Passion Of The Christ
Posted by 7th on June 03, 2004

Back when my Whatever-dude career was at its peak, I wrote an article about the world of Christian cinema. My views on it, as a whole, haven’t changed much. I still feel that, for the most part, these films are made on the cheap to make a quick buck from the same religious zealots out there who throw down their hard-earned money for a two inch by two inch piece of terry cloth just because a snake oil salesman like Robert Tilton prayed over it. They’re all made with the same inspiration; not the Bible, but the personal beliefs of the writer in mind. This is why an American writer, working under the auspices of the Trinity Broadcasting Network, can cast the role of the Antichrist in The Omega Code as a British aristocrat, ( a stereotype that is reviled in the US almost as highly as that of the down-trodden black youth who’s out to kill every whitey he comes across) even though the Bible states the Antichrist will be embraced by the Jews as the Messiah, which would mean he’d have to be (or at least, pretend to be) a Jew himself.

These films rarely cover any new ground, but instead try to “reinvent” the stories that the Christian faith is based upon. A good example would be The Judas Project, where the story of Christ is reinterpreted as a contemporary tale that takes place in the 20th century. For Christians who accept the Bible as factual, this would be no different than making a film about World War II wherein the war takes place in Middle Earth, and Hitler trounces across the Shire slaughtering millions of innocent Hobbits.

There have been numerous attempts to “accurately” portray Christ’s life on the silver screen. There was King of Kings, where Christ was played by the late Jeffrey Hunter (who turned down the role of Captain Pike he played in the pilot for Star Trek for the prestigious role of mankind’s savior.) Then there was The Greatest Story Ever Told, where Christ was played by Max Von Sydow (one the great few remaining classic actors alive… though his reputation was tarnished somewhat by his portrayal of the high Judge in the abysmal Judge Dredd… don’t worry though… he made up for it in droves as the quintessential Leland Gaunt in the film adaptation of Stephen King’s Needful Things.) This film, oddly enough, is most famous for John Wayne’s cameo as the Roman Centurion who utters (in a severe Texan accent) “Well surely he was the Son of Gahd.” Then there was Jesus of Nazareth, a six hour monster of a film that used to play on NBC every year right around Easter. I can’t recall the name of the actor who played Christ in that one, but he looked just like George Harrison on the album cover of Sgt Pepper.

Then, there’s been the reinterpretation films, which I group together with the comedies, as they both have the same artistic merit. There was The Last Temptation of Christ, wherein Wilem Dafoe portrays Christ dying on the cross and having sexual fantasies about getting it on with Mary Magdalene. There was Jesus Christ Superstar, where Christ is a song spouting hippy pursued by Romans armed with M-16 assault rifles. There was Monty Python’s The Life of Brian, where Christ wasn’t even the main character. He was born across the street from Brian, who is mistaken for Christ because of a geographical anomaly. There was The History of The World: Part 1, where Christ (portrayed by John Hurt) is blissfully unaware that his name has become an utterance of extreme frustration. And I’ll even go so far as to lump in the South Park series, where Christ is the host of a locally broadcasted TV talk show (I can’t help but laugh every time I watch the episode wherein one of his audience members keeps calling him Montel.)

All of these films, whether they were filmed to be taken seriously or not, seemed to miss the point. Even a film as highly regarded as The Greatest Story Ever Told seems hollow somehow. The crucifixion seems almost like an afterthought, with very little emphasis placed on what that violent end represents to believers.

Into the picture steps Mel Gibson. After a religious reawakening some twelve years ago, Mel took it upon himself to make THE Christ film, the film upon which all future attempts would be judged. It would focus not on his ministry, but on the last twelve hours of his life, wherein he was captured, judged, tortured, and executed… the same twelve hours that past films have tried to pussyfoot around as tastefully as possible. Mel claims that the Holy Spirit was the real screenwriter and director for this film, and that he was simply following orders. While I can’t prove or disprove such a statement, I must say that, based on my own personal research, The Passion of The Christ is the most factually accurate portrayal of Christ’s execution that has ever been put on film.

Cast as Christ is relative unknown Jim Caviezel. He's been seen as the son trying to reach across time to talk to his father in Frequency. He was also the twinkle in J-lo's eye in Angel Eyes. And perhaps best up until the Passion, he was the shwashbuckling hero in The Count of Monte Cristo. He plays the part somewhat differently from past portrayals. Christ by Caviezel is more human, more approachable. This is exhibited by his manner. Instead of being portrayed as a wide-eyed zombie of God as he was in The Greatest Story Ever Told or Jesus Of Nazareth, he's shown as an open and emotional man, laughing with his disciples, enjoying the act of creation in his chosen profession of carpentry, joking around with his mother. These are sides of Christ that have never been portrayed on film so honestly, and sides that, quite frankly, the Church seems to ignore. In watching the film, I got the distinct sense that Jim had gotten the mix just right. It was as though it actually was the historical Yeshua, right there on the screen.

This is not to say that the film is completely accurate from a biblical standpoint. Mel has taken quite a bit of creative license here (though he claims this was, again, from the Holy Spirit, which would indicate that the Catholic Bible has left a few things out.) For instance, the Gospels never mention Satan tempting Christ in the Garden of Gethsamane. That took place earlier in the desert. Nor do the Gospels ever mention Satan witnessing Christ’s flogging whilst coddling an evil clone of Mini-Me. Nor do the Gospels ever mention the wife of Pontius Pilate bringing Mary towels to soak up her son’s blood from the Threshing Floor. Nor do they mention Judas being chased by demon-possessed children on his way to his suicide. Nor do they mention Christ’s shoulder being dislocated so his hand would reach a precarved notch in the cross where the nail would be driven (this Mel took from a woman whose name escapes me who, in the 1800’s, had a supposed vision of the crucifixion wherein she witnessed Christ’s death in more elaborate detail. And let’s not forget that modern historians are now quick to point out that the nails would’ve been driven into his wrists, not his palms, as his palms wouldn’t have been able to support his weight. This is also evident on the Tourin Shroud, which, real or not, shows the wounds as being in his wrists, not his hands.) And I’m sure that the Bible never mentions Satan, at the moment of Christ’s death, falling to his knees in Hell and giving us the infamous “NOOOOOOOOOOOOO!” scream of the defeated action movie nemesis (which, to play Devil’s advocate for a moment…no pun intended… does remind me of Braveheart, where Edward The long Shanks dies right at the moment of Wallace’s last breath.)

But the film does do what it set out to do. It makes the torture and execution of Jesus (or as it is properly pronounced in the film, Yeshua) as real as it has ever been portrayed. Too real, in fact. I’ve sat through what many consider to be the bloodiest film ever made, a film directed by then unknown director Peter Jackson entitled Dead-Alive, without so much as a blink or turn of the stomach. I’ve sat through several of the Faces of Death videos without losing a bit of sleep over them. But there were several instances during the Passion (particularly during the flogging scene) where I turned away from the screen. The violence of this particular scene, which runs for over ten minutes, was at times unbearable. I can’t believe this film didn’t get an NC-17 rating for it, and I can only imagine what was cut out to get an R rating.

The pain is tangible. There’s no other way to describe it. You feel every blow. You feel your own flesh being ripped off. You gasp in horror as though you were Mary herself, forced to stand and watch her son’s torture. It’s that real, and that horribly touching. As I sat there, watching this man be literally ripped apart, his skin and muscle being torn in chunks from his body, an air of utter despair filled the theater. I could hear people, both men and women, openly weeping, and gasping in pain with each wound inflicted. But that scene was only the beginning.

The following scene where Christ is forced to carry his cross through the streets of Jerusalem to the top of Calvary (known traditionally by those who live there as the Hill of the Skull for its resemblance to that vital part of the human anatomy) is just as painful. Every time Christ’s strength fails him, I felt my breath knocked out of me when he hit the ground. I should mention that this is also where another one of Mel’s artistic additions is placed. Mary witnesses Christ fall, and she flashes back to a time when Jesus was just a small boy. He trips and falls, hurting his knee. She rushes to him and comforts him. This memory breaks her paralysis and she rushes to Jesus, and tells him the same thing she told him as a child: “I am here,” which is one thing a loved one can say that often means so much more than anything that could ever be said. I watched that scene, and as melodramatic as it must sound, the young boy looked just like my own son, and just for a moment, I felt what it must’ve been like to know that your child is going to die. And I must admit, I did shed a tear at that point.

Another little tidbit for those die-hard Bible fans out there exists in the role of the young woman who wipes the face of Christ as he lies exhausted in the dirt. As she stands up, we see that the visage of Christ’s face is emblazoned across the fabric in blood. This image is (if memory serves) known as Veronica’s Veil, and was once believed to heal any person who touched it. It disappeared many centuries ago, right around the time that the Tourin Shroud appeared. Many believe that the “veil” was simply the Tourin shroud folded to display the face portion of the shroud, and that the myth of Veronica’s Veil is just that. Alas, no one will ever know for sure.

And so, as the story goes, Christ is led to the hilltop and crucified. By that point, there isn’t a square inch of his flesh that isn’t torn, bleeding, or missing entirely. All the right words are said. All the right actions are taken. In the end, the sky turns black, and the temple is ripped in two, along with the veil that guards the door to the Holy of Holies where the Ark of the Covenant was traditionally kept, a symbol that man no longer needs a priest or rabbi to seek the face of God (a lesson the Catholics of the world seem to be blissfully unaware of.) Christ had, as the Bible says, stood in the gap. A Roman guard stabs Christ in the side to ensure that he’s dead. A mixture of what appears to be blood and water falls down from the wound like a mist. The Bible describes it literally as blood and water. According to my doctor (who I actually asked on my last visit) this was hemoglobin and amniotic fluid from the right and left chambers of Christ’s heart, indicating that both ventricles had ruptured. So quite literally, Christ died of a broken heart.

Mary, James, and Mary Madgalene take possession of Christ’s body. Satan realizes the depth of his defeat. And the screen goes black. This is where I expected the film to end, as several of my friends who’d already seen the film had told me that there was no resurrection scene. Well all I can assume is that they must’ve got up and made a beeline for the exit as soon as the screen went black, for if you just wait a few moments, a light pierces the darkness. You see that it is the light of the sun, unveiled by the rolling away of a large round stone by invisible hands. The camera pans left to a burial slab, where there lays a body wrapped in its death shroud. The shroud deflates before our eyes. The camera pans farther left and there sits Christ, his wounds vanished, his hair clean and laying across his naked shoulders. He opens his eyes and stares out into the light of the morning. Then he stands, and as he does, his hand passes by the camera and we can see the skin of his thigh through the healed but still evident wound in his palm. And then, he boldly walks out of the tomb to fulfill his promise.

For a believer, that brief scene makes the two hours of torture well worth it. Had Gibson not taken that bold step, but instead ended the film at his death, it would’ve made it all seem for nothing. And perhaps that is the lesson he was trying to convey: that as horrible and heart-wrenching as Christ’s torment was, it was not as important as what occurred on the morning of the third day.

I thought, when first hearing of this film, (especially after learning that it wasn’t in English) that it would briefly hit arthouses across the country, maybe make back Gibson’s investment, and then fly straight to video in time for Christmas. Instead, it has become what many consider to be the biggest surprise hit in history, showing that, just perhaps, this country is not as devoid of Christians as many would have you believe. There have been critics, of course. Those who say it’s too violent. Those who say it’s anti-Semitic. There are those who’ve coined the film “BraveChrist,” claiming that Gibson more or less took the last hour of Braveheart and substituted Christ for William Wallace. Ignore these cretins. Even if you aren’t a Christian, this is an emotionally charged film, and will stir a reaction in you, no matter what kind, that few (if any) other films could. It is nothing short of ultimate pain and ultimate love in one heartbreaking package. And you won’t likely ever see its like grace movie screens again.

-=7th=-