The Passion of the Christ (2004, Mel Gibson)

Brief summary of the film

The Passion of the Christ is a 21st Century film which portrays the last twelve hours of Jesus Christ before he was crucified. The movie is in Aramaic and Latin and that definitely gives it a different feel. The movie seems to start in the middle of everything and we join in when Jesus is in the Garden of Gethsemane praying. Interesting enough and unlike other passion plays/movies, Satan appears to Jesus in the Garden and has a conversation with him. Jesus doesn’t really pay Satan too much attention and eventually Satan disappears.

In the beginning of the movie, we don’t see Judas betraying Jesus but we can assume it has already happened because Jesus is arrested and the movie takes a different turn. The Pharisee’s bring Jesus to Pilate so he can decide if he will be saved or condemned to death. The pharisee’s tell Pilate Jesus’ crime and but Pilate responds by handing the matter over to King Herod. Herod (who seems to be hung over or maybe recovering from a night of festivities) laughs at the matter, thinks Jesus is crazy, and has him sent back to Pilate.

Pilate gives the crowd a choice, Barabbas or Jesus – crowd picks Barabbas and Jesus is handed to the Roman solders to be whipped. This happens repeatedly with a strip of leather with spikes on it. He is whipped front and back and viewers watch as the blood oozes out of Jesus’ back and stomach. The solders inflict pain but are careful not to kill him (just yet). They bring him back to Pilate, who literally washes his hands and walks away. Jesus carries his cross and is eventually hung till his death. This movie has a lot of interesting symbols included in the midst of al the violence such as the snake that appeared in the garden while Jesus was praying. I’m not really sure what that was supposed to mean but If Satan had not appeared during that scene I would have thought the snake would have symbolized Satan’s presence in the garden with Jesus. When I see children in Jesus films, I usually think of what Jesus said in Matthew 19:14, Jesus said, "Let the little children come to me, and do not hinder them, for the kingdom of heaven belongs to such as these." In this movie, children are portrayed as little devils and Satan can be seen caring a child while Jesus is being whipped children. The children are also seen tormenting Judas to his death and image can be disturbing. Maybe Mel Gibson wanted us to see that evil can also be found in what looks innocent and If Satan can use a serpent, then why not a child.

Style and era it was made

This film was released in the United States on Ash Wednesday, April 25, 2004. I find it interesting that this movie would premier on a night when millions of people are beginning their forty days of prayer and fasting. Lent gives us time to reflect on the life and suffering of Christ. Some take this time to repent, meditate, and ask what Jesus would do? This movie is not in English but it was filmed in Aramaic and Latin. I believe this was a way for the film to show its authenticity. This film was well received and while Gibson says he made this film for the unbeliever, I believe it has an evangelical feel to it.

Films intentions and emphasis

“My intention for this film was to create a lasting work of art and to stimulate serious thought and reflection among diverse audiences of all backgrounds,” says Gibson. Gibson wanted to stimulate serious thought and reflection and that he did. The movie is rated R for “sequences of graphic violence” and blood is the result of this violence and in my opinion the intention.

"The ancients believed that blood was the seat of the emotions.” Blood is a universal, cultural, biblical, and sacred symbol that has different meanings for a lot of people. From the time Jesus is arrested, this movie shows a lot of blood. I’m not sure what’s worse, the violence or the amount of blood that is spilled. In the bible, blood is sometimes used metaphorically to present sacrifice and suffering. I would say Gibson wanted to use blood to stir up emotions of guilt. I also believe Gibson wanted his audience to think of the blood Jesus shed for the atonement of sins and also have an awareness of having done wrong or committed a crime, accompanied by feelings of shame and regret. Mel Gibson also says “my ultimate hope is that this story’s message of tremendous courage and sacrifice might inspire tolerance, love and forgiveness. We’re definitely in need of those things in today’s world.” I agree with Gibson that we are always in need of tolerance, love, and forgiveness but I don’t think this movie stirred up those feelings nor would I walk away thinking tolerance, love, and forgiveness can only be found in the church or through the suffering of Jesus Christ.

Audience for this movie

Maybe Mel Gibson was incorrect when he said he made this movie for the unbeliever because this film does not offer enough information about the life and teaching of Jesus to get an unbeliever to raise questions about faith and Christianity. This film starts in the middle and for the rest of the movie, we see a man that is tortured and does not have a problem hiding his mental and physical pain.

The perfect audience for this film would be evangelicals, biblical scholars, and church study groups. These audiences will probably have background information about what is going on without raising too many questions about who Jesus really is and why he suffered the way he did. Due to the violence, I would also add this movie is not appropriate for young children or maybe even the elderly. Passion is a word that means the suffering of Christ. Mel Gibson titled this film The Passion of the Christ and that is exactly what we saw, the suffering of Jesus Christ.

A Double-Bladed Axe: The Last Temptation of the Christ Cuts Both Ways

Robin Riley, writing in 2003, fifteen years after the release of Scorsese’s The Last Temptation of Christ, alleges that The Last Temptation “serves to sanction the persecution and victimization of religious conservatives.” The present piece finds the movie more enigmatic, contending that it may sit less comfortably with liberal Christian theologies that has been widely assumed. Five areas of tension will be explored. 1. The movie’s insistence on substitutionary atonement and blood sacrifice, an insistence ultimately articulated by a moribund Jesus. 2. Jesus’ explicit self-identification as God 3. The dualism of Jesus’ vision 4. The movie’s mythical purpose and ambiance. 5. Jesus’ encounter with St. Paul and implications for historical Jesus scholarship and progressive ecclesiology. The intention underlying this piece is not to fault the movie for the challenges it poses to the liberal theological commitments of this author but rather to acknowledge its theological complexity and to problematize the suggestion that the movie in itself, as opposed to reactions to it, consistently championed or attacked any clearly identifiable theological ilk.

First, I suggest that the movie endorses a view that the death of Jesus is willed by God. Jesus is a moribund figure whom we first encounter sleeping, in an arguable anticipation of death. Soon-after Jesus lugs the cross he has constructed for the gruesome execution of another man. Indeed, the movie oozes blood and is steeped in a culture or forensic sacrifice. The hand of death, that is, of the resuscitated Lazarus, strains to claim Jesus for the sepulchre. The first death of Lazarus and Jesus’ own eventual death are connected by the same shrill, blood-curdling keening. Jesus is prone to visits from beyond the grave with the master of the monastery, John the Baptist in the desert and Isaiah in Jerusalem. The script is explicit in its insistence upon the necessity of Jesus’ death. Jesus exclaims, “I have to be crucified. I have to be resurrected to save the world. Death is the door”, and in the movie’s final moments, “I want to be crucified.” I contend that the movie advances the position that God wills the passion and death of Jesus. This is conveyed principally through the demonization of the contrary position. When Jesus in his reverie escapes Golgotha, he asks “I don’t have to be sacrificed?”, the angel, who it transpires is Satan, responds “No, you don’t. God gave you life” and then “Your Father is the God of mercy, not of punishment. God stopped Abraham. He doesn’t want your blood.” Hence Satan endorses what a progressive theologian could easily have written. By way of example I point to Kathryn Tanner’s incarnation model of atonement. Tanner argues that the cross is not the will of God. Rather it is the very antithesis: the culmination of resistance to the mission of Jesus. In Tanner’s view, the ultimate impediment to Jesus’ mission has been mistaken for the mission itself. For Tanner, there is nothing of God in the plan to crucify Jesus. Rather, the divine is to be found in Jesus’ utter refusal to compromise his integrity despite the obstacle of the cross. Such as a view finds support in Moltmann’s image of the God who suffers the cross rather than mandating it from some safe vantage point in heaven and in Katherine Keller’s position that not only Jesus’ death but his life and teaching are salvific. Keller reflects upon the Christian creeds such as that espoused at Nicea and notes the emphasis on Jesus death and lack of reference to his salvific life. By way of contrast, in Last Temptation, Jesus’ life and teaching are not enough. Within the world of the movie, Jesus’ death is not an accident of history. It is more than the resistance of systemic evil to Jesus’ call for change. As Jerusalem burns, Judas leaves us in no doubt that Jesus has to die. “It is accomplished” only by the death of Jesus.

Second, the Jesus of Last Temptation, although tortured by a complex love-hate relationship with God, refers explicitly to this divinity in a way the Jesus of the canonical gospels never does. Pre-empting Chalcedon and Nicea, this Jesus roars at a high priest, “When I say ‘I’, Rabbi, I’m saying God!”, and later with reference to the coming of God, “He’s already here. I’m here.” The Jesus of the synoptic Gospels never makes such an explicit self-identification with God, preferring the ambiguous title, Son of Man. Even John’s Gospel with its high Christology and I-statements stops of such a direct claim. While Last Temptation undoubtedly portrays a human, carnal Jesus, its Christology is complex and enigmatic, posing a challenge to progressive Christianity’s claim, exemplified by the position of Marcus Borg, that the assertion of Jesus’ divinity gradually emerged from decades of reflection by the nascent Church upon the Resurrection experience. A further challenge to liberal Christology is evidenced by Jesus’ shift in emphasis from a message of love to the message of the axe. This leads us to the dualism evident in Dafoe turned Jesus.

At prayer in Gethsemane, Jesus refers to “the world we can see and the world we can’t”. I argue that Jesus’ mission in Last Temptation is more concerned with the invisible world. During the sermon on the mount, Jesus is more concerned with justice than “bread” but never explicates a connection between the two, that is, a concern for distributive justice, as though the justice in question is more eschatological than social. He exclaims that those who mourn will not need the comfort of people because they will have God to comfort them. Again, there is no implication that God might work through the compassion of humanity. This Jesus is not concerned with “freedom for Israel” but with “freedom for the soul”. Indeed, the movie is arguably more concerned with souls than bodies. The funeral prayers for the master of the monastery speak of the liberation of the soul from a redundant body. Lazarus returned from death is not quite possessed of le Joie de vivre and remarks cryptically of the difference between life and death, “Is there much difference?” Arguably, the movie takes a dim view of life, the body and sexuality. The married, widowed Jesus maintains moral stature until his implied tryst with Martha while Mary is away. This adultery is casually implied as though it for one who longed for marriage and children, it is the next logical digression down a slippery slope. The Jesus of “life in abundance” as advocated by Christian humanists such as Richard Rohr or Henri Nouwen is nowhere to be found in Last Temptation.

Stern et al write that “we find Scorsese quietly demythologizing the most important cultural icon in the history of the West.” On the contrary, I argue that Last Temptation is mythical both in ambiance and in purpose. The ambiance is infused with mythical symbols drawn from scripture and from the Catholic tradition: apple trees, serpents, stigmata, the innuendo of wine turning to blood at the last supper, Jesus’ exposition of what is impliedly the “sacred heart”, and Jesus’ miraculous surgery on the ear of the high priests’ servant. Also, the quotation from Kazantzaki’s novel as cited in the opening credits , suggests a mythical purpose for the movie. Claude Levi-Strauss argues that myth reflects a struggle between binaries. In this case, it is a dualistic struggle between spirit and flesh that is at stake. As noted by Paul Ricoeur, myth serves an etiological purpose, exposing in narrative form some existential tension and probing into its origins. In this sense, the movie is a myth. I must concede however that this point is not such a challenge for liberal theology since students of Bultmann have long realized that demythologizing always gives rise to re-mythologizing.

Finally we turn to the encounter with St. Paul in Jesus’ final reverie. Paul is portrayed unsympathetically as a liar whose style of delivery is hammy and impliedly manipulative. He smugly declares, “I created the truth out of what people needed and believed” and later, “Jesus Christ, Jesus of Nazareth, Messiah - not you! My Jesus is much more important and much more powerful.” This is a second instance in which the movie comes close to caricaturing positions held by progressive theologians and Jesus scholars. The distinction between the Jesus of history and the Christ of faith has been emphasized by Adolf von Harnack, Hans Kung, John Dominic Crossan, Walter Kasper and countless other scholarly voices operating both within and without the bounds of ecclesiological orthodoxy. Jesus’ encounter with Paul in Last Temptation casts this distinction is a most cynical light, implying not a gradual and authentic development of doctrine but downright deceit. It is a credit to this enigmatic movie however, that the scene remains sufficiently ambiguous to resist degeneration into outright parody of a position held by liberals that maintains a distinction between the Jesus of history and the Christ of faith. Such a parody may have curried some favor with conservative critics of the movie, had it been offered.
In conclusion, it may be a tribute to Scorsese’s The Last Temptation of Christ that, while the movie has widely publicized for its challenges to what be regarded as conservative theology, it is no mere vehicle for what might be regarded as liberal theology. On the contrary, it faces liberal theology with a host of challenges. 1. The movie casts critical light on incarnational theologies that seek to emphasize the value of Jesus life and not only his death. 2. It presents a Jesus who struggles in his relationship with the deity but who openly asserts his own divinity, far exceeding the claims of the canonical gospels. 3. In contrast with creation theology, a sacramental emphasis on the co-presence of the divine in all that is, and a concern for social justice in the here and now, Last Temptation reveals Jesus as a dualist who is more concerned with souls, the invisible world and death. 4. The movie serves the etiological purpose of a myth rehearsing in narrative form the existential struggle between spirit and flesh. In addition, the mise-en-scène is littered with symbolism derived from mythology. 5. The movie casts in a cynical light the distinction between the historical mission of Jesus and post-resurrection developments. Jesus’ encounter with Paul implies that the Christ of faith, when distinguished from biolographical facts concerning Jesus of Nazareth, is the product of deceit rather than authentic theological development. The fact that progressive Christians for the most part refrained from protesting may stand as testimony to their openness to challenge and critique.

Gibson’s The Passion of the Christ? Successful Guilt-Trip or Bad Horror-Movie?

Why did Mel Gibson’s The Passion of the Christ move some to conversion or repentance while leaving others cold? While acknowledging that a plethora of personal, relational and cultural factors contribute to the manner in which any individual receives a movie, this piece contrasts two possible responses. First it considers the response of those who buy into a theology of substitutionary atonement. This group includes most Evangelical Christians and also the “unchurched” who are often familiar with the assumption that “Jesus died for our sins” and have not subjected this position to critical reflection. Second, I consider the reaction of those who have reservations about models of atonement rooted in vicarious blood-letting and either reject or qualify such theologies. This group, I will argue is more likely to experience The Passion as horror movie than as a call to repentance.

There may be a curious sense in which Evangelical Christians and the “unchurched” are both likely to endorse a theology of substitutionary atonement, that is, the view that Jesus died to pay a debt incurred for all humankind by the sin of Adam and Eve. Evangelicals generally reject other models of redemption while the unchurched are often unaware of the theological alternatives. While defending himself against the charge of anti-Semitism, Gibson revealed his thinking on blood atonement. Gibson was asked about the choice to maintain in the script the words from Matthew’s Gospel, "His blood upon us and on our children!" (Mt. 27:25) but not to include this line in the subtitles. Gibson’s response was:

"I wanted it in. My brother said I was wimping out if I didn't include it. But, man, if I included that in there, they'd be coming after me at my house. They'd come to kill me." (The New Yorker, September 7, 2003, Perri Dorset)

On another occasion, Gibson elaborated with regard to this passage:

"It's one little passage, and I believe it, but I don't and never have believed it refers to Jews, and implicates them in any sort of curse. It's directed at all of us, all men who were there, and all that came after. His blood is on us, and that's what Jesus wanted." (Terry Lawson, "Mel Gibson and Other ‘Passion’ Film-makers say the Movie was Guided by Faith", Detroit Free Press, 2004).

Hence Gibson sees his audience as in some sense responsible for the violence on screen. Gibson claimed that the made the movie primarily with the unchurched in mind, a group for whom the guilt-trip might evoke “prodigal” pasts. (Leslie Smith, Living in the World but not of the World Walnut Creek: Alta Mira Press, 2004, p. 47)

To be fair, atonement theology takes many forms including St. Anselm’s theory of substitutionary atonement wherein God is no sadist baying for blood but a rather impotent deity constrained by some cosmic version of the feudal honor code from forgiving the sin of humanity. In contrast, some models of substitutionary atonement in modern fundamentalism purport to know the will of a God who preordained the suffering and death of Jesus. Such views persist in contemporary ultra-conservative Catholicism, for example, in the work of Scott Hahn. The point for this movie is that such theology can lead to the conviction that ones own sins somewhat contributed to one of those lashes, blows, nails, thorns or falls.

The irony is that for the vast majority of viewers, Jesus’ blood sacrifice was, in Gibson’s view, ineffective. Peter J. Boyer's “The Jesus War: Mel Gibson & "The Passion" (9-15-03) identifies a source of major dissension that was swept under the shroud. Boyer writes:

"I told Gibson that I am a Protestant, and asked whether his pre-Vatican II world view disqualified me from eternal salvation. " He paused. 'There is no salvation for those outside the Church,' he said. 'I believe it.' He explained, 'Put it this way. My wife is a saint. She's a much better person than I am. Honestly. She's, like, Episcopalian, Church of England. She prays, she believes in God, she knows Jesus, she believes in that stuff. And it's just not fair if she doesn't make it, she's better than I am. But that is a pronouncement from the chair. I go with it.”

On a related note, whether or not the Passion can fairly be described as anti-Semitic, Gibson’s remarks may indicate the eschatological fate he imagines to lie in store of Jews. Gibson rejects Vatican Two’s Declaration on the Church’s Relation to Non-Christian Religion (Nostra Aetate). Still, presumably Gibson grants salvation for Jews like Miriam of Nazareth a.k.a. Mary the Mother of God, Cephas Son of Zebedee a.k.a. St. Peter, the other apostles and the patriarchs and prophets of the Hebrew Bible. At least, Gibson concedes Resurrection to Jesus –Bar –Joseph from Nazareth.

I posit that the movie may be received very differently by those who either reject or significantly qualify theologies of blood atonement. Such positions include those that locate the savific value of Jesus death in its moral example, those who emphasize the value of Jesus’ life and who see the cross as the culmination of evil, rather than of God’s will, and those who appeal to the Biblical understanding of blood sacrifice as celebratory, reuniting blood (signifying life) with the giver of life. Those who embrace the insights of the thrust of modern biblical scholarship are unlikely to view Jesus’ death as payment for the personal sins of a historical Adam and Eve or for any individual living or deceased. Some might point to the role of systemic/ institutional/ social sin in bringing about the death of Jesus. These and other interpretations of the death of Jesus other than substitutionary atonement are not conducive to a personal guilt-trip. Indeed for viewers so persuaded, the movie may hold more in common with the genre of the horror-movie. By contrast, it could be argued that the Evangelical audience is likely to be less au fait with horror movies and hence less prone to the conditioned stock-responses to which that genre can give rise.

This movie exhibits elements of the two sub-genres of “slasher” movie and supernatural thriller. The movie out-bleeds most slasher movies, arguably numbing the viewer to its effects. A classification of the movie as a supernatural thriller reflects a Satanic presence, manifested in apparently feminine form, arguably impelling the relentless assault on Jesus. Indeed, Jesus’ adversaries, Roman and Jewish behave as though possessed, their apparent delight in unspeakable violence otherwise inexplicable. A legion of demons infests the movie, its presence sometimes ambiguous as to whether an objective manifestation or the subjective nightmare of a character is being conveyed.

It was my initial intention to make the claim that a movie received as a horror-movie must fail to move the religious sensibilities of a media-savy audience. However it may be fairer to say that a bad horror movie cannot move religious sensibilities. This qualification may be appropriate since, in the sub-genre of the supernatural thriller, particularly those concerned with the battle between Christians and oppression by supernatural evil, some powerful movies are to be found. The last bastion of the “hero priest” may be in this subgenre. This is be true to some extent for The Exorcist (1973, William Friedkin) but, even more so, I would argue for The Possession of Emily Rose (2005, Scott Derrickson,) and The Rite (2011, Mikael Håfstrom) both movies claiming some basis in actual cases (as is also the case for The Exorcist) These movies testify to the courage and selflessness of the exorcists who are inspirational, Christ-like figures and fully developed characters with whom the viewer might empathize. Even zombie movies, notably Twenty-Eight Days Later (2002, Danny Boyle) can, albeit rarely, poignantly rehearse the nobleness of self-sacrifice in the face of hopeless adversity. This acknowledgment of the religious possibilities conceivably possible in the genre broadly termed “horror” may be all the more damning for The Passion.

In conclusion, it may be for the following reasons that The Passion fails to move the religious sensibilities of many: (1) Critical thinking kicks in, raising questions about the salvific value of blood-letting so that a visceral reaction is supplanted by an intellectual one. (2) The excessive blood and violence approach the farcical and numbs the sensibilities of the viewer. (3) The lack of character development inhibits identification with a credibly human Jesus. (4) Absent also is the development of an agenda of hatred, making it difficult to comprehend the motives of Jesus’ torturers. Instead we witness mindless brutality by an array of ghouls who seem to have strayed off the set of Dawn of the Dead to which The Passion would yield its box-office position. (5) Any depiction of intelligible human motivation seems to be replaced by an implied supernatural influence. (6) The “slasher” element and the “exorcist” element combine so that some receive the work as a horror movie. With some notable exceptions, the conventions of the horror movie offer a safe distance between viewer and action so that the savy viewer is unlikely to be cut to the core, each time the zombie’s devour another victim. The movie may offer an effective guilt-trip for those who believe their personal sins contributed to the execution of Jesus. On the other hand, for those who relate the events upon which the movie is based to institutional evil and moral complexity, the mise-en-scène is too remote from their concerns to evoke much more than distaste at the spectacle of an hour-long slaughter.

Jesus Christ Superstar?

Who is the Superstar Jesus or Judas?

This 1973 film starring Ted Neely as Jesus is based on an earlier Broadway “rock opera” by Andrew Lloyd Webber, with lyrics by Tim Rice.

The film was filmed on location in Israel though the sets are ambiguous in nature and do not represent any true historical locations.

The cast is made up of a very stereotypical late 60’ early 70’s group of ragtag hippy style actors who are members of a fictitious acting troupe who comes upon this desert setting and immediately begins to set up for the production. Quickly the actors are in costume and the production begins. It is obvious from the very beginning that this film unlike others that have been reviewed earlier here will have a unique emphasis on Judas. The film follows the story of Christ through to his crucifixion and death from the viewpoint of Judas. As with other films of the era there is no resurrection scene and the film leaves the viewer to struggle with the questions of whom Christ was for themselves.

Key Characters-

Jesus Christ (Ted Neely)

- In Jesus Christ Superstar Nelly brings a new look and feel to the role of Jesus. Neely truly puts the rock into rock Opera with his strong vocals matching up with Weber’s and Rice’s music and lyrics. The Feel of Jesus in this film is different then others as Neely play him as more of an agnsty teen then the childlike or disconnected heavenly figures that viewers have experienced in other films. The role certainly was one that Neely found a connection with as he has continued on Broadway and many touring companies of the live production of the rock opera.

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Judas Iscariot (Carl Anderson)

- In a departure from the stage actor role of Judas played by Ben Vereen we see Carl Anderson cast to take on what in this film is the lead role of Judas Iscariot. Anderson brings strong vocals and a commanding presence to the role of Judas. We see Judas in this film in a completely different light then other Jesus films as he is a key role and in many ways the main role in this film with his story even at many times eclipsing the story of Christ. Viewers see Judas as conflicted between his view of Jesus as a revolutionary come to change the structures of the day and his role as messiah. As Jesus comes closer to fulfilling his role as messiah Judas becomes angry with him and frustrated that he is deviating form “the plan.” Judas over and over again talks about what a great man Jesus is and all that he can do for the poor and the oppressed Jews of the day. Viewers find that the ultimate reason for his betrayal to be his belief that Jesus has completely lost touch with the reality of what Judas believes to be his mission and that he has become more dangerous to himself and his followers. The climax of this comes in Judas’ suicide and subsequent return with is reprise of the title song Jesus Christ Superstar.

Key Scenes-

There are many key scenes in which the viewer must struggle with if this is or is not the story of the life and teaching of Jesus Christ or rather the story of Judas Iscariot. SO the Question at hand is Who is the real Superstar of Jesus Christ Superstar?

The First major musical piece of the film is Jesus singing about his call and role as savior of the world but rather Judas critiquing Jesus work and how it is not in line with his vision of what “the plan” should be and the way Jesus should be acting.

Key scenes that illustrate Judas struggle and showing the focus of the film on Judas and his struggle include when Mary is Anointing Jesus with Oil, the Cleansing of the Temple, Judas Suicide, and the final Closing Scene that includes Judas reprise of the Title Song Jesus Christ Superstar.

- Judas struggles with the idea that Mary would lavish Jesus with expensive oil that he believes could feed many of the poor. Viewers must wrestle with Jesus response that the poor will always be with us. In this scene it is very easy for viewers to sympathize with Judas and become confused and annoyed by Jesus response.

- - In the Cleansing of the Temple we again see Jesus again deviate from “the plan” when he offends the Jewish and Roman authorities. Judas here is upset believing that Jesus has brought unwanted and dangerous attention to their mission. The scene certainly feels awkward and again viewers are forced to think about if Judas's point makes scene or not.

- - In this film Judas Suicide is more of a focus then other films we have reviewed so far. This clearly shows the filmmakers focus on Judas. In many ways some viewers could argue that Judas death is larger in this film the that of Jesus.

- - The final Reprise again puts Jesus and Judas toe to toe and places Judas as the central figure questioning why everything went so wrong and how they got to the place that Jesus had to die and how the entire plan fell apart.

Given that there is no resurrection scene and Judas reprise and Jesus death ends the films as viewers watch the actors silently load back up their sets and costumes onto their bus and leave without Neely the ending focus remains Judas’s questions. Viewers must ask why such a focus on Judas? Is it the historical Judas that the filmmakers so wanted viewers to focus on or is it that in some ways Judas and his questions simply represent the questions that viewers today continue to ask about who Jesus was and what his life and mission was for the world?

GodSpell

Godspell or God-awful? 
The original movie was released in 1973 and was adapted from an off-Broadway play created by John-Michael Tebelak. The movie takes place in modern day New York City with a motley crew of ten troubadours traipsing around the cities famous land marks dancing, singing, and acting out skits of the parables from the book of Matthew. When it was originally released, it received good reviews and relatively more acclaim than the similarly biblilically-insired the musical Jesus Christ Superstar. It has also been reenacted more often by churches and youth groups, who use it for evangelism and teaching purposes.

The film begins with the hustle and bustle of the normal city life, highlighting the main characters as they go about their worldly pursuits. Then here comes over the middle of the Brooklyn Bridge a colorfully clad man pulling a cart full of junk. Is this man homeless? Here he is singing and happily smiling, enjoying his leisurely walk, as he passes and you see his coat of many colors. As he passes, one sees a fish embroidered on the back of it. It made me think, this must be Jesus. It is a movie about Jesus, isn’t it? But no, this character ends up being as psychedelic as his coat, and maybe a little schizophrenic since he ends up playing more than one part in the movie.

His first character is John the Baptist, calling the disciples from their mundane existence in the big city to the fountain in Central Park to be baptized by him. These new additions to the play come skipping to the park by the sound of a ram’s horn being blown by our John that only they hear. As they traverse toward the park they throw off their conservative attire and implements of their previous life. All inhibitions are washed away as they play in the water fountain not only to be baptized by John but by one another. It is as if they are no longer the responsible adults of their previous existence but are regressing to a more youthful, carefree existence of children.

At first I had hope for this film, especially since I am a fan of musicals and especially Jesus Christ Superstar, but it seemed that from this point forward except for some good musical numbers I could not shake the idea that I was watching a rendition of Jesus’ life by the Ringling Brothers and Barnum & Bailey’s Circus.

Jesus pops in on John and these unsuspecting disciples across from the fountain. He is made-up as either a clown or a mime. He has John baptize him and as he come up out of the water he is now dressed more as a clown with a big ‘S’ on his shirt. Is this Super Jesus?

All the disciples now too are clothed as multi-colorful clowns. They now skip off with one another following Jesus as one maybe watching Sesame Street, till they come to a junkyard were they begin to play and act out parables. They end up cleaning up and painting the junkyard as if it is some type of play house for their group; still reminding me of Sesame Street. They eventually skip out all over the city acting out parables and singing songs as they move around a people-less New York.

My confusion increases as they not only sing and perform, but enact teachings from scripture. Who is actually doing the teaching, Jesus or these troubadour disciples? They teach each other as much as he does.

At the end of the movie, John, who has now somehow magically changed into Judas has turned Jesus in to the authorities, who are never seen. This is maybe the only moving moment of the movie: as Judas comes with the authorities, he shows reluctance in coming to Jesus. Jesus beckons him forward and Judas through himself at Jesus as to say he is sorry. It is Jesus who kisses Judas’ checks not the other way around. It is then Judas who ties Jesus to the fence of their play yard to be hanged. All the other players cry and wail as they grab hold of the fence and convulse with Jesus as he dies. When dawn come they all take down their Jesus and carry him to through the streets of the people-less city, until they turn the corner and are lost in the crowd as the people again reappear.

Theology 
The movie is based on the gospel of Matthew. The most theological part is the use of the most parables and teachings in a film that we have seen so far. As for how true to the text the movie portrays, I would have to say this is not one to watch if looking for particular insight into the historical life of Jesus or a Biblical reneactment. In a little more depth one could see a hint of Liberation Theology as the disciples are called out of the world, changed through their relationship with Jesus, and then sent back into the world to carry the good news of Christ with them. I really hate that the passion and the resurrection are not portrayed in this story well or at all, since this is one of the most theologically relevant themes in Christianity. This can leave many wondering if Jesus was just a great teacher, a flash-in–the-pan or even relevant in the world today.


Final Thoughts
Personally, I see this movie aimed at a young audience. The fun attitude of the troubadours, the short skits of the parables, and the songs would appeal to this group. For those seeking a more deep theology, textual portrayal of the life of Jesus, I would look elsewhere. However, one may find use of particular clips of the movie helpful that could be used in a teaching lesson or during a sermon . As a minister, I can imagine that it may have entertainment value but this movie was one of only two movies in my life that I could have fallen asleep in. Even though I did enjoy some of the songs, those I could have watched on YouTube;. the film as a whole is not engaging. In the end, it is probably not worth your movie-watching time.

Jesus the Revolutionary

The Italian filmmaker Pier Paolo Pasolini seemed on the surface an unlikely suspect to make a Jesus film. Marxist, atheist, and openly gay, at the time Pasolini decided to make a film based on the Book of Matthew, he was considered a controversial and even dangerous filmmaker by Italian authorities.

Enrique Irazoqui as Jesus, 1964

Yet this 1964 film, The Gospel According to St. Matthew (Il Vangelo Secondo Matteo), is often cited as one of the most beloved films about Jesus by believers and non-believers alike. Without question the 1960s Jesus film that is most faithful to scripture, nearly all of its dialogue comes straight from the New Testament. When other films dress up their dramatic moments through bombastic score or saccharine lighting, this film is understated, simple, reverent. 

Miracles happen with no fanfare at all; they simply happen, so quickly that it is startling and effective. Likely because Pasolini was limiting himself to dialogue included in scripture, there are often long stretches of onscreen silence, which play beautifully.

My favorite use of silence is in the exquisite opening scene. An anguished Joseph stares at an unhappy and mute teenaged Mary in a grotto, trying to fathom how she could betray him. He finally stumbles away from her house and, in confusion, falls asleep, his brow furrowed. The first audible dialogue of the entire film is that of the angel appearing to him.

The film has a distinct Marxian sympathy for the poor, and much screen time is devoted to the quiet faces of those everyday people who encounter Jesus in his ministry. Even the most unlikely characters -- the uneasy soldiers sent by Herod to massacre the innocent male children of Bethlehem, for example -- are shot by Pasolini with compassion and tenderness. Children and the elderly are in nearly every scene. This, Pasolini wants to emphasize, is the story of the poor, and of Jesus's dedication to them.  Most of Pasolini's actors were nonprofessionals; many were laborers themselves. His own elderly mother plays the role of Jesus's mother as an older woman.

Pasolini's Jesus (played by a Spanish graduate student, Enrique Irazoqui) is unflinchingly passionate, angry, and insistent upon justice. We see stories from scripture rarely enacted in other Jesus films. Pasolini includes the cinematically-unloved cursing of the fig tree, for example. In strident tones, Jesus also announces he comes not in peace, but to bring a sword -- a controversial line from scripture that bucks against the interpretation of Jesus as a placid peacemaker in films like King of Kings. 


Jesus also appears to turn his back on his saintly mother and family, a scene derived from scripture (Matthew 12:46-50) to which Pasolini gives particular emphasis. For American Christian audiences, a Jesus who doesn't seem to care much about his own family probably raises hackles. But it might provoke interesting questions about the way biological families are depicted in scripture. 

Margherita Caruso as Mary at sixteen

And indeed, for church discussion groups or academic classrooms, this film presents many fascinating questions. As a film with a decidedly Marxist agenda, what are we to make of its relative fidelity to scripture? Does it distort scripture? Or does it remind us of aspects of scripture American Christians often conveniently ignore? It can be fun to watch the film with the New Testament open, to see where changes in emphasis and order have arisen.

There is also the matter of the film's cryptic dedication to Pope John XXIII, which has been interpreted as tongue-in-cheek, sincerely reverent, or a nose-thumbing to Pasolini's Communist friends, many of whom argued Jesus was a sell-out subject for a supposedly revolutionary filmmaker.

The film is in Italian, although available with English subtitles, and it is in black and white, shot in a neorealist, documentary style. Of special note is its musical score, which includes Bach, the "Gloria" from a Congolese Mass, and Odetta's "Sometimes I Feel Like A Motherless Child."

All in all, this is a highly, highly recommended film -- in fact, an absolute must -- for anyone seriously interested in films or retellings of the life of Jesus.

Great Story, Boring Movie

The title of this film says it all. George Stevens intended his 1965 epic The Greatest Story Ever Told to be as majestic as its subject matter. Accordingly, every aspect of its production was taken to the extreme. The enterprise cost $20 million – more than any other film made in the U.S. to that point – with extensive pre-production, a star-studded cast, massive sets, and meticulous editing. Stevens wanted everything to be perfect, the greatest telling of the greatest story. His ambitious title also suggests an intention to tell a story with universal significance, in an increasingly pluralistic world. Yet, in spite of all the hype, The Greatest Story was a box-office flop, recovering only 17% of its production costs. Although contemporary reviews were mixed, later critics have generally seen it as a failure of Titanic proportions, which warned future filmmakers to steer clear of biblical epics. I will first examine what the film attempted, then consider why it failed.

“The Light Shines in the Darkness”

Stevens draws heavily from the Gospel of John. The film opens with a painting in a cathedral, accompanied by the beloved prologue: “In the beginning was the Word...” We see a dark screen, and gradually a light appears - first the star of Bethlehem, then a candle in the stable. Lest we miss the obvious, the narrator continues, “The light shines in the darkness, but the darkness grasped it not.” Greatest Story follows this “light” through his ministry, emphasizing Jesus' teachings and his spirituality. Likewise, we see the division between those “in the light,” who recognize Jesus as the Christ, and those “in the dark,” who do not “grasp” Jesus' true identity. The lighting in this film is very strategic. Jesus is always lit, while his opponents appear in the dark. Jesus and the receptive crowds (whom John the Baptist calls “decent sinners”) are clothed in shades of white, while his opponents wear dark colors. Often Von Sydow appears to be the source of light, as at the Last Supper, where the disciples on either side are lit from different directions, centering on Jesus, and a backlit window provides a halo effect.

Stern et. al. rightly note that Stevens's primary interest is the “Christ of faith,” rather than the “Jesus of history.” Perhaps this Jesus film, which premiered only four years after the very successful (and very historical) King of Kings, is partly a reaction against the excesses of the “quest for the historical Jesus.” Though in general the film attempts historical accuracy, there are obvious exceptions. Most strikingly, it is set not in Palestine, but in the American southwest! Beyond aesthetics, the decision to transplant the Jesus story suggests that its significance lies not in historical particularity but in a universal ideal.

“Seeing,” “Knowing,” and Defamiliarization

The film closes as it began, with a painting of the exalted Christ in a cathedral. This framing device (though cheesy) conveys a significant message about the film's purpose: Stevens defamiliarizes Jesus, challenging us to rethink the “great story” we thought we knew. Stern's claim that “no change has taken place from beginning to end” (143-144) is true only in terms of the film's narrative. The “change” Stevens intends is within the audience (“the kingdom of God is within you”).

Toward this end, Stevens employs the related Johannine tropes of “seeing” and “knowing.” “Old Aram,” who illustrates two different kinds of sight – physical and spiritual - comes from John 9. Stevens adds ambiguity about the precise moment Aram can see – is it in Nazareth or at Bethany? The latter seems more likely; the resurrection of Lazarus “opens his eyes” to Jesus' identity. Aram's testimony - "I was blind and now I see!” - receives an emphatic place, as the “last word” of the first half of the film. Similarly, “knowing” does not equal perceiving. The people of Nazareth fail to understand Jesus because they think they know him (c. Jn. 6:42; 1:12). At Jesus' trial, Caiaphas responds to Aram, “We know where he comes from!” This exchange evokes John 9 (c. 6:42; 7:27-29; 8:14). Only those who are in the light know Jesus. For those who reject the truth, “The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness grasped it not” (Jn. 1:5, quoted in opening scene).

The film's portrayal of miracles reflects the same idea - seeing (physical sight) is not believing (spiritual insight). On the two occasions when unbelievers demand a miracle, Jesus refuses (Nazareth and Herod's palace). Stevens similarly denies the audience direct sight of the miraculous. We see only four miracles (crippled man, bleeding woman, Aram, Lazarus), yet we hardly see even these. Most intriguing is the portrayal of Lazarus's resurrection; at no point does the audience see Lazarus! We must accept the testimony of witnesses. Likewise, even the resurrection of Jesus is not directly portrayed. Nor are there angels at the tomb, but only the “young man” of Mark's account. Nevertheless, all of the faithful believe immediately, even though they have not seen the resurrected Christ (c. Jn. 20:8). We cannot help but recall John 20:29: “Blessed are those who have not seen and yet have believed.” The message would not have been lost on Stevens's (intended) audience.

Christology

I suggest that the ultimate failure of Stevens's film arises from its christology. By exacerbating the gnostic tendencies in John, Stevens has given us an Apollinarian Jesus, who has a human body but not a human mind. His bourgeois European accent separates him from those around him, and his measured, sonorous voice seems more Sinai than Nazareth. The camera often points up at him, and we frequently see him elevated above the crowds (as, for example, at the Sermon on the Mount and the triumphal entry). James the Younger (Anderson) introduces a little refreshing levity, but his attempts to engage Jesus on a human level utterly fail. Similar exchanges with Peter, Matthew, and Martha fall flat, because Von Sydow's Jesus is more like an embodied doctrine (“Word”) than a human being.

He is also repellingly sanctimonious. His central message - “don't judge,” “don't worry,” “love one another” - contrasts with a holier-than-thou teacher who demands what humans cannot give. He judges Lazarus unworthy to be a disciple, because he will not give up everything he has and adopt Jesus' ascetic lifestyle. Lazarus looks to his sisters, who rely on him for support, and replies dejectedly, “What man can do that?” Then the holy posse leaves, and we see them walking by the sea barefooted, free of worldly obligations. Jesus' stoic disregard for external troubles seems at odds with his love commandment. While Jesus is teaching his little circle under a bridge, we see Roman soldiers passing overhead. The inside-outside dichotomy also works against Stevens; this Jesus seems to inhabit an ideal realm, separate from the “real world” within the stone confines of city buildings. Von Sydow preaches an impossible (and probably irresponsible) quietism.

If this Jesus is not very human, is he divine? Not necessarily. The question of Jesus-as-God versus Jesus-as-universal-ideal is left open, a prudent choice for the increasingly diverse theological climate of the 1960s. The quotation of John 12 (“unless a grain of wheat...”) suggests that the importance of Christ's passion is that it inspires an enduring movement. Significantly, we do not see the resurrected Christ until the ascension; a viewer may understand the resurrection literally, symbolically, or both. The important thing is the “Christ of faith,” the idea of Christ, not the historical person Jesus of Nazareth. Unfortunately for Stevens, an idea makes a boring protagonist!

What (Else) Went Wrong?

It seems that Stevens tries too hard to make his story the “greatest;” the excess squelches the film's merits. The epic is simply too long, with painfully slow pacing. Slow dialogue, long pauses, gradual fade-in transitions, and very traditional camera pans provide no relief from hours of Von Sydow's tedious messiahship. Stevens's over-the-top attempt at reverence sometimes backfires. Glaring examples are the “Hallelujah Chorus” and Jesus' Monty Python-esque ascent into the clouds.

Another failure-by-excess is the high-profile cast, which the original audiences found distracting. Nearly every important star in 1960s Hollywood makes an appearance, sometimes in only a brief cameo. The worst blunder of the entire film is John Wayne's drawling, “Surely, this man was the Son of God!”

Finally, this film had the misfortune of premiering at precisely the wrong time. Stevens appealed to the same traditional Christian audience which had flocked to the two King of Kings features (1927 and 1961). By the mid-sixties, the religious climate had changed. Almost contemporaneously with Greatest Story's premier, the cover of Time featured Altizer and the “death of God.” Postmodern Americans were growing weary of traditional religion, and suspicious of meta-narratives. “The Greatest Story Ever Told” proclaims “meta-narrative” in neon lights.

“The Medium is the Message"

If we examine this film according the Marshall McCluhan's famous insight, we may find another reason for its failure. For one thing, this is the first of our class films based on a novel; perhaps what translates to slow pacing on the silver screen would have captivated our imaginations between lines of print. More fundamentally, “medium” and (intended) “message” contradict one another. The film's central metaphor involves perspective; those in the light see Jesus for who he really is, while those in the dark cannot. The difference is not physical sight but spiritual insight. The message is faith, but the medium is spectacle. Stevens has tried to make the Christ of faith relevant by arraying him in worldly splendor. Instead, the effect is a parodic contradiction, like Herod's scarlet cloak.