Two Reviews of The Passion
I’ve devoted a remarkable amount of space to The Passion, and it’s time to bring some closure to that chapter by posting two brief reviews of the movie. Please read them both, and thanks to all of you who have read my reviews of other “Jesus movies” and sent along notes of encouragement.
*Minor Spoilers*
Review #1: The Passion: Prayer, Cinema and The Haunting of the World
The Passion is a cinematic Eucharistic meditation that focuses on the last 12 hours of Jesus’ life. In that sense, it is an unusual film to review as cinema, as it doesn’t particularly play by the rules, and really isn’t looking to entertain. My son found The Passion boring in many places, and I can easily see why he thought so. Gibson’s view of events is almost microscopic at times, and where most movies spend considerable time on character development and action, The Passion passes by many things with the assumption of familiarity, in order to take long and unblinking looks at things we know were part of the story, but we rarely consider in any depth.
Jim Caviezel dominates the film, as he should, and brings a distinctive vision of Jesus to the screen, one that is a long needed healthy corrective. Though physically probably too tall for the role, Gibson wanted Caviezel’s charisma and presence to convey the manliness of Jesus in a film where the brave and willing endurance of evil would be the central focus. The flashback sequences build a semi-complete picture of Jesus, but I can think of many other flashbacks that could have aided in Gibson’s cause. In these days of three hour plus epics, another 40 minutes could have been well used to bring us the many precursors of the Passion that are present in the Gospel accounts from the very beginning.
As far as casting goes, Gibson hit solidly every time he came to the plate. Maia Morgenstern’s Mary probably does more for Protestant understanding of Catholic views of Mary than centuries of art and apologetics. Riveted on Jesus throughout his sufferings, Mary is intimately aware of what is happening. At key points, it is her eyes locked upon Jesus that gives him the strength to go on. Her devotion to him- and his sufferings- is the primary way the viewer experiences the movie. It is powerful, human and deeply spiritual.
Hristo Shopov’s rendering of a pragmatic and torn Pilate has been faulted by some as soft in comparison to the historical Pilate, but I was pleased to see that Gibson placed the historical reasons for Pilate’s reluctance to kill Jesus plainly in front of the audience. While the Jewish religious leaders have reasons to hate Jesus, the Romans do not, and Pilate has been twice warned by the Emperor to control the explosive situation in Judea. Gibson takes some artistic license in presenting Pilate’s wife (Claudia Gerini) as a secret follower of Jesus, but this creates an even more plausible influence on Pilate to show restraint.
Accusations of anti-Semitism, which sounded misplaced to me before viewing the film, now sound completely bizarre. I did not leave the theater with a thought of what any Jew did to Jesus. But if a Roman soldier had been in the parking lot, I can’t say what I might have said. The soldiers in The Passion are sadistic, cruel, beasts. Their brutal destruction of Jesus drags you into a desire for vengeance, only to be confronted by Jesus’ own repeated pleading words of forgiveness. It is an effective use of the director’s art, and by the time the film has taken Jesus all the way to the crucifixion, you are as exhausted of the cruelty of the soldiers as you are of the physical abuse of Jesus himself. All the more reason to be shocked again when a soldier is showered in the blood and water from Jesus side, and kneels in guilty submission.
I was especially impressed with the weaving of various themes of The Passion together. When John comes bursting into Mary’s home to announce the arrest of Jesus, she asks the first question of the Passover Seder: “Why is tonight different from all other nights?” It’s this sort of interweaving of Biblical themes that will make the movie enjoyable to those Christians who might be tempted to judge Gibson harshly for creative departures from the Bible.
But it is in the use of the Last Supper as the commentary on the crucifixion that Gibson is particularly brilliant. As flashback after flashback goes back to the night before, and the words of Jesus in instituting the Lord’s Supper are given a visually stunning meaning, the viewer is repeatedly compelled to see that these events are not random, but part of something universal in scope, yet highly personal in meaning. As one person said, “As my body shook, as the tears flowed, as certain as the ugliness of my sin, the horror of His suffering, there was the joy of His forgiveness, and the giddy dread of His presence. I didn’t want it to end. My only comfort is that I can do it all again. Next Lord’s Day: The Table of the Christ.”
The taunts of anti-Semitism were, as expected, pointless. The Religious leaders were reacting exactly as the Bible portrays them in all four Gospels, and in accordance with what we would expect at the time. Yes, they are angry. Yes, they are insistent on Jesus’ death. And everything we know about the Sadducees is in accord with this portrayal. Of course, it is a very Jewish- but not black- Simon of Cyrene who becomes a co-sufferer with Jesus, and apparently, a believer. There are Jewish leaders who protest the treatment of Jesus. But primarily, there is the constant awareness that it is a spiritual struggle, not a political one, that is carrying Jesus to his death.
If I were looking for anti-Semitism, I could try to find it in the presence of Satan among the religious leaders or in the destruction of the temple in an earthquake. But it’s simply not there. Satan is present throughout the movie, taunting Jesus and testing his resolve. The destruction of the temple says what it should say: Jesus has done something that all religions fail to do, as is apparent from not only the temple itself, but the blind ambition and arrogance of the religious leaders themselves.
I can criticize the movie for a number of Hollywood touches- particularly in the demonic special effects department- but this is a language today’s filmgoers understand, and it is put to good use without over use. The resurrection, while welcome, seemed too short. The movie should have explored the devastation of the disciples post-crucifixion. Good Friday is about the darkness that falls on the disciples after all is over and they are left with nothing.
I could also say that the film’s flashbacks were not as carefully written and executed as the central story. The sermon on the mount was poorly staged, and the invention of the modern kitchen table and chairs by Jesus was unlikely. Herod was pointless. Mary Magdalen was not the woman in John 8. But these are quibbles over details. The film was magnificent.
The Passion is Gibson’s visual prayer for our conversion. Offered in the context of the Eucharist, Gibson wants us to be Christ-haunted as we leave the theater. He wants the images of Jesus’ suffering to haunt us, but he really wants to haunt us with the love of Christ embracing the cross, forgiving his enemies, and finishing the work of forgiveness for all of us. It remains to be seen how the non-Christian world sees this movie. Perhaps it will be confusing, or perhaps it will spark healthy curiosity. But no one who sees The Passion will ever think about these events the same way again. Gibson’s prayer is compelling art, with a vision that burns itself into your consciousness, and will not leave you unaffected.
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