Mon. February 23, 2004
Mel Gibson’s “Passion of the Christ” certainly is a striking new account of the last twenty-four hours of Jesus’ life. With a relentless, brutal approach that makes the final scenes of “Braveheart” seem like a Disney film, Gibson returns to challenge his audience: can you sit through two-plus hours of watching torture, pain and death?
That’s a question you’ll have to answer for yourself. “Passion” is a veritable masterpiece of its genre, fearless and profound. As moving as it is controversial, the film enforces a visceral acquaintance not only to the documented brutalities of an earlier time, heaped upon a religious icon whose sufferings have been so unceasingly recounted that his sacrifice, like the countless statues modeled after his visage, seem as unfeeling as marble and wood – but also reminds us that his death, like the prophetic teachings which led to it, was a tragedy which transcends affiliations, sects and even time. This was a man who was killed because he preached compassion and love – dangerous notions to the delicate balance of power in virtually every age during which people were ruled by tyranny. Every story of this nature deserves to be told.
It is, however, an intense work. Gibson leaves nothing to suggestion; you’ll watch as each lash leaves its welt and each nail is pounded home. For some, the exquisite effects will turn the stomach; and I predict many showings will witness patrons leaving the theatre, at least temporarily, to gain a moment’s distance from the gore. For every audience will fully realize, while watching the wounds inflicted in just the first hour, that there will be no release from the horror until the central character’s last emotional breath on the cross.
Gibson’s cast is superb, and superbly directed. James Caviezel and Maia Morgenstern help center the tale on the Jesus/Mother Mary relationship with smoldering performances. Hristo Naumov Shopov provides a generous amount of inner conflict as Pontius Pilate (although his portrayal is very likely not historically accurate in the least – Pilate enjoyed a reputation as a brutal, heartless murderer), and Monica Bellucci brings as much complexity to her role of Mary Magdalene as she can, given that she is written to cry in virtually every scene in which she plays. Technically, the film is tremendous as well, with its Italian locations and historical detail richly presented in most every frame. Even the languages, mostly Aramaic and Latin, are fluidly exercised; subtitles do not interfere with the experience at all (and to the historians who say that the dialects are laughable: most of us do not speak Latin fluidly, and we’re not laughing).
If there’s a weakness in this film, it is Gibson’s single-minded determination to document the death of Jesus with the true ironic tragedy of the event mostly in absentia. Through a variety of short flashbacks, we witness snippets of Jesus’ teachings and works – but not enough to overcome even the slightest deficiency of knowledge of the New Testament. This is the work of a deeply religious man, and it assumes a lot of its audience: the result of either a lack of courage or an overindulgence of focus. But I don’t believe Gibson is afraid of controversy, even though the film heaps guilt with even strokes upon those who played a part in the persecution of Christ – Jews and Romans, politicians and traitors. Rather I believe Gibson explored his own passion for the events surrounding this man’s death, and in the spirit of that belief, I have to applaud his intent.
“The Passion of the Christ” may be the most difficult film you’ve had to sit through in a long time. In its wake, the controversies, analysis and endless arguments of the political, religious and critical community may be a lot worse. Those are the types of verbal persecutions that unhinged the simple messages voiced by Christ - and ultimately destroyed him. Gibson has made a movie about an incredibly brave sacrifice made by an innocuous man bound by the simple constructs of love. Perhaps we should just let that be celebrated for what it was, and not convert it to ulterior, ultimately self-serving, purposes.
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