teacher of Shakespeare’s plays in an English medium school in Calcutta. As she is demoted to teach grammar, she sees her worthlessness increasing, but she finds herself very useful by lending her home to a young couple to study while she is at the school. But they in fact, were desperately seeking a private place to make love. Later she realizes that their friendship was only for the time being and that they are totally selfish, as they cleverly avoid inviting her to their marriage party after Christmas.

LONG REVIEW

36 Chowringhee Lane is based on actress Aparna Sen’s own story and script. The film tells the story of an ageing and lonely school teacher, Miss Violet Stoneham. She is an Anglo- Indian, a sub-colonial class the British left behind in India. She lives alone in an apartment whose postal address defines the title of the film. After the marriage of her niece, Rosemary, who left for Australia, she lives a lonely life with only a tom cat, named Toby Belch, for company. In school, she shares a somewhat warm friendship with Wendy Mc Gowen and survives the social estrangement from the Bengali ethos and refuses to go away to Australia, although her niece insists that she has nothing to do in India. She has her brother in the old people’s home, whom she visits once in a while.

Much of the film has to do with Stoneham being an Anglo-Indian? per se, as much as it has to do with her sense of marginalization in a soil she has grown up to love as her own. It also has to do with her school teaching vocation, where she finds herself isolated and alienated from the mainstream teaching staff, where Anglo-Indian? teachers are being replaced by Indian substitutes. The subject that she taught to higher classes – Shakespeare – is taken away from her and she is relegated to teaching grammar to lower classes. The loneliness and the isolation of her single life, dotted by occasional nightmares, takes a reverse turn one day. She is thrilled when a former student, Nandita Roy, looks her up and also brings her boyfriend, Samaresh Moitra, to her flat. Samaresh is an author and likes the solitude of Violet's flat, and would like to write his new novel there, to which Violet readily agrees to. He likes her antique record-player and she gives it to him as a gift for their marriage. She hopes she has become part of a family again. It is Christmas time and Violet likes to visit Nandita and Samaresh. But they think she would be a fish out of water and tell her they would be out of station. However, she visits them with a cake she baked and is surprised to see that she is not wanted at the party they had organized. She feels the desperation of loneliness and the emptiness of being made use of.

The film’s strength lies very much in the simplicity of the narration with a couple of flashbacks. Running for 108 minutes, the film captures a whole world, that of the lonely lives of a family of Anglo-Indians? and their love for India, which is rejected by the young generation of Indians who are very much globalized in nature and selfish to the core.
In the final frames as an abandoned and desolate Miss Stoneham sits by the roadside at midnight, with the cake in tow, and a street dog trying to nibble at it, the sound track echoes King Lear’s wail from the hearth “Pray do not mock at me, I am a wretched old man, forlorn and forsaken….” one wonders what crime t this poor woman has done that she is made to suffer such anguish; and conscientious viewers feel the strength of the narrative and its communicative power strongly.

CRITERIA FOR REVIEWING

36 Chowringhee Lane – a tale of people left on the roadside

Aparna Sen’s 36 Chowringhee Lane (1981) is a remarkable first film, that deserves everyone’s attention as it highlights an important aspect of life – loneliness and isolation suffered by elderly people, and how selfish young people take advantage of such desolate people.

Content Analysis

36 Chowringhee Lane is one of a handful of Indian films portraying the life and culture of a fast-dwindling minority community, the Anglo-Indians?. The text is an engrossing study of the cultural 'outsider' – a theme that has received artistic attention all over the world in this age of migration and globalization. In the film, the faint, distant values of a Western civilization, part of the legacy of colonialism in India, are today wrapped up in one significant tradition – the tradition of the English language. Though it focusses on a specific individual’s plight, the theme is universal.

The film very subtly admonishes the selfish and asks them to consider why they make use of other helpless, hapless people for personal interests. The film reflects sharply the ‘use and throw’ mentality sponsored by the consumer culture, where, once the use is over, products are thrown away. Human beings too are considered things in this culture. Loneliness, marginalization and isolation are specific phenomena of the post-modern age and in the process humans, especially the old and the weak ones lose their moorings.

Artistic Merits

1. Script and the narrative structure

Being a Christian story, Christmas-to-Christmas? is chosen as the time frame of the film, which. also acts as a leitmotiv, on may find a Christ image in the main protagonist. Though the actual time-span of the film covers one year, the narrative is telescopic, moving back and forth into the past and the present. At times, past and present fuse together. In the closing shots, the visuals are in the present while the soundtrack – letters written by Stoneham to Rosemary in Australia, are in the past. There are forays into a more remote past in the nightmare scene where Stoneham is a young girl betrothed to another Anglo- Indian, James Mac Kenzie. Her unfulfilled love for the James who died in the war and now in the cemetery, and her eternal virgin life tied to the school children she loves, but do not care for her, her brother who lives in the old people’s home are all that keep her occupied.

Traditions emerge from linguistic foundations, too. One can distinguish a duality in the use of language: the English language as a fake tradition, and the Bengali (or Indian) language, within which lies the actual psychological compulsions of a people. The 'outsider' and the 'insider' are thus joined together within the cultural frame work of language. In terms of speech patterns and language, Stoneham, Rosemary and Mrs.Mc Gowen are 'outsiders.' They speak solely in English, and at times using broken and heavy, English-accented Hindi. Notice they do not speak Bengali, the local language but a broken mainstream Hindi, when they have to. Among themselves, they speak English, the language of the ‘minority’ in Bengal. It is also a 'colonial' language that the majority of 'insiders' do not much care for, except for the likes of Nandita and Samaresh, the neo-colonized.
Besides, the emphasis on minimum dialogue and more visuals to tell an eloquent story is a rare feat in Indian films. The use of Shakesperean allegories in the script like Sir Toby — the cat from Twelfth Night-- King Lear etc add natural touches as she teaches Shakespeare.

Miss Stoneham’s collection of gramophone records of old English songs is an example of her failure to identify with the Indian-Bengali? 'insider.' And these attarct Samaresh as he prides in writing poetry in English.

Though she never speaks of it, Miss Stoneham is desperate for companionship and relationship. She was not aware of this desperation, until the couple stepped into her monotonous day-to-day routine. When she discovers them kissing in her apartment, she realizes the true motive of their regular rendezvous, and acknowledges it without comment.

A scene I can’t forget, is where Miss Stoneham visits her brother in the old people’s home. She is frightened by the sight of an old lady climbing up the stairs towards her, as she is about to climb down. The old lady is perfectly harmless but Stoneham is seemingly terrified of anyone who reminds her of old age, disability and death. As the old lady comes closer, her face begins to appear distorted and macabre to Stoneham. With a stifled cry, she rushes past the old lady and disappears around the last bend.
The close-up of the wheels of a slowly moving man-pulled rickshaw, backed up by a sound track of hard iron roughing out against stone is disturbing and so is Stoneham’s life, slow, tiring and eking life out of daily boredom.

2. Acting

Jennifer Kendall, an aging theatre actress who had done bit parts in films was probably the best suited to play Miss Violet Stoneham. The others too especially, Geoffrey Kendall, her real life father, who acts as her brother, were well cast and so they perform to perfection.

3. Photography

Lingering shadows, shades of various colours are permamant motifs, collecting in elements of the fading past, nostalgia.etc. Lingering deep ambers, rusts and browns dominate the environment of Miss Stoneham - her apartment, the home for the aged, to infuse the scenes with signs of a fading present and a nostalgic past, suggesting old age and loneliness. Ashok Mehta’s brilliant and evocative camerawork gives the lines on Miss Stoneham’s face the right dose of light and shade to add a whole range of expressions and dimension to it - when she is sad, when she wakes up in cold sweat from the nightmare, when she is laughing away at the hypocrisy of Nandita’s marriage rituals, etc. The carefully orchestrated nightmare sequence appears like a watercolour painting whose colours have gone away .

4. Music

Soft-driven Victorian music underplaying a reluctant Stoneham, and an occasional vibrant Bengali folk add to interpreting Stoneham’s sense of loneliness. The use of sound-tracks from the distant past to evoke nostalgia about Stoneham’s past works quite well with a film literate audience. Often music has been used suggestively more than just playing a functional role.

5. Sets, Costumes \ Makeup

Carefully created Caluctta streets and winding by-lanes on which Stoneham’s man-pulled rickshaw moves on, strikes one instantly as these are studio creations. Again Stoneham’s bed room givng the finest details surprises one. The interior of Miss Stoneham’s flat spells out the story of its tenant – the upholstery is threadbare, the blackened cooking pans in her tiny kitchenette, that hidden bottle of wine she brings out to celebrate Samaresh’s brand new job, and the gramophone with the old records and the brass horn--all have a story to tell.. The lift which is often out of order, the power cuts that add intensity to a lonely life have been well integrated into the design of the film.
Stoneham’s way of dressing is strictly Victorian, long, loose, frocks that hide her frame more cleverly than an Indian sari would have.

6. Editorial Touches

The film edited to the length of a normal English film is very un-indian and it is in English meant for an high class audience. In fact, it is difficult to find a an India film so tightly edited. Only what is needed is in the film, nothing extravagant. The dim-lit corners of Miss Stoneham’s flat are counter-posed against the brightly lit luxury of Nandita’s plush bungalow. Sen often seeks to truncate a particular shot before it yields a definite interpretation in order to create the non-significant image that transforms itself on contact with other images, creating a rhythm where the image or form acts as a substitute for, rather than the vehicle of thought. The juxtaposing of the flash backs and the silhouetted images to tell a lost era have been cut into perfect sounds and images to narrate the story with ample suspense.

7. Directorial Touches

Sen’s attention to minute details of sound, silence, light, darkness and atmosphere enriches the tapestry of the film and reveals facets of the Stoneham character more eloquently than words could have done. Miss Stoneham’s disciplined, convent-like upbringing is shown through her use of a letter-opener to open letters, the way she pours milk to her cat etc. Fading snapshots of Eddie and Rosemary adorn the side table, suggesting memories of an era lived in joy. Stoneham’s Victorian morals come across when she coyly hides her underwear so Samaresh shouldn’t see them. And her silent acceptance of the couple making love in her apartment without showing any apprehension, although she would have liked to react, shows, she understands young people. Her bargaining with the fishmonger in the market to come away with the cheaper variety is an indication of her meagre financial resources. Sen reveals her growing emotional involvement with the young lovers through a collage of suggestions – she forgets to visit Eddie on a Thursday because she is busy gallivanting around with Nandita and Samaresh. Rosemary’s letter, once pored over with affection, now flies away in the breeze. A drop of ice cream falls on one of her students’ exercise books wiping out the name of the girl on the label.

Sen’s first film as director is clearly, a grammar book film, done to perfection with many copybook styles from master craftsmen world over. The phonograph serves as a motif, reminding one of an age gone by – an age, which was, perhaps one of caring, and of respect for the old and the infirm and one in which the young had a greater sense of relatednes. It suggests a nostalgic yearning for the past. Probably one can argue from a cinematic point of view that its changed positioning in the two settings – in Miss Stoneham’s home and in Nandita’s new bungalow – offers a perception of a changing reality in which the old and the new have become irreconcilable. Sen also uses masterfully photographs in Stoneham’s life pointing to her life lived in memories.



BIOGRAPHY

Jacob Srampickal, SJ, has a doctorate in Development Communication from the University of Leeds, England, and has authored several books including: Understanding Communication (1982), Voice to the Voiceless, Power of People’s Theatre (1994), Babel to Babri Masjid and Beyond (2003), Cross Connections: Interdisciplinary communication studies(2005), Understanding Development Communication (2007) etc. He has reviewed Indian films for 6 years for prominent periodicals in India. President of Unda\OCIC, (now SIGNIS), the international communication association of the Church in India (1992-98) and in Asia (1993-2001), he was the inspiration behind and the co-founder of the National Institute of Social Communications, Research and Training (NISCORT) of the Catholic Bishops’ Conference of India in New Delhi, and he is presently the Director of the Communications Programme at the Pontifical Gregorian University in Rome. His areas of interest include: Media-Religion-Culture?, Media Ethics, Development Communication, Media Education, Pastoral Communication.

Sadly, Jacob died, aged 62, in 2012.

PAUL STENHOUSE AUSTRALIA




THE YEAR OF LIVING DANGEROUSLY
Australia, 1982.
Mel Gibson, Linda Hunt, Sigourney Weaver, Bill Kerr, Noel Ferrier, Michael Murphy.
Directed by Peter Weir

SHORT REVIEW

The star of Peter Weir’s The Year of Living Dangerously, filmed in the Philippines and Australia, is Linda Hunt, a stage actress who plays Billy Kwan, an Australian- Chinese photographer who befriends Guy Hamilton (Mel Gibson) a naïve Australian reporter in his first overseas posting. Billy is the common thread of humanity running through a beautifully told but menacing tale of poverty, political power-play and opportunism set in Sukarno’s Indonesia in 1965. He is the link between the main players. His fate symbolises that of Sukarno and the Communists (PKI). Weir’s direction is masterly. Signourney Weaver co-stars, as does Noel Ferrier.


LONG REVIEW

The Year of Living Dangerously (1982) is a very Australian film. The novel on which it is based was written by Christopher Koch, and the screen-play was jointly the work of Koch, Peter Weir, and David Williamson. It was filmed in Australia and in the Philippines, and it featured well-known Australian actors. The action all takes place in Indonesia, Australia’s closest neighbour, with whose independence Australia was much involved after World War II, and with whose people Australia has always felt close.

Indonesia’s human misery and natural beauty, as well as its complex and cosmopolitan political scene centred on the Sukarno regime in 1965, are the backdrop against which Weir’s intriguing version of Indonesian political shadow puppetry is played.

It is usually described as a romantic thriller because young Australian correspondent Guy Hamilton (Mel Gibson) on his first posting overseas becomes infatuated with Jill Bryant (Sigourney Weaver) who works in the British Embassy in Jakarta. It is that, and much more.

The sense of brooding menace that Weir visually creates – many scenes are shot in near darkness – is reflected in the obstacles one still encounters in attempting to discover what really happened in Indonesia in October 1965. One wishes that for all his infuriating ambiguity of character Guy Hamilton was still around, prone to risk-taking as ever, and not willing to let a good story go untold.

When Guy arrives he is befriended by Billy Kwan (Linda Hunt who won the Best Supporting Actress Oscar for her performance), a part-Chinese photographer who is a dwarf, playing Everyman in this Mystery Play about the Good, the Confused, and the Evil. Billy seems to hold most of the cards – knowing (and having a file on) most of the major players in the cast, including the head of the Communist Party (PKI), highly placed Army officers, and members of the Foreign Correspondents Club as well as the Diplomatic Corps.

Of all the ‘expats’ it is Billy who gives the lie to the comment made to Hamilton by his assistant Kumar (Bembol Rocco) who was PKI: ‘Westerners don’t have answers anymore’. Because of Billy, Guy may have learnt something not many of his fellow foreign-correspondents seemed to understand: ‘they are also responsible who are indifferent as people die, and carefully take photographs or file reports’. Scenes of executions as Guy was heading for the airport and safety were a sombre reminder of the untold thousands who were massacred at the end of The Year of Living Dangerously.


CRITERIA FOR FILM REVIEWING
 
It is refreshing to be asked for ‘the criteria you use’ in judging a movie. No one doubts that protocols, principles, criteria and laws must be followed in maths and science, but these days one is more likely to hear something like, ‘Hey, man! What have rules and criteria got to do with the “Arts”?’

Criteria are standards, rules, principles, laws of a kind and protocols according to which we measure or evaluate whatever it is we are judging. So our indignant 21st century protester is not wrong in thinking that appealing to them poses some threat to random, whim-filled, ‘value-free’ artistic expression. Whether or not critics or those in the industry, are comfortable with this, critics are evaluators, weighers, measurers. And usually, to be fair to the reader who – if wise – is going to have to evaluate the evaluation, critics should give some indication of the measure they are using. And why.

It is stating the obvious to say that criticism – whether of film, art, music or literature – in our relativistic society, is a hazardous occupation. Critics themselves come in for a lot of criticism. Much of it personal and rarely objective.

Critics can flounder about in a relativistic world of art and culture, where we are conscious of almost drowning along with our – often subjective – standards in the political correctness of mercurial artistic ‘values’. We find ourselves bedazzled by the multiplicity of angles from which we can judge a work.

Before coming to criteria, at least three areas principally interest this critic:
1. Technique: Whatever else one may say, the majority of main-stream films these days is competently made. High quality professional movie-making techniques, with all their technical subtleties and infinitesimal variations, are a ‘given’. It is usually a question of a Director’s doing ‘better,’ of pushing expertise beyond limits, than of doing merely ‘well’. Most directors have no excuse for poor lighting, camera-work, sets or special effects – because skilled technicians who can supply these are readily available: provided you have the money.

2. The viewer has a right to know what the Director intends the film to be and say. A youngish female TV producer was being interviewed on radio not long ago and the interviewer commented that the programmes she produced bore out the adage that ‘art reflects life’. ‘Not at all,’ she retorted, ‘I make them because I want life to reflect my art’.

What the movie appears to be saying about politics, religion, individuals, values, morality, is probably what it is saying; and what the Director wants the viewer to believe and take away from the screening. Films are seldom just entertainment. They can be propaganda tools, social engineering devices and marketing exercises. International and domestic political and economic power brokers and lobby groups all take a keen interest in the medium. Not all religious or social groups that employ film as a promotional vehicle, are benign.

3. The effect on the viewer. This follows from 2. Not all viewers are mature. Not all are well-educated, with well-honed critical faculties that will protect them from assaults on their minds and beliefs. If movies had no effect on viewers, they would not be made, though the contrary is still asserted by some child-psychologists. Richard Brinsley Sheridan, commenting on lending libraries, begs to differ. His words apply also and especially to modern cinema and the internet:

‘Madam, a circulating library in a town is as an evergreen tree of diabolical knowledge: it blossoms throughout the year, and depend upon it … they who are so fond of handling the leaves will long for the fruit at last.’1

There are pharmaceutical standards, and standards for storing and preparing food. Testing how healthy or toxic the cinema ‘fruit’ is can be an onerous task.

As the writer is a Catholic priest, he cheerfully declares this up front. St Augustine tells us that ‘faith has eyes’2; and St Paul tells us that ‘reason’ too ‘has eyes’3. Bearing that in mind, when I see a film, whether for review, or simply for enlightenment or entertainment, I take my three sets of eyes along to the screening, and compare their findings.

Each of these separate ‘senses’ has criteria special to itself which enable an overall evaluation to be made that should be fair, reasonable, and above all open and honest about the work that is being evaluated. Faith measures the movie against criteria described in detail by St Paul in Galatians 5,22. Reason seeks truth, intelligibility and logic in the movie, especially in what it claims to be and do, and what it actually is and does. The human eye looks for the aesthetically satisfying, and judges the skill and cunning with which the movie achieves its aim. The evaluations of all three ‘eyes’ are harmonised so that a balanced critique can be given. No one expects a non-believing or irreligious Director to satisfy the demands of faith, though if these are not met, the reader has a right to know. Reason, however, can make legitimate demands upon the Director; as can aesthetics.

Movie-making technology is progressing so fast that film is relying less on skilled actors to get across its message. Digitalised, computer-generated characters and special effects, abound. We are witnessing the merging and mutation of visual media: film, internet and computer. Electronic games, and hand-held computers with access to the internet have invaded homes and class-rooms. The demise of movie studios is not inconceivable – with the consequent spectre of low-budget and potentially poor quality ‘films’ distributed over the internet with almost limitless access to world markets. In this situation humanity will have even greater need of informed and courageous critics of the visual media who will put their skills at the disposal of the community, and point the way forward for an artistic medium whose potential for good remains largely untapped.

1 Richard Brinsley Sheridan, The Rivals 1775.
2 Epistola cxx Migne PL vol.xxxiii col.456, 8: ‘Habet namque fides oculos suos’.
3 Ephesians 1,18: ‘the eyes of your understanding’.



BIOGRAPHY

Paul Stenhouse is a Catholic priest-journalist, belonging to the Congregation of the Missionaries of the Sacred Heart of Issoudun, France. His doctoral thesis presented to Sydney University was a critical edition of the Kitab al-Tarikh by the 14th century Samaritan priest Abu ‘l-Fath. A foundation member, and a member of the Council of the Société d’Études Samaritaines within the College de France, and a member of the New York Academy of Sciences, he has delivered papers at Colloquia organised by the Société in Paris, Tel Aviv and Jerusalem, Oxford, Venice, Helsinki and Budapest. He is the author of numerous monographs on Middle Arabic Grammar, and various aspects of Samaritan and Falasha history, chronology and religion. He is editor of Annals Australasia, and a Fellow of St John’s College, Sydney University.

MARJORIE SUCHOCKI





BABEL

2006, Director, Aleyandro Inarritu.
Cannes, 2006, Ecumenical Prize.



SHORT REVIEW


Babel draws us into multinational and multiracial stories in Morocco, Japan, the United States, and Mexico. As the apparently separate stories unfold, connections between them reveal the intensely interwoven web of our contemporary world. A random act in one place affects events in another; these, in turn, have further repercussions, which likewise yield effects, ad infinitum. “Babel” refers to the confusion of languages in Genesis 9; the cumulative problems within the film’s stories are each intensified by barriers to communication—national, cultural, and interpersonal. Resolutions come only by breaking through the barriers, touching one another through multiple forms of communication.


LONG REVIEW


Babel draws us into multinational and multiracial stories in Morocco, Japan, the United States, and Mexico. Echoing the biblical story of the confusion of languages at Babel, the film relentlessly takes us into the small and great tragedies that follow upon our inability to communicate with one another. As four separate stories unfold, connections between them reveal the interwoven web of our contemporary world.

In a random act in rural Morocco, a boy plays target practice with a gun intended for protecting sheep. He hits a tour bus, seriously wounding an American woman, delaying her return with her husband to America. The couple had taken the trip in an effort to save their troubled marriage. They call America to ask the Mexican-born caretaker to stay with their children longer—but the Mexican woman’s son is being married in Mexico. Unable to find a substitute to care for the children, she takes them with her. Upon attempting to return, problems arise.

A fourth story set in Japan interweaves its way into the complications raised through the first three, although the film does not give the connection until late in the film. A troubled girl longs for connection, seeking it through risky behaviors. Slowly we learn that her mother committed suicide. The police have come to the apartment with a question for the girl’s father.

The film’s central theme of communication and its failure is particularly embodied in the Japanese teen-ager, who is deaf. But there are many forms of deafness: the American tourists must trust villagers whom they cannot understand for first aid—nor do the villagers trust the Americans. The shooting sets off an international incident, escalating tensions between Morocco and the United States; neither government trusts or understands the other. Moroccan police disbelieve the man who sold the gun to the boy’s father. In Mexico the children are frightened and fascinated by wedding customs they do not understand. At the American/Mexican border, the U.S. police refuse to accept the woman’s story. And in Japan, the teenager’s need for connection meets rebuffs, until resolution comes.

And resolutions do come, but they cannot undo all the damage that comes from failure to understand one another. By using the Biblical story of the confusion of tongues as its central metaphor, the film seems to seek resolution through the story of Pentecost, where differences of language remain, but communication and understanding are possible.


CRITERIA FOR REVIEWING


I am a theologian who has spent much of my professional career probing the problem of evil. My interests have not been those of theodicy, which seeks to reconcile the goodness of God with a creation containing much unnecessary evil. Rather, my focus has been the question of evil itself—what is it? Why do we do it? What forms of resolution exist? I have written a number of books dealing with these topics.

Perhaps it’s not surprising, then, that in my work with film I am deeply interested in how the director poses the problematic aspects of human existence. Evil is a hydra-headed monster with many faces, some intense and others banal; some raw and open, others minor and heavily interwoven with good. In exploring our humanity through film, the director unveils some of these faces, showing us ourselves in all our complexity. Usually the director will offer some form of resolution to the particular problem he or she has probed. Are there elements of transcendent goodness in this resolution? Using the central Christian metaphor of crucifixion/resurrection, has good been able to arise out of evil? Or is it the case that there is no resolution within the film? Throughout, of course, I am interested in the dialogue between theology and film. In some ways, there are parallels between what a theologian seeks to do through words, and what a director seeks to do through camera, lighting, sets, and dramatic action. Both are exploring the human condition, setting out its problems, suggesting resolutions. Through the power of art, film can inform theology. Thus in my book, Sin and Cinema: Violence and Resolution in Film and Theology, I study film for theological insight.

But writing reviews of films is not at all the same as writing theology about films. Most of my reviews are written for a small quarterly journal, Creative Transformation, whose circulation is primarily among clergy and laity within the progressive Protestant tradition. The journal is published by an organization called Process & Faith, which is itself a program of the Center for Process Studies located at Claremont School of Theology in Claremont, California. The purpose of the Center, and therefore the journal, is to promote relational ways of thinking and living in our interdependent world.

Readers of Creative Transformation would be particularly interested in a film like Babel because it highlights our interdependence, calling for communication and understanding. But they would also want to know if forms of creative transformation occur, so writing about the film for these readers must give attention to the renewals of relationship within the film. The film’s realism must also be reckoned with: not all the evils we inflict upon one another are easily overcome; some damage is permanent. What, then, is the response of faith? The role of the reader, the viewer, and the reviewer, is to lift the questions, and seek to become part of the answers through compassionate living.



BIOGRAPHY

Marjorie Hewitt Suchocki (born 1933) is an author and United Methodist professor emerita of theology at Claremont School of Theology. She is also co-director of the Center for Process Studies at Claremont.

Suchocki earned a BA in Philosophy from Pomona College in 1970, and both MA and PhD in religion from Claremont Graduate School in 1974. She taught at Pittsburgh Theological Seminary from 1977 to 1983. From 1983 to 1990 she was professor of systematic theology and dean of Wesley Theological Seminary. In 1990 Suchocki returned to Claremont School of Theology, where she held the endowed Ingraham chair in theology and joint appointment at the Claremont Graduate School until her retirement in 2002. She has held visiting professorships at Vanderbilt University in 1996 and 1999, and at the Ruprecht Karl University of Heidelberg in Heidelberg, Germany in 1992.

Since 2001 Suchocki has been director of the Whitehead International Film Festival. She is considered along with John B. Cobb and David Ray Griffin as one of the leaders in the field of process theology.

DAVID TLAPEK





IN THE VALLEY OF ELAH

Director, Paul Haggis, 2007.
SIGNIS Prize, Venice, 2007.



SHORT REVIEW

Were writer/director Paul Haggis’ In the Valley of Elah merely an indictment of U.S. Iraq policy, it could be regarded as petty and arrogant. As an illustration of the irrational, hellish realities of war, and the moral conundrum war generates, Haggis’ film is effective and affecting. Technically sound, with a first-rate cast and well-constructed narrative, the film unfolds at a gentle pace, generates occasional moments of suspense and maintains strong emotional cadence throughout. Intense violence is readily implied, yet judiciously presented on screen. Challenging subject matter well depicted, quality viewing, worthy of discussion and reflection.


LONG REVIEW

Few targets are more easily decried than an unpopular war, especially when that war is still being waged. Were writer/director Paul Haggis’ In the Valley of Elah merely an indictment of U.S. policy in Iraq, it could be regarded as petty and arrogant. As a broader illustration of the irrational, hellish realities of war, and the moral conundrum war generates, Haggis’ film is challenging, affecting, and worthy of discussion and reflection.

Excepting a lethargic yet forgivable musical score, technical credentials are solid. The editing is smart and crisp, with hardly a misstep. The narrative unfolds at a gentle pace, generates occasional moments of suspense and carries emotional cadence throughout.

The intriguing title derives from the story of David and Goliath, Elah having been the valley in which the two waged their brief, decisive confrontation. In that story, of course, David emerges victorious. In Haggis’ film the outcome of one man’s confrontation with the ‘Goliath’ of military bureaucracy is less satisfactory. Tommy Lee Jones portrays that one man, a military retiree, searching for his son. The son, also a soldier (part of the family pedigree), recently returned from active duty in Iraq and inexplicably went missing. Charlize Theron portrays a police detective who befriends the protagonist and aids his inquiry; and the two of them develop a mutual fondness born of mutual respect.

The cast is top notch all around, while Jones’ brilliant performance is the film’s emotional and thematic touchstone, its grounding mechanism. Through his character we see how long held perceptions and priorities can be jolted from synchrony, how that which we hold dear can be consumed by dark forces we thought we understood and could contain.

The film’s narrative bookends are two scenes that depict the raising of an American flag. In the beginning, Jones’ character instructs a Salvadoran immigrant on the proper way to raise the flag, while stressing the flag’s symbolic significance. At film’s end his character hoists a different American flag, this one tattered and faded, up the same flagpole, with the same immigrant standing by; though the latter scene feels predictable and obligatory, it illustrates the protagonist’s personal anguish, his losing faith in a belief system that had informed so much of his life. The outcome of his battle with ‘Goliath’ is not victorious or decisive; rather it leaves him to wander and wonder in a world that suddenly makes less sense, if it makes sense at all.


CRITERIA FOR REVIEWING

My approach to reviewing a film is taken in prioritized steps. I consider the film’s soundness of craftsmanship, how well is it executed in the technical and artistic craft elements? If it doesn’t pass this test, then I may still explore other elements such as theme and narrative; but the film will not get my hearty recommendation, nor would I consider it worthy of awards of merit. I look to the film’s narrative. Does it present a story worth telling, and does it tell that story well? Is the narrative well constructed, cohesive and effectively realized on the screen? I consider the film’s thematic, the underlying message that grounds everything else. How well is that thematic considered and presented, and to what effect? Depending on the audience for whom I’m writing, I may also consider how the film’s thematic underpinning interacts with my journey of faith and moral priorities. Finally, I may consider the film’s level of integrity in binding its narrative and thematic underpinning. Examining this integrity and integration is, I believe, a higher level of criticism, highly contextual, and more taxing for a reviewer to accomplish.

I do not typically approach film reviewing by way of some overarching theory of criticism, and do so only to the extent that, again, I may feel invited to because of the audience for whom I am writing. An example would stem from my participation on the SIGNIS jury at the 2006 Berlinale and our awarding of honors to three films in various festival competitions. Subsequent to the festival, I wrote an article, which included mini-reviews of the films we had designated as SIGNIS awardees. Since I wrote my article to be published by SIGNIS, my mini-reviews considered the films in light of the SIGNIS criteria that we had utilized during the festival. Maintaining such consistency seemed appropriate, so I followed that path. In a different circumstance, I may well have reviewed the films from a slightly different perspective, focusing on different thematic and filmic craft elements and less on the criteria that I had here employed.




BIOGRAPHY

David Tlapek wrote, produced and directed "Divining the Human," an award-winning documentary about the artwork created for the Cathedral of Our Lady of the Angels in downtown Los Angeles. David's previous documentary film, "The Hidden Gift: War and Faith in Sudan," was influential in the movement toward a peace settlement in Sudan's civil war and has been an effective fund-raising tool for relief efforts in Sudan. David has taught at numerous venues, including Loyola Marymount University and the Religious Education Congress in Anaheim, California. He served on the Executive Committee of the City of the Angels Film Festival and on the Board of Directors of Catholics in Media Associates; and he was a member of the Ecumenical Jury at the 2006 Berlin International Film Festival. David currently lives and works as a writer/filmmaker in London, England.

MARCO VANELLI




IL TETTO/ THE ROOF

Italy, 1956, Directed by Vittorio de Sica.

Cannes, OCIC Prize, 1956.


SHORT REVIEW


Il tetto è un bellissimo film che ha avuto poca fortuna. Con la sua leggerezza tipica, De Sica mostra un nuovo capitolo del vangelo incarnato nel mondo d’oggi, dove il Cristo assume il volto di due giovani sposi poveri in cerca di un tetto sotto il quale formare una famiglia. L’ Italia intorno non è più quella del dopoguerra: nuovi palazzi sorgono ovunque e il “miracolo economico” si fa strada. Ma i due protagonisti vivono un sogno diverso, che alla fine si realizzerà perché la loro casa abusiva verrà costruita sulla roccia dell’amore e della solidarietà e non sulla sabbia della corsa alla facile ricchezza che sta contagiando la nazione.


LONG REVIEW


Il tetto è uno dei capolavori meno conosciuti di Vittorio De Sica. Eppure si tratta di un’opera a cui il regista teneva molto, l’ultima della grande stagione del Neorealismo, prima che prevalessero in lui le logiche produttive e professionali rispetto alle esigenze poetiche e artistiche. Il tetto non piacque né al pubblico né ai critici. Unica eccezione nel disinteresse generale fu il premio Ocic assegnato nel 1956 a Cannes, ampiamente segnalato nei manifesti sperando, forse, di smuovere gli spettatori delle sale cattoliche.
Il racconto inizia con una bandiera italiana che sventola sul tetto di una casa in costruzione. Si tratta di un’usanza tipicamente nostrana: quando i muratori terminano un’abitazione, mettono la bandiera sul tetto come segnale di augurio per la nuova casa. L’ultima immagine mostra invece un altro tetto, questa volta non terminato, fatto abusivamente, di notte, per evitare il controllo dei poliziotti. Un raggio di sole lo attraversa: è un segno di speranza e di solidarietà.

In mezzo tra queste due inquadrature sta la storia di Natale e Luisa, due giovani sposi che vorrebbero vivere in una casa tutta per loro. Ma sono poveri, e nonostante che l’Italia attorno si stia trasformando grazie al “boom economico”, i due non hanno le possibilità per partecipare a questo benessere diffuso. La cinepresa li segue, nel loro peregrinare da un luogo all’altro, come in un Calvario aggiornato, secondo la sensibilità di tutta la scuola neorealista che vedeva nell’uomo disperato del secondo dopoguerra un’icona del Servo Sofferente. Troppo spesso di quei film furono fatte letture esclusivamente sociologiche e politiche; c’era invece un sottofondo profondamente religioso che si rivela a chi sa guardare le immagini nitide e realiste con un occhio che penetri oltre l’apparenza e sa riconoscere il paradigma cristiano con cui gli autori neorealisti leggevano il loro tempo.

A differenza dei ragazzini di Sciuscià, del disoccupato di Ladri di biciclette, dei baraccati di Miracolo a Milano o del vecchio pensionato di Umberto D. (tutti film che in qualche modo De Sica rievoca nel Tetto), Natale e Luisa non saranno sconfitti dalla storia e dalle istituzioni. Anzi, sarà proprio l’umanità di uno dei poliziotti a permettere ai due sposi di vivere nella baracca che hanno costruito in una notte. Segno che l’Italia che si avvia a diventare una potenza economica mondiale (la prima immagine), possiede ancora un cuore solidale per gli ultimi (l’ultima). Rispetto alle passioni mostrate nei film precedenti che terminavano con la crocifissione, in questo caso possiamo scorgere un accenno di risurrezione.


CRITERIA FOR REVIEWING

Quando devo scrivere un articolo non seguo sempre lo stesso procedimento. Prima di tutto devo aver visto il film di cui parlo più e più volte, in modo da non basarmi su un’impressione, ma abbia riconosciuto la struttura narrativa su cui poggia e mi sia lasciato penetrare dai valori estetici e tematici che contiene.

Certo non è la stessa cosa scrivere un saggio per un volume o una recensione occasionale (ma il secondo tipo di intervento è sempre meno frequente nel mio lavoro), come è ben diverso occuparsi di un classico della storia del cinema o di una prima visione destinata a non lasciare il segno (e anche qui il mio interesse è concentrato soprattutto sulle opere del passato). In ogni caso, che si tratti di scrivere dieci pagine sull’ultimo Batman o cento parole su Citizen Kane, devo aver chiaro dentro di me l’impianto semiologico del film, il tipo di uso che l’autore (chiunque corrisponda a questa definizione: regista, produttore, macchina realizzativa...) fa del linguaggio filmico per veicolare dei pensieri o dei sentimenti. Ho scritto “sentimenti” e non “emozioni”, come in genere si usa, in quanto del cinema che emoziona non mi importa assolutamente nulla. Non voglio perdere tempo, cioè, con quei film che svaniscono come neve al sole non appena sono uscito di sala. Mi interessano, invece, i film che riescono a penetrare nel mio mondo valoriale, confermandolo o mettendolo in discussione, e che mi restano nella mente qualche volta anche per tutta la vita (ecco i casi in cui si può parlare di sentimento!). Mi accade, ad esempio, con le opere del Neorealismo, che per lo più raggiungono dei tali livelli di poesia e di amore per i personaggi che, per me, si tratta non tanto di visione, quanto di contemplazione.

È un cinema di uomini che si rivolge agli uomini nella loro integrità di persone (e non al loro portafoglio di consumatori), che riesce, magari inconsapevolmente, a rivelare degli aspetti profondi dell’essere al punto che, come cristiano, posso dire che spesso il cinema mi aiuta a convertirmi.

Detto questo, quando mi metto a scrivere, cerco di comunicare a chi mi leggerà quale tipo di percorso ha fatto in me il film in questione: se è rimasto, cioè, a un livello epidermico; se è riuscito a penetrare almeno il livello del pensiero razionale, suscitando in me una qualche reazione; o se si è addentrato fino a toccare le corde del mio cuore durevolmente. Come è accaduto con Il tetto di Vittorio De Sica.
Credo in un cinema umanista che aiuti a vivere e comprendere. Quando lo scopro, mi sforzo di farlo conoscere agli altri.



BIOGRAPHY

Marco Vanelli è nato a Lucca (Italia) nel 1963. Si è laureato prima in lettere poi in cinema, ma i suoi primi studi nell’ambito del linguaggio massmediale li ha fatti col gesuita p. Nazareno Taddei s.j., uno dei maggiori teorici italiani in questo campo. Al momento è vicepresidente del Cinit- Cineforum Italiano, una delle associazioni di cultura cinematografica riconosciute dal Ministero. Dirige la rivista “Ciemme”, dedicata alla storia e al linguaggio del cinema. Da anni sta lavorando alla ricerca di materiali relativi all’esperienza produttiva cattolica Orbis- Universalia, attiva nel secondo dopoguerra, per la quale collaborarono personaggi del calibro di Cesare Zavattini, Alessandro Blasetti, Vittorio De Sica, Luchino Visconti e Diego Fabbri. Tra le varie scoperte fatte, ha ritrovato un cortometraggio catechistico del 1945, Chi è Dio?, ritenuto perduto, scritto da Zavattini e Fabbri assieme a Mario Soldati che lo ha anche diretto. Il breve film, assieme a Roma città aperta, è la prima testimonianza di Neorealismo in Italia.

Collabora con varie riviste di carattere didattico e ha scritto diversi contributi di storia del cinema italiano, soprattutto inerenti il rapporto con la chiesa cattolica e i temi di carattere religioso. Attualmente sta lavorando sulle carte dell’archivio personale di Diego Fabbri. Insegna italiano in una scuola media e collabora con la cattedra di Cinema Italiano dell’Università di Pisa.

MAGALI VAN REETH




WELCOME

de Philippe Lioret France, 1h55, 2007.
Prix œcuménique à Berlinale 2009, section Panorama. Avec Vincent Lindon, Firat Ayverdi, Audrey Dana.


SHORT REVIEW



Maniant avec un grand talent les exigences du cinéma militant et celui du grand public, Philippe Lioret offre aux spectateurs un film touchant et grave sans sombrer dans le désespoir. A Calais, où échouent dans une zone de non-droit des milliers de clandestins à la recherche d'une vie meilleure, un maître-nageur noyé dans ses propres chagrins et désillusions, rencontre un jeune Kurde qui veut apprendre à nager pour traverser la Manche et aller rejoindre la femme qu'il aime. Une rencontre émouvante qui permet de dénoncer une situation politique, avec deux grands acteurs et une belle mise en scène. Prix œcuménique à Berlin en 2009.


LONG REVIEW


C'est à la piscine municipale de Calais qu'a lieu la rencontre des deux personnages principaux du film. Un maître nageur un peu las, dans son corps et dans son cœur, tente vainement de dissoudre son chagrin dans l'eau aseptisée. Les gestes mécaniques que Simon enseigne à longueur de bassin et de journée lui permettent de continuer à avancer la tête sous l'eau, sans rien voir d'autre que sa douleur. C'est dans cet univers clos et saturé qu'il croise un très jeune homme. Bilal, venu du bout du monde dans des conditions épouvantables, a gardé intactes son énergie et ses illusions. Il veut juste apprendre à nager pour traverser la Manche et rejoindre sa belle en Angleterre. Deux histoires d'amour différentes, deux hommes différents, deux mondes différents, Welcome tisse sa toile entre l'intime et l'actualité.

Parce que le film se déroule à Calais, la situation vécue par les clandestins est aussi au centre du film. Venus d'Afrique et d'Asie, des milliers de personnes, de plus en jeunes, échouent dans "la jungle", cette zone particulière à proximité du port de Calais où les clandestins se réfugient en attendant un hypothétique passage vers l'Angleterre. Depuis la fermeture du camp de Sangate en 2002 par Nicolas Sarkozy, alors ministre de l'Intérieur, il n'y a plus de structures pour accueillir ces immigrants. Les personnes qui les nourrissent ou les accueillent par pure compassion, sont aussi dans l'illégalité. Dans des conditions extrêmement précaires, aggravées par les violences policières d'un état qui refuse que des bénévoles s'occupent d'eux, les immigrants risquent chaque jour leur vie pour tenter un passage en Angleterre. C'est cette histoire aussi que Philippe Lioret voulait raconter, en l'ancrant dans une fiction.

Réalisé avec soin, Welcome réconcilie les cinéphiles avertis et le grand public. C'est du grand cinéma, avec des acteurs excellents, que ce soit Vincent Lindon, tout en retenu et souffrance, ou le jeune acteur Firat Ayverdi, dont l'innocence et l'énergie douce illuminent l'écran. L'exigence du réalisateur permet de dénoncer une situation politique contemporaine sans pour autant déprimer les spectateurs : le film porte en lui une espérance de fraternité. A la Berlinale 2009, le festival du film de Berlin, le Jury œcuménique a primé Welcome dans la section Panorama, soulignant le travail du réalisateur qui "arrive à mettre en évidence de façon convaincante comment le chemin vers l’amour entre deux personnes passe par un engagement pour les autres".


CRITERIA FOR REVIEWING

Je choisis un film dans les sorties de la semaine : il faut défendre le cinéma contemporain, pour ce que les artistes nous disent du monde d'aujourd'hui. Le cinéma commercial n'ayant pas besoin de soutien, je choisis généralement un film moins médiatisé dont les valeurs artistiques sont évidentes. Comme j'ai la chance de vivre dans un pays où les sorties sont très nombreuses, j'écris plutôt sur les films que j'aime et je ne parle pas de ceux qui sont médiocres ou dont je n'aime pas la problématique.

Je fais attention à ne pas raconter le film car je suis de ces cinéphiles qui adorent l'effet de surprise au cinéma. Je m'applique plutôt à donner à ceux qui me lisent l'envie d'aller voir le film. Je fais aussi attention à ne pas citer d'autres réalisateurs ou d'autres films car je sais que ces chroniques peuvent être lues par quelqu'un qui ne va jamais au cinéma ou qui n'a pas ou peu de références dans ce domaine.

Je souligne ce qui, en tant que croyante, me permet de nourrir ma foi et ma connaissance du monde dans lequel je vis : la beauté des images, la dénonciation d'une injustice, l'espérance, ou les problématiques de réconciliation, de pardon ou de solidarité.

Enfin, j'essaye de parler simplement de la technique du film : mise en scène, direction d'acteurs, innovation, parti pris, rythme. Lorsque le film a eu un prix œcuménique ou Signis, je le signale.



BIOGRAPHY


Magali Van Reeth (France) est née en 1956 au Congo. Journaliste de cinéma pour de nombreux sites Internet de l'Eglise catholique de France et pour un réseau de sites paroissiaux, elle a travaille aussi dans d'autres médias (presse écrite, radio, télévision). Elle a été jurée dans plusieurs festivals (notamment Karlovy Vary, Berlin, Locarno, Amiens, Toulouse). Membre de la Fipresci et membre du bureau de l'Union des journalistes de cinéma (France) depuis 2000. Secrétaire générale de SIGNIS France depuis 2006.

KAREN MERCED WILNER US





THE CHOSEN


US, 1981,
Directed by Jeremy Paul Kagan

SHORT REVIEW

Within the context of 1940s American Jewish life, The Chosen examines complex intra-Jewish issues through the friendship of two teen-aged boys, one assimilated and one Hassidic, and their surprising connections to each other’s fathers. The Chosen reveals conflicts familiar to believers of all creeds struggling to achieve a balance between engaging the world and remaining faithful.

The Chosen has been called, “One of the most profoundly Jewish films ever made...” Even so, when I screened it for a class composed primarily of Hispanics, people who had for the most part never met a Jew, they found intense common ground through the film’s broader themes of family and duty.


LONG REVIEW

In her book The Fifty Greatest Jewish Films, Kathryn Bernheimer names The Chosen as number one on her list, calling it “One of the most profoundly Jewish films ever made...” Yet, when I screened The Chosen for an Adult Education class composed primarily of Hispanics, everyone in attendance was deeply moved and several students borrowed the DVD to view at home with their families. Within the specifics of Jewish life, Jewish issues, and Jewish religious practice, a classroom of people who had for the most part never even met a Jewish person found intense common ground through the film’s broader context of family and duty. This is the special magic that motion pictures bring to us as an art.

Taking place in 1940s Brooklyn, The Chosen examines complex intra-Jewish issues through the friendship of two teen-aged boys (Reuven, who is assimilated, and Danny, who is Hassidic), and their surprising connections to each other’s fathers. The Chosen reveals familiar conflicts experienced by believers of all creeds struggling to achieve a balance between engaging the world and remaining faithful.

The heart of The Chosen lies in the intertwined dynamics between Reuven, Danny, Reuven’s politically active, scholarly and comparatively secular father, and Danny’s father who is an Orthodox Rabbi. The boys, though tenderly devoted to their own parent, are strongly drawn to each other’s father, and Reuven plays a significant, poignant role in the healing of Rabbi Saunders’ relationship with Danny. Robbie Benson as Danny Saunders, Barry Miller as Reuven Malter, Rod Steiger as Rabbi Saunders and Maximilian Schell as Professor Malter all deliver authentic, compelling performances.

As an examination of the variety of Jewish life in America, The Chosen opens a large and illuminating window into the schism between religious and secular Jews, the identity issues within assimilation, and the little-discussed yet passionate debate over the formation of Israel (Orthodox communities believed that Israel could not be authentically reestablished before the arrival of the Messiah).
As an exposition of the difficult choices facing all religious, The Chosen confronts significant, still relevant questions about the extent to which we can be in the world and yet not become of the world; about the contradictory principles of tradition and change; about how we best serve our faiths; about who we may associate with and even what we may look upon. The film invites discussion and reflection.

Few pictures display higher values, deeper sensitivities, or richer characterizations than The Chosen.


CRITERIA FOR FILM REVIEWING

I am more of an essayist than a “reviewer.” For me, as a writer and as an educator, film appreciation is as much an anthropological and spiritual pursuit as an artistic one.

Motion pictures are astoundingly revelatory. They speak to us of the times in which they were created, and they reveal truths about us, as an audience, through our modern responses and interpretations. Film reveals culture, high and pop; politics, obvious and codified; zeitgeist, literal and Freudian; Faith, devout and skeptical.

As a community college instructor, I am constrained to discuss film in a strictly secular way. When lecturing to or writing for my students, I emphasize the anthropological concerns cited above and also strive to illuminate the visual narrative tools – color, lighting, camera angle and movement , symbolic entities such as mirrors, knives, water and other natural elements.

When interpreting cinema from a spiritual perspective, I find it particularly freeing to be able to delve even deeper in the subtext to discover the divine. The most humanistic of filmmakers is often the carrier of the most profoundly spiritual underpinnings. Those unanswered questions about belief and justice posed by staunchly atheist Woody Allen in Crimes and Misdemeanors invite us to religious debate, mediation and self-examination as deep and grounded in faith as those ruminations on conscience and redemption presented in The Mission. In viewing The Pawnbroker, one’s interpretation of the ending can rely heavily on the interpretation of the symbolism in the film’s last scenes, and that can vary markedly depending on whether one is interpreting from the perspective of the Old Testament or the New.

Such are the considerations I strive to bring to my essays: not only what the artists intend, but what the audience brings to the film; how a film’s perceived meaning can change as politics and traditions change; how movies provide windows into times, people, and places we never might have known while simultaneously providing mirrors to reveal ourselves to ourselves; and, finally, how to recognize the scriptural and other spiritual parallels that can spur our faith as we appreciate great films.




BIOGRAPHY

Karen Merced WILLNER is a US American educator, lecturer and writer specializing in the area of motion picture analysis and interpretation. She possesses extensive experience presenting to Orange County California religious, private, and educational institutions including the Roman Catholic Diocese, Temple Judea, Laguna Woods Human Relations Commission, and Saddleback Community College, where she has taught “Film as Literature” for 10 years.

Karen is lecturer/discussion leader for the 1000+ member Film Club at Laguna Woods Village, and in 2007 was moderator for the monthly film and discussion series presented at Bowers Cultural History Museum in Santa Ana, California. She is a member of the Catholic Academy (USA SIGNIS Affiliate) and a graduate of the University of San Francisco, a Catholic University in Northern California.

CATHERINE WONG Hong Kong




SHOWER/ XI ZAO

China, 1999.
Director: ZHANG Yang


OCIC Award, San Sebastian Film Festival 1999

SHORT REVIEW

In China and Japan, it is very popular for people to go to bathhouse to enjoy a hot bath. In fact, bathhouse acts as a socializing space for families and friends, for relaxation, gossips and chitchat. ZHANG Yang’s Shower raised the curtain by introducing a bathhouse in a small community in Beijing, run by father and sons. This extraordinary bathhouse ties the family up, washes down conflicts and gaps between two generations. Through the joys and arguments of the protagonists, the film shows the true meaning of family as well as the challenges and impacts on traditions that are brought by rapid societal developments.


LONG REVIEW

A Bathhouse is commonly found in China and Japan as not every household has a bathtub. Thus, it is very popular for people to go to bathhouses to enjoy a hot bath. In fact, bathhouse acts as a socializing space for families and friends, for relaxation, gossips and chitchat.

ZHANG Yang's Shower raised the curtain by introducing a bathhouse in a small community, run by father and sons. This extraordinary bathhouse ties the family up, washes down conflicts and gaps between two generations. Through the joys and arguments of the protagonists, the film presents the true meaning of family as well as the challenges and impacts on traditions that are brought by rapid societal developments.

Master Liu almost devotes his whole life to the family’s bathhouse in the suburbs of Beijing. His eldest son (Da Ming) refused to inherit it, left his hometown for years and works in the city for greater prosperity. One day, Da Ming comes back as he misunderstood that his father has died. Knowing that it is a prank made by his retarded brother, Da Ming is relieved and stays at home. Master Liu is very happy for the reunion, but expresses his joyful feelings implicitly. A few days later, Master Liu collapses and Da Ming decides to work temporarily in the bathhouse. It is the turning point for Da Ming's life: he gradually gets to understand more about his father, about the bathhouse, about his home…

The film shows stories of different characters and Master Liu is the key person to link them up. He intrudes into their lives (and vice versa) and affects each of the others. In fact, the bathhouse is a small community full of human interests and collective memories. Da Ming returns home, re-examines his faults, shamed as he is, he discovers the virtue of forgiveness from his father towards family members or even strangers. Ultimately, he accepts the mental defect of his brother.

The water of the bathhouse is very symbolic: it cleans not only the dirt, but also cleans up people’s hearts. It allows people to reborn and to find love. The film also shows various challenges on traditions that are brought about by rapid developments of society, especially about the destruction of small houses built in alleys and courtyards. The sense of belonging and personal intimacy within neighbourhoods no longer exists. Meanwhile, the small community is now substituted by high storey residential buildings and people are alienated from each other.


CRITERIA FOR REVIEWING

When writing a film review, I consider the following:
1. The regions where the review will be published and try to relate the film to the local audiences; look for links between the storyline and global world or my own country
2. Any insights on social values and pinpoint them to readers
3. Any insights on social teaching from the Church
4. Sometimes may include director’s former productions, or compare films with similar
topics



BIOGRAPHY

Catherine WONG is a film reviewer in Hong Kong. Currently, she works as a producer and scriptwriter for religious television programs, and Treasurer of SIGNIS Asia. She received her Master degree in Communications and Journalism from the Chinese University of Hong Kong. She has served on juries at various international film festival including Cannes, Hong Kong, Montreal and Setubal, Portugal. Her publications include Picket Fences and Madness of Advertising.

APPENDIX, THE PHILIPPINES Process of review and classification for CINEMA (Catholic Initiative for Enlightened Movie Appreciation), a work of the Office for Women in the Philippines Bishops Conference. Films reviewed: PLONING (Imelda Benitez), ANG PANGDADALADA NI MAXIMO OLIVERAS (Josephine Mabanta), MAGNIFICO (Rizalino Pinlac Jr).

THE PHILIPPINES


CINEMA (Catholic Initiative for Enlightened Movie Appreciation)
of the Catholic Bishops’ Conference of the Philippines
Office on Women



No less than Pope John Paul II took cognizance of the overwhelming power of media, especially film, over the lives of people. During his historic visit to Manila in the 80’s, he said, “The image you film, the sounds you record, the programs you broadcast, cross every barrier of Time and Space… What people see and hear in your transmissions and commentaries heavily influence the way they think and act,” Indeed, just as exploitative profit oriented groups can use film to cater to the moviegoers’ baser instincts, without considering their moral well-being, so can more concerned entities like Church based organizations employ the same to enlighten viewers through an intelligent assessment of film based on gospel values.

For this purpose, the Catholic Initiative for Enlightened Movie Appreciation (CINEMA) was created as a special project of the Catholic Bishops’ Conference of the Philippines (CBCP) Office on Women. Launched on July 14, 2000 as the CBCP Office on Women’s unique contribution to the Jubilee Year celebration, CINEMA is the movie classification and ratings board of the CBCP. It has been the Church’s pro-active response to the proliferation of pornography, violence and other morally offensive issues in media, especially film. Not a censorship body, it aims to bring about a film literate citizenry who will promote Christian values. It reviews, classifies and rates films to promote a discerning appreciation of film and to guide the viewing public in the critical choice and patronage of films.

The review for publication is written in English for foreign films and Filipino for local productions. Before writing the review, the reviewer will have seen the film, analyzed and discussed it with assessors using the accomplished assessment forms, may have downloaded information from the internet, seen the ads, press releases, movie commentaries and theater posters. The review consists of the following:

The credits: the same data as found in the accomplished assessment forms.

The ratings: These give an assessment of the technical excellence and moral content of the film. Stars and bullets are used to indicate these.

Aside from guiding the movie viewer, ratings also recommend the appropriate audience for it.

The review article: This has usually 3 paragraphs:

Paragraph A: The Synopsis
Paragraph B: Technical and Artistic Merits
Paragraph C: The moral or value aspects projected by the movie.

Paragraph A: The synopsis in English is written in the present tense; while the one in Filipino should be in the past tense (because of the nature of the language). The synopsis contains the introduction of the movie story, the names of the important characters (with the corresponding actors/ actresses names in the parenthesis) and the main events leading to the point of interest or crisis. So as not to spoil the interest of the moviegoer, the ending is not given but leading questions may be asked.

Paragraph B: This presents the technical and artistic merits noted by the writer, using the data on the assessment forms and other possible source of information.

Paragraph C: This calls attention to the way life/ the human condition is presented in the film. Is it a truthful presentation or is it falsified or distorted? It notes the ethical and moral values (may be universal/ human cultural/ Filipino) projected. How does the film project good and evil, right and wrong? What can be learned from the film? What should we watch out for, to be accepted or rejected? And when called for, what does it show and say about women and their life situation? This paragraph helps the viewers appreciate the value of a good film.

The whole review has about 30-35 lines: Paragraph A and B about 8-12 lines each and Paragraph C about 15-18 lines.

Besides a corps of volunteer reviewers, usually lay people with training in film review and classification, CINEMA has an executive board. It is the first organization of its kind in the Philippines. Only CINEMA considers the moral implications in a film, aside from other considerations, in its reviews. Every week CINEMA publishes the classifications, ratings and reviews of 3-5 movies currently shown in Metro Manila. Its reviews have been quoted, reprinted, and commented on in the country’s mainstream media. From its inception in 2000 to 2007, it distributed 1035 hard copies weekly, (excluding fax messages and emails of these releases) to the media, schools, religious institutions, Metro Manila parishes, all bishops and their dioceses throughout the country, Non-government organizations, lay leaders in the local churches and government offices. The Philippine government’s Movie and Television Ratings and Classification Board (MTRCB) requests for its weekly copy. However, due to financial constraints, CINEMA has ceased its printed publications last year, and it has gone on line. Reviews of 2008 to the present can be viewed on www.cbcpcinema.blogspot.com. It has about 1,800 hits daily. CINEMA pages are the most visited in the website of the CBCP. These data are a genuine indication of the movie audience’s great interest in the moral implications found in film as interpreted and evaluated according to Christian and gospel values by CINEMA.




PLONING

By: Imelda Benitez

Title of Award-winning Filipino Film: PLONING


Title: Ploning Cast: Judy Ann Santos, Gina Pareño, Mylene Dizon, Eugene Domingo, Tony Mabesa, Meryll Soriano, Ces Quesada, Crispin Medina, Tessie Tomas, Spanky Manikan, Ketchup Eusebio, Boodge Fernandez, Cedric Amit, Ogoy Agustin Director: Dante Nico Garcia Producer: Panoramanila; Screenwriters: Dte Nico Garcia, Benjamin Lingan Music: Jesse Lasaten Genre: Drama Distributor: Panoramanila Location: Philippines Running Time: 110 min.


Technical Assessment: 4 (above average)
Moral Assessment: 4 (wholesome)
CINEMA Rating: For viewers age 13 and below with parental guidance


Short Review

Muo Sei (Boodge Fernandez) travels to Cuyo, Palawan on board an illegal fishing boat and given a whole day to search for a peculiar Ploning. Ploning (Judy Ann Santos) is actually a good-natured woman yet perceived as enigmatic.

Ploning is an exemplary film that showcases the rich culture, scenic island and beautiful language of Cuyo. It has solid plot complemented by excellent acting, good cinematography, musical score and overall production design.

Ploning shows that genuine love radiates through the aura and attitudes of a person regardless of pains it entails. It is a positive film highlighting the values of love, forgiveness, sacrifice, service and selflessness that could inspire viewers of all ages.

Long Review

Muo Sei (Boodge Fernandez) travels to Cuyo, Palawan on board an illegal fishing boat to search for a certain “ploning.” He is given a whole day for this quick mission to avoid having trouble with vessel authorities. In the course of the day’s search, it turns out that Ploning (Judy Ann Santos) is actually good-natured woman yet perceived as mysterious. She has been waiting for her boyfriend who left without a trace over a decade ago. She is a dutiful daughter, a good friend to local people especially women, and a surrogate parent to a child named Digo. One feast day, people are surprised to hear news that Ploning is leaving the island to look for her long lost boyfriend.

Ploning is an exemplary film which showcases not only the scenic island of Cuyo but also its rich culture and beautiful language. The film has a solid story so that despite the many build up of characters, it keeps focused on its central character. The simple production is intensified by remarkable acting of the lead actress Judy Ann Santos and those supporting her including the newcomers, which is also to the credit of the director. "Ploning" to the Cuyonons is also a legendary love song about promises and undying love. Its soothing melody perfectly fits the musical score, combined with sounds that capture the rural setting. The cinematography is commendable with careful treatment of its composition and overall production design. It has smooth flow of emotions and well-coordinated scenes.

Ploning revolves around different perceptions and concept of love. Patient in loving, Ploning believes that to love is to trust and to be hurt but her friend Celeste believes otherwise. The film says that genuine love radiates through the aura and attitudes of a person regardless of pains it entails. Ploning's love is genuine, unreserved and does not expect anything in return, and it’s the same way she loves her parents, friends, her foster child and most of all God. The film posts a challenge to viewers to be instruments of animation and hope to people. Pain could make one’s life either miserable or meaningful. Ploning chooses the latter and the film shows how her legacy of kindness leaves a mark in the hearts of the people whose lives she had touched. “Ploning” is a positive film highlighting the values of love, forgiveness, sacrifice, service, and selflessness that can be a source of inspiration to viewers of all ages.





ANG PAGDADALAGA NI MAXIMO OLIVEROS

By: Josephine Mabanta


Running Time: 104 minutes; Lead Cast: Nathan Lopez, JR Valentin, Soliman Cruz, Ping Medina, Bodgie Pascua; Director: Aureaus Solito; Story and Screenplay: Michiko Yamamoto; Editor: Clarence Sison; Cinematography: Nap Jamir; Production Design: Clint Catalan, Christina Dy, Lily Esquillon; Musical Scorer: Pepe Smith; Producer: Raymond Lee; Location: Slums of Manila; Genre: Drama; Distributor: Cinemalaya Productions

Technical Assessment: 3 (average)
Moral Assessment : 2.5 (disturbing)
Cinema Rating : For viewers 14 and above

Short Review

Ang Pagdadalaga ni Maximo Oliveros is a drama about friendship, family and loyalty amidst the a community accustomed to violence, criminality and corruption. Maximo Oliveros, or Maxi for short, is the 12-year old protagonist who struggles between protecting his loving family or listening to his beloved police friend’s moral advice. This straightforward plot brings out a poignant realization that morality can also be present in a person society frowns on. From the point of view of a homosexual boy entering puberty, ethics is understood to be forgotten as even those who profess to uphold law and morality are corrupted by the promise of power and money.

Long Review

Twelve-year-old homosexual Maximo Oliveros belongs to a loving family living through illegal trade and violence in an impoverished community. He takes care of his widowed father Mang Paco and his two brothers, not once questioning their whereabouts. One night Maxi is harassed by his neighbours. Victor, a newbie policeman, rescues an almost naked Maxi from being molested. Maxi ingratiates himself to the young policeman. The two become good friends but things change when Maxi’s eldest brother accidentally kills a student. Maxi becomes torn between his devotion to his family and his friendship with Victor. In the end, he walks past Victor in homage to the movie “The Third Man”.
The Blossoming of Maximo Oliveros looks a little technically amateurish. The lighting is monotonous and the cinematography a little shaky. However, it makes up with the beautiful narrative, rich imagery and visual metaphors. The character development is honest, well-rounded, whole and meaningful: the petty criminal father who loves his children, the older brother who is compassionate towards his gay baby brother, the neophyte policeman who is suddenly conscious of the reality of violence, the young homosexual who experiences puppy love for the first time. Following Maxi’s daily life is a gentle caress of the senses. The storyline is so truthful that viewers will proudly share Maxi’s triumph as he begins to understand the grief of losing a parent, the pain of a broken heart, and the agony of betrayal.

It seems disturbing that the film presents violence and crime as acceptable for one who is poor. The movie seems to say that poverty justifies unlawful acts, and that violence is necessary to suppress these acts. Fighting is unavoidable even over the pettiest issue, such as where to dump the garbage. It seems poverty has robbed the community of good graces and morals. Save for Maxi who is still young and effeminate, all the characters have no qualms about committing acts of aggression or brutality, including the seemingly incorruptible policeman who believes killing a criminal is justifiable.
Despite all that, though, the movie is truthful and sincere in portraying life—not exaggerates what is good and beautiful nor hiding what is painful and ugly. The movie values family and friendship and emphasizes that respect is due to every person whether gay or straight. Moreover, from Maxi’s gentleness, his brothers learn to forgive, move on, and change for the better.






MAGNIFICO

By Rizalino Pinlac, Jr.

Technical Assessment: 4 (above average)
Moral Assessment: 4 (wholesome)
Rating: For Viewers All Ages

Genre: Drama; Lead Cast: Jiro Manio, Lorna Tolentino, Albert Martinez, Gloria Romero, Danilo Barrios, Isabella de Leon, Tonton Gutierrez, Mark Gil, Girlie Sevilla; Director: Maryo J. delos Reyes; Screenplay: Michiko Yamamoto; Location: Laguna, Philippines; Running Time: 120 mins.

Short Review

When the little boy Magnifico’s grandmother, Lola (Gloria Romero) is diagnosed with pancreatic cancer, the impoverished life of his family goes from bad to worse. The cost of medication would be as much as the cost of her burial. Out of genuine concern, Magnifico secretly builds Lola a coffin.

The film, being raw and realistic, Magnifico reflects plain honesty typical of Filipino family and community life. Masterfully crafted and tightly edited, the film is more than a tearjerker; it is a social commentary about life and death told through the eyes of a child. True to its title, Magnifico is an affective depiction of the magic of selfless giving.


Long Review

Edna (Lorna Tolentino) and Gener (Albert Martinez) are full of hopes for their newborn so they named him Magnifico, after a magician. Magnifico means magnificent. But then Magnifico (Jiro Manio) grows up to be an average boy, kindhearted and charming. When Magnifico’s grandmother, Lola (Gloria Romero) is diagnosed with pancreatic cancer, the impoverished life of his family goes from bad to worse. His mother becomes even more concerned with their finances while his father’s income is never enough for them. Still, they have to take care of Magnifico’s younger sister Helen (Isabella de Leon) afflicted with cerebral palsy. The family’s only hope, his older brother (Danilo Barrios), has just lost his college scholarship. Magnifico gets too concerned with their family’s problems and he could only think of raising funds for his grandmother’s impending demise. A burial plot, he learns from Lola, would cost 30,000 pesos. A little extra would help him bring Helen to the amusement park. With the help of a close friend (Joseph Robles), Magnifico secretly builds Lola a coffin.

The film, being raw and realistic, Magnifico reflects plain honesty typical of Filipino family and community life. The understated portrayals of the actors make the film a real delight to watch. The director and the writer have a knack for lightening up heavy scenes with simplicity and humor. Masterfully crafted and tightly edited, Magnifico is more than a tearjerker; it is a social commentary about life and death told through the eyes of a child.

What goes around, comes around. This adage is not original of Magnifico but it could well sum up everything the movie wants to convey. The boy Magnifico may not have lived up to his parents’ expectations but later on proves himself more than worthy of his name. He has uplifted the entire community with his little acts of kindness thereby getting back more than what he wanted. Although it has cost him a lot for his family and the entire community to realize that there’s more to life than money and good fortune, it’s still worth all the sacrifice. True to its title, Magnifico is an affective depiction of the magic and magnificence of life, and yes, even death.



CATHOLIC INITIATIVE FOR ENLIGHTENED MOVIE APPRECIATION

ASSESSMENT FORM


REVIEWER: DATE OF REVIEW


GENERAL INFORMATION

TITLE RUNNING TIME
LEAD CAST
DIRECTOR:
SCREENWRITER:
PRODUCER:
EDITOR: MUSICAL DIRECTOR
GENRE:
CINEMATOGRAPHER: DISTRIBUTOR
LOCATION:


BRIEF FILM SYNOPSIS






TECHNICAL EVALUATION


AREA

OF

CONCERN
RATING
5 - EXCELLENT
4 - ABOVE AVERAGE
3 - AVERAGE
2 - BELOW AVERAGE
1 - POOR


REMARKS
ACTING/ CHARACTERIZATION


CINEMATOGRAPHY


COMPOSITION


DIALOGUE


DIRECTING


EDITING


LIGHTING


MUSICAL SCORE


PLOT DEVELOPMENT


PRODUCTION DESIGN/
COSTUME, MAKE-UP


SOUND EFFECTS


VISUAL EFFECTS


TECHNICAL ASSESSMENT
1:1-1.99 2:2-2.99 3:3-3.99 4:4-4.99 5: Excellent








NOTE: HALF stars may be added to assessment as needed.


MORAL EVALUATION

CENTRAL IDEA:

SUBJECT
MATTER/S
MANNER OF
PRESENTATION
MORAL IMPLICATION




MORAL ASSESSMENT
EXEMPLARY WHOLESOME ACCEPTABLE DISTURBING ABHORRENT
5 4 3 2 1



NOTE: HALF bullets may be added to assessment needed.

VIEWERS INFORMATION GUIDE

AREA
OF INFORMATION
FREQUENCY
FREQUENT/
NOT FREQUENT
INTENSITY
Low/Medium/High
VALUES
within the context
movie
VALUES vs Filipino
Catholic values
Vulgar Language





Sexual Issues





Violence





Emotional Stress





Drugs/ Alcohol





Others/ Specify





REASONS FOR THE CLASSIFICATION



OUTSTANDING FEATURES OF THE FILM:

ADDITIONAL REMARKS:

RATING:




REVIEWER'S SIGNATURE

CINEMA RECIPIENT'S SIGNATURE
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DATE RECEIVED BY CINEMA