The Chosen – sweetly blows up fundamentalism (inerrancy of the Bible)

 There’s plenty that is irritating about ‘The Chosen’, the long TV series of the life of Jesus. (Watch it here - https://watch.angelstudios.com/thechosen)

 Peter is super irritating, he looks and talks like he should be doing a re-make of ‘Easy Rider’ or a Clint Eastwood Western; there are the bar scenes complete with the knowing all land-lord; and perhaps worst of all, there is the way direct quotes from the Bible will plonk down onto the stage like clunky robots so undermining the life and flow of what is a pretty good script.

 But there’s plenty to like. Proper money has been spent on the scenery, the actors and the costumes. There is nothing amateur here. There is depth to the characters -  even Peter – but especially Nicodemus, and Matthew, and Jesus. This is the first film about Jesus I have seen where he has his own character beyond what we read in the Gospels. And he is given some great lines, such as when Peter vociferously complains about Matthew joining them, arguing that ‘this is different’ To which Jesus replies, ‘Get used to different’.

 Another huge plus point is the careful background given to these familiar stories. There is a long build up to the miraculous catch of fish. Peter is in serious trouble, massively in debt to the tax office. He needs to money the fish will give. And this build up allows us to meet Matthew and get to know his loneliness and longing for more out of life so when Jesus does call him, there is more emotion than in the plainer account in the Gospels. Even more so for Nicodemus. He is almost the second star of the story line. Absolutely the religious teacher he is, but also open to God and so open to the possibility that John the Baptist and Jesus of Nazareth are his messengers.

 Perhaps one of the best things this TV series does is to sweetly blow up fundamentalism. By fundamentalism I mean a brittle like insistence that the Bible is inerrant. This pushes Christians down a claustrophobic cul de sac where they try and work out how many women visited the empty tomb on Easter Sunday, or how many angels were there, or whether Jesus dismissed the disciples after the feeding of the five thousand (the Synoptics) or they just left (John). The Bible does not claim to be inerrant. It claims to be inspired by the Holy Spirit and the church accepts that the Bible is authoritative in matters of faith and life-style. That is very different from trying to reconcile genealogies, and different numbers in David’s census to prove the Bible is without mistakes.

 ‘The Chosen’ blows fundamentalism up not just by adding vast swathes to the story, as with say Nicodemus failing to exorcise Mary Magdalene in the first episode, it also changes some of the details of the Gospel stories. So we have Jesus’ famous night time conversation with Nicodemus happening in Capernaum, not Jerusalem as in John 3. And instead of Jesus meeting the women of Samaria going north to Galilee, he is coming south from Galilee. Everyone who has read the Gospel of John will know the TV series is not accurate here, and this is the sweetness. It doesn’t make a jot of difference to the power of the story. There is such poignancy as Jesus starts to tell the women of Samaria about her husbands, such tenderness, that to start worrying about the detail that in the Gospels he is going north, not south, would be to strain out a gnat. Or – to stay with this particular story – to worry about which mountain we are supposed to worship God on. The answer is neither – we are to worship God from our heart.

 This does not mean ‘The Chosen’ is asking its viewers to wander down the rabbit holes of some liberal theology where miracles do not happen, Christ is not divine, and most of the Gospel accounts are said to be based on community myth making rather than eye witness accounts (for more on this see Richard Baukham’s ‘Jesus and the Eye Witnesses’) The boundaries in the film are orthodox. The miracles do happen, Christ is the Messiah, and the foundation to the series are the Gospel accounts. But within these boundaries the director and writer Dallas Jenkins has rolled out multiple red carpets to welcome in imaginative story telling that generally enriches the Gospel narratives.

 And in so doing Jenkins keeps Jesus of Nazareth centre stage, and escorts the unnecessary doctrine about Biblical inerrancy into the wings.

 

 

'The Dig' - Strange to spend so much money and talent on such a messed-up story line

 Visually ‘The Dig’ is beautiful, the acting out of a master class - but the story line is a mess. 

 The story was in the set up. It was the village under-dog facing an alliance of the county class and the museum elite.

 There was so much more the screenplay could have made of this. We could have had the archaeologist’s ‘Karate Kid’ or ‘Rocky’ or ‘Invictus’ or ‘Forest Gump’. If only at the planning stage someone had come along and said: 'Keep to the story of the hero, Bruce Brown the excavator with no formal education, quietly overcoming the establishment. Don’t go down relationship rabbit trails.'

 But down the rabbit trails we went. Settling in for an underdog movie, suddenly you are wondering if this is a rich woman falling in love with poor man story, a ‘Lady Chatterley's Lover’ moved to Suffolk. That distraction, thankfully, peters out. It was completely unbelievable. We get back to the under-dog versus the establishment, but not for long. About an hour into the film, when things should be getting really tense for Brown, a romantic foursome comes crashing onto the screen. Their characters are stereo types, their unrelated story boringly predictable. Everyone has worked out exactly what is going to happen after the first few minutes of their appearing. Newly married archaeologist Stuart Piggot is going to go off with a bloke and his rejected wife is going to go off with the good-looking cousin of the rich widow who owns Sutton Hoo. They are irritating intruders, pushing our hero to the side-lines. So much so that the main story just fizzles out. There is no climatic breakthrough, no Apollo 13 bursting through the skies, no Schindler stumbling with emotion as he says farewell to the Jews he has saved, no standing ovation for John Nash. And yet you feel there could have been, if only the writer had stayed with the main story.

 It leaves one wondering what it is that persuades so much talent and so much money to invest in a film with such an obvious crack in its story line. Here is the fear. That when considering a new film the studio pulls out a check list. Will there be visual beauty? Will there be famous actors? Will there be a historic feel, if possible connected to the Second World War? Will there be romance? And, of course, will there be a gay theme? ‘The Dig’ ticked all these boxes.

 But the investors forgot that if you don’t keep everything working together for the main story line, unless you are a Terrence Malik or a Christopher Nolan, a film is doomed. Soon ‘The Dig’ will disappear, and if it is unearthed a hundred years from now, it won’t be treated as a treasure. Its only use will be as an artefact to teach students how a sub-plot can ruin a film.

The Tree of Life, The Hidden Life: Terrence Malik moves from Job to Jesus

 In ‘The Tree of Life’ a young man is killed in Vietnam. Uninvited suffering rumbling in the undergrowth of most people’s memories. It raises an accusatory eye towards the Creator. Malik answers us with God’s famous question to Job: ‘Where were you when I laid the foundations of the earth?’. He then lets his camera unwrap some of the answer to that question. For more on ‘The Tree Of Life’ see here: Tree of Life

 In ‘The Hidden Life’ the suffering is sharper – because it can be rejected. Franz Jaggerstatter, the Austrian farmer, called up to serve in the army, simply has to say an oath to Hitler who is the head of the armed forces. It would be the work of less than ten seconds. He could keep his fingers crossed behind his back. Nobody needed to know what he thought in his heart.

If Franz says the oath, nothing will happen. If he does not say the oath, the inevitable suffering will happen. It's his choice. Malik has moved from Job to Jesus, from suffering that comes to us uninvited, to suffering deliberately chosen.

We soon know that Franz has set his face towards his Jerusalem, but all the time Malik, from many different angles, is asking us whether his choice is worth it, even morally correct. In a masterful way Malik especially brings out the intensity of suffering Franz’s decision pours on others. Again and again we see the strain etched on the face of his wife. We also have the echo from the Nunc Dimittis, ‘a sword will pierce through your own heart also’, as we are taken close up to the pain experienced by Franz’s mother.

We have the voices of seeming reason, from the priest, the bishop, the lawyer, all urging conformity. We even have a Pontius Pilate scene when the judge in Berlin invites Franz in for a private meeting. Malik knows his Bible well, especially the Gospel of John. The writer of the Gospel draws on the irony of Pilate sitting on the judge’s seat to unjustly judge the Judge. So here the judge (played by the late Bruno Granz, Hitler in ‘Downfall’), sits in the chair that Franz sat in, and looks at his hands. As in the Gospel, so here – who is judging whom?

The answer as to whether the suffering was worth it is certainly not in the execution. Here there is only fear. No heavenly peace. No angels. We just see his shaking hands before Franz is led away.

There was though something of an answer in the prison in Berlin, before the execution. Franz is told by his lawyer, ‘Just sign here, and you will be free.’ To which Franz replies, ‘But I am free.’ He was right. He was free – free to act as he thought was right, which meant refusing to make a promise to Adolf Hitler, refusing to give this murderous tyrant his personal support. Yes, he would stay imprisoned and he would die. But he would die a free man. That is a reward. What if he had signed? He would have had to act against his conscience fighting for Hitler, and who knows, he could easily have been killed, so dying anyway - but with a stained conscience.

 And there is a richer answer back in Franz’s village where he and his family had been ostracised. At the time of his execution someone goes to the church which Franz used to clean. The man pulls the rope, we see the bell swinging. An image of death by hanging, but respect and recognition at last from his own people, and the sound in the chimes speaking of a better world.

 Then the camera sweeps up to the mountains and the skies. The unbeliever says Franz’s death was in vain, a pointless sacrifice. The believer – with Malik – says, ‘No, there is meaning in sacrificial suffering for there is another chapter to this story’.

 There is indeed. The film is a ‘Calvary Road’, but at the end we are reminded of the empty tomb and the life to come.

 For a full and brilliant review, see here: Robert Ebert

Three 2011 films versus ‘The Godfather Part III’: no competition

A journey to America and back – four films: ‘The Artist’, ‘The Descendants’, ‘The Iron Lady’ – and ‘The Godfather Part III’ (without the gory or body bits) Beautiful in black and white, perfect swing back to the twenties, pretty people falling in love, but ‘The Artist’ was light-weight. The story was paper thin. And the hero redeemed by a dancing girl’s love is a selfish narcissus who became a stubborn selfish Luddite narcissus. Nothing heroic anywhere. ‘The Descendants’ was much better with great performances from Clooney playing the cuckolded rich lawyer from a family that owns virgin land in Hawaii, and Shailane Woodley, playing a full of teenage angst daughter who tells Clooney his dying wife was a cheat. Clooney finds the guy who cuckolded him and refuses to sell the virgin land. Very good. But we’re no where near a cathartic moment.

The script writers for ‘The Iron Lady’ could have taken any number of story lines to give us such a moment - winning the Tory leadership campaign and silencing the wets;

Why Arthur Christmas is much better than Tintin

I tried to take my mother to see 'The Help' the other week but it was full up, so we ended up with our 3D glasses on for Tintin. It was an OK blur of cartoon fun. Plenty that was spectacular, but nothing very gripping. If someone now says 'Tintin' to me, there's a bit of a blank in my brain.

Today I saw Arthur Christmas, and it is in a different league, not because of the animation and special effects, both films were equally spectacular, but because of the characters and the story. Tintin fans will be upset, but it takes real effort to try and remember why that model ship was so important. It's a struggle to think about all that business of Captain Haddock and his ancestors. And the bottom line is I didn't really care enough for any of the characters, even Tintin. He was a nice fellow who stumbled into someone else's adventure. But he was not an underdog and there was nothing personal. He was no Simba , or Karate Kid  or a Brave Heart, a Rocky, a Billy Elliot.  And he was no Arthur Christmas.

We get to like our hero Arthur Christmas, a lot. He is clumsy and geeky and full of phobias. Heights, flying, reindeer, snow - he is frightened of them all. He is absolutely not cool: but he loves Christmas. He believes that Santa is the best man in the universe. And he loves the children. Each one. We get to like the other characters too, even Steve, the very cool, hi tech older brother who runs everything the modern way and seethes with ambition to take over, the slightly doddery father, the very Queen Elizabeth II type mother, Margaret, and the one who ends up stealing the whole show, grandad Santa who can't stand all the new fangled way of doing things with computers and space ships.

Unlike Tintin with its complicated tale of revenge, here the story is as simple and emotional as you can get. Steve has run a highly successful Christmas eve, billions of children have had their presents delivered, but the pink bike for one little girl fell off the conveyor belt. She is going to wake up on Christmas morning and there will be no present. There's the story. For Steve it's an insignificant detail in the huge scheme of success; for Arthur it's a disaster. And he's the only one that really cares enough to do something about it, even if it means overcoming all his phobias and letting grand dad get the old sleigh out to deliver the present.

Between the old sleigh bursting out of the stable doors to the bike being put under the Christmas tree, we get to know the characters more, including a wonderful little elf from the wrapping department who joins Arthur and grandpa, and there's plenty more action, but the whole time the writer keeps on reminding everyone what this is all about. The one child matters. Steve and his father thought they could just go to bed, but when the elfs find out that one child has been missed there's a near revolution at the north pole. They are shamed into getting out the space ship again. So at the end, grandad, father, Steve, and Arthur are all there in the one house that got missed. The film ends with father retiring and it's not Steve who inherits, it's Arthur, because he had the passion for what the heart of Christmas is all about.

Great films are usually full of parables and stories for preachers to use in sermons. There's not much in Tintin. But with Arthur Christmas - where to start? Passion is more important than being professional; do the right thing whatever your phobias; don't write the old off; and most important of all, the importance of the one. There's no mention of Jesus in the film, but maybe Arthur had read some of his stories - There was a shepherd who had a hundred sheep, and when he found out he had lost one, he left the ninety nine...

Well done Sarah Smith, please write and direct more. As far as I can see from IMDB this is your first major film. So, in a straight fight between Tintin and Arthur Christmas, you've beaten Spielberg and Jackson with your debut. Not bad.

The Tree of Life

If you’re looking for the thrills and tear jerks of normal movies, don’t go and see ‘The Tree of Life’. It is not a normal film. It is more like a picture poem, a shifting impressionistic painting, a symphony of music with video.

The visual beauty of the film is such that it needs to be seen on the big screen. And when you leave the cinema you will find that some of those images have remained in your mind, but not encased in a story.

And those pictures are theological, asking us about God, suffering, grace, and heaven.

The Director, camera shy

Assyrian Christian director Terrence Malick did not turn up to receive the Canne’s Palme D’Or award for his latest film ‘Tree of Life’, nor was he there for its premiere, and he gave no interviews to promote the movie. Nevertheless the sheer fact that this was a Malick film brought in the audiences, for he is recognised as being one of our generation’s finest film makes. But he is a bit odd. He is obsessed with his privacy, not wanting people to even see what book he is reading. Once he disappeared. This was after the success of his 1978 film, ‘Days of Heaven’. After a few days he phoned a producer and told him he was walking from Oklahoma to Texas, ‘looking at birds’. He then did not make another film for the next twenty years. There was silence. And with the silence a message that Malick did not make movies for the sake of it. In 1998 came the war film, ‘The Thin Red Line’, followed in 2005 by ‘The New World’, and now in 2011, after about three years of editing from its perfectionist director, ‘The Tree of Life’.

Don’t look for a story, you’ll get confused

You will get confused if you watch the film as a story, because there barely is one.

Dances With Wolves, a lot better than Avatar

Someone has said that Avatar was Dancing With Wolves in space. It's true, the theme is the same: wicked white men advancing, but one white gets to know the natives and changes sides. But Dances With Wolves is much better. For some strange reason I didn't see it when it came out twenty years ago, but settled down to watch it last week-end, sadly on the small screen. How I wish someone would open a cinema to show great films like this on the big screen...Lawrence of Arabia, Dr Zchivago, The Mission, Lion King...but back to the question. Why was Dances With Wolves so much better? The dialogue, unlike the sentimental cartoon twaddle of Avatar

Avatar, world's best 3D comicstrip, full of back to nature drivel

It is the probably the best comic film in 3D. Everything has a comic strip feel about it: the story line, the appalling dialogue, the characters, and especially the superb visual effects. And with the cartoon feel there are also lost of echoes of other films and fantasies…space ships (Star Wars), entering other worlds (Alice in Wonderland, Dr Who, Narnia), and in that world there are gruesome out of control creatures…(cue Jurassic Park and King Kong), and the confrontation between exploiting colonisers and and nature saved by a romance between an invader and a native, so they can go on worshipping trees…it’s another re-working of Pocahontas

On the down side the dialogue was sometimes so banal you had to laugh, and the whole epic went on about half an hour too long. And there was no grand music that stayed in your mind to hum on your way home. On the up side, and why it is worth seeing, is the constant flow of visual beauty. You can forget the story and the sound and just watch in silence. You will never get bored. The fact you don’t really have to worry about the characters as they are so clichéd makes the viewing even easier.

If I had anything to do with the US forces trying to contain Al Qaeda or the Taliban I would be furious with James Cameron for inflicting this film at this time in the West’s history. For the bottom line is the impression that mechanisation is evil, and back to nature is good. So while nobody can defend the baddy humans in the film wanting to blow up the natives’ sacred tree to get the mineral they need, the idea comes over that this is what the West is doing. That is not true. The West enters into business contracts for raw materials. And worse there is this general slur against the industrial computer obsessed societies, combined with the idea that somehow they have made a big mistake going down this heartless route…and so we all need to get back to nature. This is sentimental drivel. All the world needs the oil Western expertise extracts, and the idea we’d all be happier prancing around with tails is fine till you wonder what you’d do when you get toothache, or want a cup of coffee, or…..

But there you are…the Marine commando who twenty years ago would have been the hero bringing moral order to the world is now the big baddy, and the naked paint wearing native is the goody.

Time for a re-make of ‘Lord of the Flies’.