A Cinematic Cenaculo for the Converted

To mark Ash Wednesday today, I'm posting my review of Mel Gibson's The Passion of the Christ, which was first published in the Philippine Graphic on May 3, 2004. Incidentally, the film was released in the United States two years ago on Ash Wednesday.

Title: The Passion of the Christ
Distributor: 20th Century-Fox Pictures
Director: Mel Gibson
Screenwriters: Benedict Fitzgerald and Mel Gibson
Cast: Jim Caviezel, Maia Morgenstern, Monica Bellucci, Hristo Jivkov, Mattia Sbragia, Hristo Naumov Shopov, Claudia Gerini, Rosalinda Celentano, Francesco De Vito, Luca Lionello
Rating: PG-13 for sequences of graphic violence

No other movie this year has captured as much attention or provoked as much debate than Mel Gibson’s The Passion of the Christ. From the earliest stages of its production to the staggering impact of its release, people just can’t seem to stop talking about it. Is it really anti-Semitic? Is it really that violent? Have you heard about that lady who had a fatal heart attack while watching the film? Or about that remorseful man who had confessed to killing his girlfriend after viewing the movie? Or the hundreds of millions of dollars it has grossed at the US box-office?

Clearly, the film is more than a blockbuster; it has turned into a phenomenon. The fact that it’s a traditional retelling of a specific religious subject makes its success all the more mind-boggling. And that subject is as much based on the Sorrowful Mysteries, the Stations of the Cross, and our local cenaculos as it is on Gospel accounts. Many consider the movie more as a work of faith than a work of art. That’s fine, but I choose to see it as the latter. Much as it seems to try to exempt it­self from them, the film remains subject to the medium’s conventions and rules.

As a work of art, The Passion of the Christ has several problems. Gibson’s decision to concentrate squarely on Jesus’s journey to Calvary (with a handful of regrettably short flashbacks, strategically placed throughout the movie) contributes to some of them—like the lack of psycholo­gical depth, of a historical dimension. All throughout the film I kept asking myself: What drove the High Priest Caiaphas (Mattia Sbragia) to have Jesus (a noble, perfectly cast Jim Caviezel) put to death? What motivated Judas (Luca Lionello) to betray Christ? What prompted the citizens of Jerusalem (other than being bribed) to turn against a man they have welcomed like a king just a few days ago? I may suspect the answers, but the movie doesn’t suggest them.

The result? The players in this passion play never become three-dimensional, never become totally human. Not Judas or Caiaphas. Not Peter (Francesco De Vito) or John (Hristo Jivkov). Certainly not Caiaphas’s cohorts or the Roman soldiers torturing Jesus. Not Magdalen (Monica Bellucci, lovely as always but nothing more) or even Christ, despite Caviezel’s best efforts. Only Pi­late (Hristo Naumov Shopov) shows some semblance of humanity, partly because the film man­ages to show, however brief, how his mind works. But strangely, Maia Morgenstern, who plays Mary, gives the movie’s best performance. There’s something about her presence—the way she looks and carries herself, the way she follows Jesus—that’s so quiet yet so strong. And every facial gesture she makes speaks volumes as to what she thinks, what she feels.

Some have accused The Passion of the Christ for its alleged anti-Semitic sentiment. Maybe it’s just me, but I didn’t find any trace of it. True, Caiaphas and his allies are Jewish, but so are Jesus and his disciples. The film even portrays two of Caiaphas’s fellow priests quite sympathetically, though they appear only briefly. And then there are the Romans: some, like Pilate and his wife Claudia (Claudia Gerini) come off as sympathetic; others, like Jesus’s sadistic torturers, certainly do not. Still, they’re not that balanced: they’re still without dimension, without texture.

Others have raised the issue about the film’s violence. Yes, it’s graphic and it’s gruesome. Every time the soldiers flog Jesus senseless with their lashes and whips, tearing slivers of skin from his already bloodied and bruised body; every time they push and shove him towards Calvary—one couldn’t help but look away or wince. That’s how violent it is. Yet I couldn’t help but ask: Is his spirit similarly tortured? What is he really thinking? Is he tempted to give up, or is he really determined to persevere through it all? Does he try to numb himself from the unimaginable pain? His sacrifice would have been much more meaningful had Gibson paid attention to his spiritual and mental anguish as well. Unfortunately, he didn’t show it at all.

Then there’s the problem of Satan (Rosalinda Celentano) being in the film. I don’t mind him loo­king androgynous, but I do mind why is he in the movie at all. As a character, he’s not only distracting but also pointless. All he does is sneer or slither in and out in some scenes or both. And as for those face-morphing, terrible-looking children haunting Judas, their presence not only ap­pears ineffective, even unimaginative, but also—dare I say it?—cheap.

But that does not mean The Passion of the Christ is without any saving grace; it has some, actually. Caleb Deschanel’s sterling camerawork is one: he shoots the film in hard, harsh tones, in colors from beige and dark yellow to brown and black, reflecting the miserable condition of the time and the severity in which the Passion unfolds. Francesco Frigeri’s top-notch production de­sign and Maurizio Millenotti’s fine costumes add authenticity to the movie, as did Gibson’s ad­mittedly inspired decision to use Aramaic and Latin dialogue instead of English.

As a work of faith, the movie impresses; but as a work of art, it’s far from impressive. Still, The Passion of the Christ is filmmaking at its boldest. How else would you describe a director who professes his faith by making an uncompromisingly religious film in a not-so-religious time, using his own money to finance and release it against imaginable odds, and then seeing it pay off beyond all expectations? Such courage is commendable. And however sharply divided people’s opinions are about The Passion of the Christ, there’s no doubt that this cinematic cenaculo for the converted has already become this year’s most talked-about film. (Copyright © 2004 by A.I.D.)