How could I not? Everyone's a critic when it comes to this movie, even if they haven't seen it, which I have.

Here are some thoughts culled from a few different experiences of reflecting on the film. I saw it two weeks ago and have had pondered it quite a bit--even taught a Sunday School class on it.

Here are a few musings:


First, some rejected titles for the film:
The Texas Chainsaw Passion.
Nightmare on Golgotha.
(Good) Friday the 13th.

But seriously folks...

I have a new appreciation for the power of the biblical account(s) of the passion, which are deep, expansive and cosmic in scope, unlike the film, which is largely clunky and gross. (A friend has added, fetishistically violent.) The flashbacks are focused more or less exclusively on the teachings of Jesus--no healings, no miracles, no exorcisms--which begs the question whether this Jesus even has the power to get himself out of the whole crucifixion nightmare, and if he doesn't, well what kind of savior is that.

I suppose in the midst of all this hype, it is the ultimate liberal poser thing to dis on the film. But I have to say, I went into this ready for a truly cathartic experience. I really was ready to put everything aside and just go with it. The movie did not deliver, for me. Granted, it was food for thought, and there were some powerful moments of pathos, especially centering around the women. (In fact you could do a whole study of the gender issues in this film. The men are brutish, the women cry and mop up the blood.) But on the whole, it just did not resonate with me at all.

I also think that Gibson's movie points out the danger of synthesis. I was watching the mishmash thinking, "This is why we have FOUR gospels." Of course, this is human nature, to try to bring some coherence to the disparate pieces. But ultimately that enterprise is going to come up short. Go biblical writers! You guys rock.


Regarding the violence...
I remember in intro to preaching we read a sermon and afterward the professor asked us to consider whether the metaphor the preacher used bore the weight of the thing being described. (I think the metaphor was, the preacher's family had use of a borrowed refrigerator during WWII--when the war ended the other family needed it back, and the kid was upset until the mother noted that it was never "theirs" to begin with, it was a gift and theirs to enjoy but ultimately to let go of. Bleh.) Another example--people who want to make the gospel "relevant" to a young generation want to use Pepperidge Farm goldfish and juice boxes for communion. The question is, do crackers and juice boxes bear the weight of "This is my body, this is my blood"?

Likewise, when people want to talk about the violence in the movie, my question for them is, does the bloodbath in this movie bear the weight of what it is attempting to convey? If we just throw enough blood and spatter onto the screen, will that really adequately portray the most violent theological event in human history? If we really believe that the powers and principalities conspired to put the son of God to death, if we really believe that God took on the sin and pain of the world, are we really going to "get" that sufficiently by watching a man's flesh getting flayed off his body? Not a very imaginative way to do it.

I think Mel Gibson ultimately uses the tools of a journalist; he claims to have wanted to convey what flogging and crucifixion were really like back then, as accurately as possible. Journalistic tools, with all due respect to journalists, seem to me too limited to convey the breadth and depth of meaning in this story--a story which is, after all, a myth, and I say myth in the deepest, truest, most reverent sense of the word. A seminary professor once said, "Myths are truer than journalism." Amen.


One final note: the final few seconds of the film, in which Jesus emerges steely-jawed from the tomb, seemed a bit too much like Action Hero Jesus. "He's back, and he's pissed."

The balcony is closed.