kitty
02-25-2004, 10:07 PM
Passion of the Christ: Product of a Messiah or a Madman?
There are two things that people like to think make a movie dramatic, arthouse-y and powerful:
1) slow motion camera-work
2) long vapid stares into nothing-ness (aka "dramatic" acting)
Done in excess, it can make a passable movie an absolute abomination to watch. Gibson, no virgin to the directing world, should've known better in Passion of the Christ, and yet, again we see him resort to the same tactics he used in Braveheart, but to the nth degree. Although visually stunning and brimming with overly obvious religious imagery, Passion was damned by melodramatic overacting and its pretentious self-importance.
Perhaps a little too limited by the fact that the entire story of the film is not only well-known, but readily available in the top drawer of the bedside table of every hotel room in America (you know, the place where you normally keep the condoms), Passion takes the most literal interpretation of the post-Last Supper Christ and translates it to the big screen. Gibson wastes little time with interpretation and exposition, instead choosing to focus on transmitting emotion through drawn-out closeups on the hysterical reactions of Christ's followers, and the angry condemnation of his opposition. Maybe the most obvious of Gibson's fiddling with the Good Book is his inclusion of an androgynous, cloaked figure who represents the demonic, or human temptations of Christ and a physical embodiment of any doubt he might have in God, during his suffering. The figure is best used during the Gethsemane scene (an excellent starting point for the story), where James Caviezel, as Christ, holds a three-way conversation between himself, the hooded figure who tries to tempt him to turn his back on God, and the unseen and unheard Father, Himself.
Aside from the inclusion of this hooded figure, the film stays true to the story, depicting Christ's capture and condemnation at the hands of the Jewish high temple, followed by his condemnation, torture, and execution, interspersed with brief flashbacks that reflect the teachings of his life as a juxtaposition to the violence of his death.
And, oh, how violent that death is. Parents, do not take your children to see this movie -- I don't care how much you want to instill in them an awe of Christ, this movie is more horrifying than all those movies conservatives have raged about for years, combined. Flashbacks aside, Passion cannot help but be little more than a bloody orgy of brutality. Gibson seems to think that by showing how Christ suffered, we, the believing and non-believing moviegoers will realize the glory of his life. Instead, we are pushed to the very limits of our own desensitization, to the point where, I, for one, felt drained and numb when Jesus finally succumbs to death. After nearly two hours of watching Jesus surrender himself to flesh-tearing whippings, beatings, and at last being nailed to the cross, my brain and heart were simply too cold to react.
Like Kill Bill, if the graphic brutality were removed from this film, there would be nothing left. To me, senseless, nigh pornographic, violence cannot, in and of itself, offer good storytelling. There needs to be something more, but Gibson, for whatever reason, chooses not to provide it.
What he does provide is, as mentioned, a visually stunning movie. Gibson treats each shot as if it were a painting or tableau, chock full of powerful symbolism and iconography. This often works in his favour, as each movement of the camera captures another angle of the Jesus' journey to the
cross. Scenes with little or no dialogue are extremely heart-wrenching, since Gibson is well aware of how visual elements work well on the screen in a story like this. However, at the same time, this encourages actors to overact, as they are each aware of the scope of their role and how they often must use body language to convey their feelings. (Obviously, this is further emphasized by Gibson's decision to have the entire movie in Aramaic). It is as if none of them can forget that they are not merely characters, but larger-than-life icons, that must be portrayed with larger-than-life hyper-emotionality. Occasionally, this melodrama is so overplayed, it crosses the line into the inane, and I had to, more than once, stifle an inappropriate giggle during some inopportune scenes.
Caviezel is fairly powerful with his depiction of Jesus, though most of the time he need do little more than grunt and fall over, while fashionably sporting several pints worth of fake blood. Scenes outside of these are delivered with intensity that belies a borderline insanity or fervent passion for his beliefs. These alternate interpretations are particularly well done early on in the movie, when we are simply uncertain whether Jesus is the messiah or a madman. Maia Morgenstern (the Virgin Mary) and Monica Bellucci (Mary Magdalene, who has maybe two lines throughout the whole movie) also do well with their characters, though they are given an infintesimally small range to work with: both oscillate between sad, more sad, and hysterically sad. A welcome performance is delivered by Ivano Marescotti who plays Pontificus Pilatus, stretching the limits of this rather minor role almost to the breaking point, yet he still manages to communicate a moving depth to his character, trapped between a rock and a hard place.
Outside of these focal characters, most of the actors give one-dimensional and rather cardboard performances for their archetypal roles. Claudia Gerini is Pilatus' wife (aptly named Claudia) who sympathisizes for the suffering of a holy man, and he plays this anachronistic bleeding heart liberal to a tee, with little explanation for why she empathisizes with Christ. The Jewish leaders and mobs are similarly flat, with no convincing reason articulated for their homicidally persistant anger towards Christ.
Many have denounced this film as being anti-Semetic, and while I hesitate to use that term, I cannot help but agree that the film helps support anti-Jewish sentiment -- partly by weighing in on a religious war that has been waging for centuries. The Jews are negatively depicted because Gibson does not bother to give them a three-dimensionality that allows the reader to see them as anything but 'the bad guy', and to call this film 'anti-Semetic', one must remember that much of the oppression the Jews suffered was rationalized by the belief that Jews were to blame for the death of Christ. It is therefore in this context that one must decide for oneself if Gibson is being out-and-out anti-Jewish, or merely promoting a pro-Christian message.
Overall, this movie seems to be a thinly veiled conversion effort to rejuvenate the ranks of Christianity and to reenthuse those already following the faith. It reinforces existing preconceptions, such as the idea that Christ was white, or that he spoke Aramaic, or even that he was crucified through tha hands (rather than through the wrists, that some have argued would have been more practical). The movie offers little to someone who does not already prescribe to the beliefs of Christianity, and while it is well put together (indicating a definite labour of love on Gibson's part), we're still not sure if this is messianic-level filmmaking, or an insanely monumental career-suicide.
What we are sure of is that Passion is a gruesome, shocking display of how grotesquely evil human nature can really be, as well as a controversial R-rated version of one of those Sunday morning Bible study specials.
There are two things that people like to think make a movie dramatic, arthouse-y and powerful:
1) slow motion camera-work
2) long vapid stares into nothing-ness (aka "dramatic" acting)
Done in excess, it can make a passable movie an absolute abomination to watch. Gibson, no virgin to the directing world, should've known better in Passion of the Christ, and yet, again we see him resort to the same tactics he used in Braveheart, but to the nth degree. Although visually stunning and brimming with overly obvious religious imagery, Passion was damned by melodramatic overacting and its pretentious self-importance.
Perhaps a little too limited by the fact that the entire story of the film is not only well-known, but readily available in the top drawer of the bedside table of every hotel room in America (you know, the place where you normally keep the condoms), Passion takes the most literal interpretation of the post-Last Supper Christ and translates it to the big screen. Gibson wastes little time with interpretation and exposition, instead choosing to focus on transmitting emotion through drawn-out closeups on the hysterical reactions of Christ's followers, and the angry condemnation of his opposition. Maybe the most obvious of Gibson's fiddling with the Good Book is his inclusion of an androgynous, cloaked figure who represents the demonic, or human temptations of Christ and a physical embodiment of any doubt he might have in God, during his suffering. The figure is best used during the Gethsemane scene (an excellent starting point for the story), where James Caviezel, as Christ, holds a three-way conversation between himself, the hooded figure who tries to tempt him to turn his back on God, and the unseen and unheard Father, Himself.
Aside from the inclusion of this hooded figure, the film stays true to the story, depicting Christ's capture and condemnation at the hands of the Jewish high temple, followed by his condemnation, torture, and execution, interspersed with brief flashbacks that reflect the teachings of his life as a juxtaposition to the violence of his death.
And, oh, how violent that death is. Parents, do not take your children to see this movie -- I don't care how much you want to instill in them an awe of Christ, this movie is more horrifying than all those movies conservatives have raged about for years, combined. Flashbacks aside, Passion cannot help but be little more than a bloody orgy of brutality. Gibson seems to think that by showing how Christ suffered, we, the believing and non-believing moviegoers will realize the glory of his life. Instead, we are pushed to the very limits of our own desensitization, to the point where, I, for one, felt drained and numb when Jesus finally succumbs to death. After nearly two hours of watching Jesus surrender himself to flesh-tearing whippings, beatings, and at last being nailed to the cross, my brain and heart were simply too cold to react.
Like Kill Bill, if the graphic brutality were removed from this film, there would be nothing left. To me, senseless, nigh pornographic, violence cannot, in and of itself, offer good storytelling. There needs to be something more, but Gibson, for whatever reason, chooses not to provide it.
What he does provide is, as mentioned, a visually stunning movie. Gibson treats each shot as if it were a painting or tableau, chock full of powerful symbolism and iconography. This often works in his favour, as each movement of the camera captures another angle of the Jesus' journey to the
cross. Scenes with little or no dialogue are extremely heart-wrenching, since Gibson is well aware of how visual elements work well on the screen in a story like this. However, at the same time, this encourages actors to overact, as they are each aware of the scope of their role and how they often must use body language to convey their feelings. (Obviously, this is further emphasized by Gibson's decision to have the entire movie in Aramaic). It is as if none of them can forget that they are not merely characters, but larger-than-life icons, that must be portrayed with larger-than-life hyper-emotionality. Occasionally, this melodrama is so overplayed, it crosses the line into the inane, and I had to, more than once, stifle an inappropriate giggle during some inopportune scenes.
Caviezel is fairly powerful with his depiction of Jesus, though most of the time he need do little more than grunt and fall over, while fashionably sporting several pints worth of fake blood. Scenes outside of these are delivered with intensity that belies a borderline insanity or fervent passion for his beliefs. These alternate interpretations are particularly well done early on in the movie, when we are simply uncertain whether Jesus is the messiah or a madman. Maia Morgenstern (the Virgin Mary) and Monica Bellucci (Mary Magdalene, who has maybe two lines throughout the whole movie) also do well with their characters, though they are given an infintesimally small range to work with: both oscillate between sad, more sad, and hysterically sad. A welcome performance is delivered by Ivano Marescotti who plays Pontificus Pilatus, stretching the limits of this rather minor role almost to the breaking point, yet he still manages to communicate a moving depth to his character, trapped between a rock and a hard place.
Outside of these focal characters, most of the actors give one-dimensional and rather cardboard performances for their archetypal roles. Claudia Gerini is Pilatus' wife (aptly named Claudia) who sympathisizes for the suffering of a holy man, and he plays this anachronistic bleeding heart liberal to a tee, with little explanation for why she empathisizes with Christ. The Jewish leaders and mobs are similarly flat, with no convincing reason articulated for their homicidally persistant anger towards Christ.
Many have denounced this film as being anti-Semetic, and while I hesitate to use that term, I cannot help but agree that the film helps support anti-Jewish sentiment -- partly by weighing in on a religious war that has been waging for centuries. The Jews are negatively depicted because Gibson does not bother to give them a three-dimensionality that allows the reader to see them as anything but 'the bad guy', and to call this film 'anti-Semetic', one must remember that much of the oppression the Jews suffered was rationalized by the belief that Jews were to blame for the death of Christ. It is therefore in this context that one must decide for oneself if Gibson is being out-and-out anti-Jewish, or merely promoting a pro-Christian message.
Overall, this movie seems to be a thinly veiled conversion effort to rejuvenate the ranks of Christianity and to reenthuse those already following the faith. It reinforces existing preconceptions, such as the idea that Christ was white, or that he spoke Aramaic, or even that he was crucified through tha hands (rather than through the wrists, that some have argued would have been more practical). The movie offers little to someone who does not already prescribe to the beliefs of Christianity, and while it is well put together (indicating a definite labour of love on Gibson's part), we're still not sure if this is messianic-level filmmaking, or an insanely monumental career-suicide.
What we are sure of is that Passion is a gruesome, shocking display of how grotesquely evil human nature can really be, as well as a controversial R-rated version of one of those Sunday morning Bible study specials.