Critic's Grade: B

So there I was, in a darkened theater, waiting to see what all the fuss was about surrounding Mel Gibson's "The Passion of the Christ," his third directorial effort, and something of a passion of his own. You'd have to be passionate about something so hated before it was ever even seen by those who denounced it, but good ol' Mel met his detractors head-on, pressing on until at last, his labor of love saw the light of a movie projector.

Whether or not you believe it should have ever seen this light will ultimately be your decision. For me, "The Passion" is a movie that is both harrowing and troubling, a masterpiece and at the same time very problematic. Suffice it to say that the film's journey has not been a very pleasant one, what with all the ruckus being raised about the potential for anti-Semitic sentiments as a result of their depiction in the film. Then, just days before the film's release, Gibson's father had to go and blast the Holocaust as a lie, a fabrication. But if controversy could be considered an attention-grabber (and it usually is), there has never been a more clear-cut case than this. Don't believe me? Just look at the box office intake for the film's opening day alone, and you'll see my point.

But this brings up a very interesting point for me: were the film not as publicized at it had been prior to its theatrical distribution, would it have received as much attention from audiences? It's hard to say: on the one hand, it is a well-made movie, flawless in its cinematic execution, and moving enough at times to make up for the not-so-pleasant subject matter. On the other hand, I cannot help but wonder what it is about the film that keeps me from embracing it as much as I would have liked to. Be it a matter of wanting something more uplifting than downtrodden, or perhaps just trying too hard to enjoy something from which little enjoyment is to be derived (when was the last time you clapped your hands at a crucifixion?), there is just something there that doesn't seal the deal for me.

Now I'm sure everyone, atheists and devout believers alike, knows the story behind Christ's death and resurrection, so I'll spare you the details and get right down to the good stuff. As depicted, the events of the movie focus on the final hours of the Messiah (portrayed by Jim Caviezel), from His encounter with the Romans and arrest in the Garden of Olives, to His plea to God, "Father, forgive them, for they know not what they do." We watch as the Romans project upon Him punishments most vile; we witness the uproar that comes about as Pontius Pilate (Hristo Naumov Shopov) refuses to condemn what he believes to be an innocent man.

Most notably, however, we gasp and wince as we watch the brutality of Christ's crucifixion, which begins with a barrage of beatings and scourgings before He is made to carry His own cross to the place of His death. Since the film's debut, much has been made of the graphic nature of the film's treatment of these events: some have proclaimed it as masterful, a sort of "It is as it was" examination, while others have denounced the violence as overshadowing the more important elements afoot.

For me, it's a little of both. Yes, such an honest visual account of what occurred in that passage of time does tend to make one appreciate what Christ was willing to go through for our sins, but really, did Gibson have to pour more blood over the message than all the "Texas Chainsaw Massacre" movies put together? There is one moment in the film that does manage to grip us despite its overtly gory nature: as Jesus is being scourged, His mother, Mary (Maia Morgenstern), looks on in utter horror. The mother/son bond felt between the two in these moments is a great enhancement of the film's emotional power; it's only in later moments that it tends to dwindle.

And then there's the whole anti-Semitism thing. Not being a Jew myself, or an extremely religious person, for that matter, I cannot take offense to the manner in which Jews have been portrayed in "The Passion." I can, however, report on what I have seen, and it's not very pretty. As seen in the film, the Jews are unhesitant in their pursuit of Christ's death: they are shown as being hasty, full of a mob-like mentality that sadly enough does tend to lend some foundation to the arguments made by many religious leaders in the months prior to the film's release. Even though the lowest of the Romans carry out the most excessively violent tasks against Jesus, it is always the Jews who have the final say on what gets whipped, and what gets nailed to what. I guess time will be the judge of this, although I'm sure we don't have to worry about another Holocaust anytime soon.

As a cinematic experience, "The Passion" is quite gorgeous. The majestic cinematography of Caleb Deschanel evokes a tone of mournful dread that compliments the film's underpinnings, while John Debney's flavorful, eclectic score lends a great deal of emotion to the piece as a whole. Authenticity is apparent in both the production design and the writing, with the entire film spoken in the languages of Aramaic and Latin.

But spoken words matter little here: it is the physical performances of the cast that draw us in even as other forces push us out. Caviezel makes for a strong Christ, depicting His final hours in a light that gives us a sense of how willing He was to die for His children. Maia Morgenstern's turn as Mary is the film's most stunning performance, while Monica Bellucci offers some good supporting acting as Magdalene, the prostitute who was converted by her Savior's love and compassion.

But looking back on the experience, I'm left with yet another burning theory. Prior to partaking of "The Passion," I spent the afternoon revisiting William Wyler's epic "Ben-Hur," one of the greatest of all films, and a Biblical epic also. Now there is a movie with a strong emotional core, full of resonance and warmth; there has not been a single viewing that has not had me in tears. My reaction to "The Passion" being far less so, I have to wonder: Why is it that fiction sometimes enhances a nonfictional event? Should we not have had enough reason to cry for the 1000+ souls that perished when the Titanic sank, enough to merit the absence of a young lovers subplot? Same goes here: was not Christ's death enough reason to open the floodgates?

Yes, but not quite. It's all in how you go about telling your story, and Gibson's crimson-soaked depiction of an event so well-known, while faithful to its origins, remains somewhat distanced from the spiritual uplift it so desperately wishes to bestow upon its audience. "The Passion of the Christ" is a handsome film, articulate in its design and beautiful to behold. But don't expect your spirit to soar.

Copyright @ Hauntnut.com

All Reviews by David Litton [Home page]
If you are the author of this review, you may edit it by signing in.