THE PASSION OF THE CHRIST
--John McEwen
There has been no end to the controversy surrounding Mel Gibson’s
brutal retelling of the most famous story in Christian theology,
The Passion Of The Christ, with some people fearing that
it could provoke anti-Semitic attitudes among its viewers (this
feeling is influenced, no doubt, by Gibson’s father’s
openly anti-Semitic stance). Although Gibson, a devout Roman Catholic,
has worked tirelessly to dissuade critics from this viewpoint,
allowing not only the Pope but international Jewish leaders to
preview the film, all of whom have endorsed it, some still hold
the opinion that it could cause trouble, but I think this argument
is rather silly. While it is admittedly the most violent depiction
of the Passion story I’ve ever seen—and let’s face
it, it’s a violent story—I don’t believe it is
any more anti-Semitic than any other such film. It simply retells
the account told in the Gospels (adapted by Gibson and co-writer
Benedict Fitzgerald), and anyone who thinks it maligns the Jews,
well...I think they’d have to take that up with the authors
of the source text.
Frankly, almost everyone but Jesus and a few of his followers
are painted in a not-too-flattering light in this story—the
Jews, the Romans, even the most devoted followers of Jesus who
so abruptly turned on him in the end. But if a film like this
is to have any validity, it must portray the Jews as they were
depicted in the Bible, i.e., as devout religious leaders who felt
Jesus was a common blasphemer and were fearful that his widespread
acceptance among the Jewish population would bring about a swift
retribution from the ruling class, and as equally fearful peasants
who knew that associating with him could lead to their own executions,
if not by their local leaders then by the Romans who controlled
them. In a way, it is man—not the Jews, not the Romans, but
the human race itself—which is the perpetual villain in this
story; it is all who sin and do not repent who are guilty, and
this story simply depicts the first generation who knowingly did
so.
Regardless of the film’s perceived religious bias, however,
there is no doubt that in terms of acting, direction, and production
values, it is up there with the greatest films of the genre. This
is one of those pivotal moments in a director’s career, like
Schindler’s List was for Spielberg, where the filmmaker
cannot possibly hide his, well, passion for the subject
matter. This movie has been Gibson’s pet project for years,
and his love shines through it with such clarity one cannot help
but be swept up in its spiritual grandeur; his devotion would
not allow him to make this a substandard film. The fact that the
film’s dialogue is entirely in Aramaic and Latin (and a little
Hebrew) lends an authenticity not usually present in English-speaking
movies on this subject, and the settings, costumes, and cinematography
(by Caleb Deschanel) are without flaw.
The acting is no less superior; although the film is performed
almost entirely by Italian actors who will not exactly be household
names to American moviegoers, they all, without exception, perform
their roles with the commensurate sense of spiritual gravity for
the subject matter. The film’s star, James Caviezel (another
devout Catholic), endows his Jesus with not only the embodiment
of love and compassion that are the standard prerequisites, but
also delves into more human characteristics, some of which are
usually downplayed, like the fear, the anxiety, and the ambivalence
toward his mission that would cause most of us earthly types to
throw in the towel. Caviezel, who reportedly suffered several
injuries during filming (including a separated shoulder, a lightning
strike, and a few actual lashes from the whip), is increasingly
bloody and broken throughout the film, which begins at Gethsemane
and progresses through the resurrection, but also has numerous
flashbacks thrown in to include important scriptural references
and flesh out some of the supporting characters. Even as we see
him being punched, kicked, whipped, and nailed, we return to the
clean and unmolested Jesus for these flashback scenes, each of
which usually involves his interaction with some particular disciple
or follower, the sweet memory of which is brought into sharp relief
when we return to the character’s witness of the brutal present.
In this way, we learn some of the well-known (and some less well-known)
details about the Virgin Mary (Maia Morgenstern), Peter (Francesco
De Vito), Mary Magdalene (Monica Belluci), Judas (Lucia Lionello),
and others. Also offering superb performances are Mattia Sbragia
as Jewish high priest Caiphas, Hristo Shopov as Pontius Pilate
(who is portrayed with a little more compassion than is probably
standard), and Claudia Gerini as Pilate’s wife, whose sympathy
toward Jesus’ mother and Mary Magdalene informs one of the
most touching scenes in the movie. Finally, the spectral presence
of Satan (Rosalinda Celentano) appears at crucial moments throughout
the film; although it is played by a woman, the cloaked figure
is really not sex-specific, and its scenes are usually attended
by some unsettling visual images. Here is where Gibson allows
himself to add some computer-generated artistic flourishes, emphasized
by the ominous music of John Debney, whose score adds to the film’s
emotional impact.
The brutality is another particularly controversial and affecting
portion of this film; while most artworks and movies involving
the Crucifixion have sanitized the violence somewhat, perhaps
out of respect for the subject, Gibson chose to show no such deference
here. Since his treatment chronicles the passion of Jesus
(that is, the suffering), the director shows the cruelty in unflinchingly
graphic detail. In fact, I can agree with some critics’ charges
that the director’s approach may be somewhat excessive in
terms of violence; I can understand the desire not to sugar-coat
what was supposedly done to Jesus, especially if one desires to
impress on the viewer the gravity of the sacrifice involved, but
at times it almost seems Gibson is emphasizing the sadism at the
expense of the larger story. The scourging at the pillar, for
instance, is a particularly bloody scene that goes on so long,
with the vicious Roman soldiers enjoying their task so much, that
it begins to strain the limits of necessity, pulling focus away
from Christ’s pain and devolving into a pointless blood bath.
This movie is no more anti-Jewish than Jesus Of Nazareth, or King Of Kings, or Jesus Christ Superstar, or The Greatest Story Ever Told. But it is definitely more graphic, and therefore more disturbing, than any of those. Devout Christians and devout movie lovers alike may want to see this film, and may want to take their children, just for the sake of education. But be aware that if you do, you may be sitting up late at night comforting a horrified nightmare sufferer. And it may upset your kids, too. ****½
