Whatever else Mel Gibson may have intended with the movie, the diverse reactions to The Passion seem to indicate that you may love it or hate it, but you can?t ignore it. The Braveheart director is no stranger to controversy. He seems to revel in it, and this time around he?s played it up in the media to the hilt.
Religious sentiment is always a tricky business to handle, especially where it involves two diverse hard-line communities as the Christian and the Jewish. Stories that have been related with as much feeling as these usually evoke passions of a varied nature. And attempts to view this with an unprejudiced eye are bound to falter.
I must confess something here. I was not in the right frame of mind when I sat down to watch the movie. So it is likely that this review is going to be a little biased. Religious sentiments notwithstanding, I was strangely unaffected by the intensity and the searing pain that emanates from the screen. It?s a slight travesty, especially since I decided to reverse my earlier decision not to see the film, only because I wanted to watch it purely for reviewing purposes. There was no pull otherwise. More?s the pity. Perhaps the interest level would have allowed me to look at this with a more heightened sense of impartiality.
This is an oft-told tale, one of the oldest, certainly the most endearing to most Christians across the world. The persecution and death of Jesus Christ, Son of God, also known as King of Jews, a term that stuck like a curse towards the end of his life. The death and then resurrection of this man who claimed to be the messenger from the Almighty has been reproduced on celluloid before. But rarely has this story been told with such intensity, such violence, such anger. And anger is what I was left with at the end of it all. Sorrow-yes, compassion-a little. But the overwhelming feeling is rage. But maybe that?s just me.
The film, as most of its flyers proclaim, is about the 12-hour period at the end of the life of Jesus, born a carpenter?s son, regarded as a prophet, branded as a troublemaker, tortured and killed as a heretic and blasphemer. It takes the viewer through those moments that are have been considered for centuries to be key to the creation of Christianity. The re-enactment is pretty detailed, stretching the final hours, so that the audience does feel like they are living through the moments and yet keeping the length of the film to less than 2 hours.
That, along with the care and diligence shown in lending an authentic look to the times-to the extent of retaining the original language of the period-is a plus point of the film. In these aspects at least, Gibson carries on from where he left us when he made Braveheart. But, and there can be no mistaking this, these are two different films, with an enormous difference in treatment.
Yes, the filmmaker?s passion for story telling is apparent in both films, the zest in Braveheart is replaced by the pathos in this one. While both end in tragedy, there is a certain upbeat attitude in the earlier film, that is remarkably absent in Passion, though Gibson may claim that his end to the film gave out enough hope to the faithful, it may not hold much water for those who have just come through an hour and a half of relentless, head-pounding series of blood-soaked scenes.
Gibson?s intention is clear. He wants to transpose his feelings for the Act of Sacrifice onto the general public. For once, this is personal, he seems to be saying. He does this by baring the very soul of evil-the film is replete with scenes of the devil and his cohorts, seen by several of the characters throughout the film. The persecution through words and actions-lots of it-is depicted with startling candour. Reality bites, they say. Well, in this case it stings, shocks and ultimately benumbs. The beatings, the abuse, the verbal insults, the humiliation is all brought to us in all its harsh nudity.
So much so that you wonder if any living thing, much less a person could have survived such savagery, such vicious hatred, such unbearable cruelty. You also wish Gibson had chosen to focus on the message than the gore. There is too much of the latter, and it sort of washes away any decent sense of goodness from the entire incident, which ideally should be what this crucification means for most Christians. The beatings are realistic to a fault, to the point of being repulsive, and the incessant nature of the abuse soon gets tiring, and leaves the viewer numb.
There is very little one can take from the film. The message of the Saviour of humanity is lost in the red haze of the battered body. If the film moves us, it is only because suffering has never been so jarringly depicted. If there are tears in the eyes of the believers and non-believers alike, it is because they relate to present times, and find such barbaric treatment shocking and cannot believe that a human being could have been treated this way.
I see no victory of intent for Gibson in this. There is no tearjerker like imparting pain to a good man, and the overdose in this case only makes for wetter tissues. What the film does succeed in though, is bringing to us the anguish and the equal, if not deeper suffering of the mother of Jesus, as also the guilt and suffering of his disciples, Pilate?s dilemma, and the devious nature of the temple priesthood. Also striking the right chord are some of the dialogues, which bring a modicum of believability to the sayings of the Christ, hitherto restricted to Bibles verses and other stories.
The film?s pace is necessarily slow, and sometimes grates on the already frayed nerves. This along with the oft-appearing Devil, don?t make for pleasant viewing. Performances are competent. James Caviezel is perfectly cast, though I do think its time he did some roles that didn?t make him look like a brooding, weight-of-the-world-on-his-shoulder- tragically inclined hero all the time. Romanian actress Maia Morgenstern is wonderful as the heart-broken mother, Mary. Monica Belucci doesn?t have much to do except look sorrowful, as does Hristo Jivkov as the disciple John. Luca Lionella as Judas hams it up, while Francesko DeVito as Peter disappears a soon as he denies his Master the third time. Hristo Shopov as Pontius Pilate is impressive, and gives a very polished performance of a role that has several hues.
A politician, a lawman, struggling to balance justice with popular demand. It must have been quite an effort to assemble and then direct such an international, multi-lingual cast, and Gibson deserves rich plaudits for this. As he does for the authenticity that his film brings to a story that is seen as fable by a majority of the world. Personal feelings aside, I think the earthy vistas, the slick production design and set decoration, augmented by brilliant costume design do lend plausibility to the film.
The overwhelming feeling when you step out of the theatre is one of sadness. For most people because they have witnessed suffering beyond limits, for me, because this could have been so much more than a beat-fest. There are scenes here you want to remember-the Last Supper for example-but you don?t, simply because the mind?s eye registers the blood, the broken skin, the tortured body, the welts, the swollen eye. And these, I?m sure are not why you visit a movie theatre.
So, I cannot in all honesty recommend this film to a discerning filmgoer. It is worth a dekko though for those interested in art design and cinematic authenticity. And it does convey the message of peace and forgiveness, even if it takes some looking to find amongst all the gore.