Whenever I teach “Faith, Reason, and Culture,” a class that introduces students to theology at Villanova, I set aside a class meeting to discuss “The Hollywood Jesus.” My sense has long been that students can better grasp the Christological debates of the Patristic Era when viewed in relation to the portrayals of Jesus onscreen. For example, one can juxtapose the “docetic” rendering of Christ in The Greatest Story Ever Told (dir. George Stevens, 1965) with the more “adoptionistic” approach found in The Last Temptation of Christ (dir. Martin Scorsese, 1988).
All of which is to say: I tend to keep tabs on movies about Jesus. My interest probably began as I kid, when I would watch chunks of Franco Zeffirelli’s television miniseries Jesus of Nazareth (1977) during Holy Week. Of course, I had to watch Mel Gibson’s The Passion of the Christ when it came out in 2004, and I’ve tried to keep up with low-profile newer releases that have appeared in recent years, including Risen (2016) and Paul, Apostle of Christ (2016). Finally, there are various classics such Ben-Hur (1959), Il vangelo secondo Matteo (1964), and, yes, Monty Python’s Life of Brian (1979). They all have merit in one way or another, though, if pressed, I would agree with many critics that Pier Paolo Pasolini’s Matteo is the greatest film about Christ ever made. Pasolini’s “neorealism” entails a commitment to amateur actors and on-location filming—thereby rooting the story in everyday life—even as his timely use of classical and gospel music evokes the transcendent. Here, to great effect, Pasolini sets the crucifixion of Christ to Mozart’s Maurerische Trauermusik in C minor K 477:
So, then, I was surprised to learn recently that I had missed out on Mary Magdalene (2018) when it was released a few years ago, and I decided to watch it over the weekend. As its title suggests, the film centers on the eponymous disciple of Jesus, but with a twist. Whereas the person Mary Magdalene has long been associated with the so-called “woman who was a sinner” (Luke 7:36-50) and thus viewed as a symbol of penance and docility, Mary Magdalene the film treats her as an active member of Christ’s inner circle—a disciple who, in contrast to Peter (Chiwetel Ejiofor) and Judas (Tahar Rahim), grasps that the message of Jesus (Joaquin Phoenix) is not political revolution but loving forgiveness. Helmed by Australian director Garth Davis, Mary Magdalene clearly tries—at times, perhaps a bit too hard—to eschew the conventions of most Jesus films. For example, we see nothing of Jesus’ childhood and very little of his mother Mary, and we only meet Jesus late in his ministry, as he slowly winds his way to Jerusalem for a much anticipated showdown with Roman authorities. But the crowds that flock to him are not paying attention. Phoenix portrays Jesus as a strange figure—earnest, soft-spoken, detached (docetic?), and often gloomy. It is an intriguing performance, though, if not for the miracles, it would be hard to see why Phoenix’s Jesus would have attracted so much popular interest. Indeed, the movie implies that it takes a different sort of person to really understand Jesus. Such is the case with Mary Magdalene (Rooney Mara), who, breaking with cultural and familial expectations, sets out on her own to follow the itinerant rabbi:
As this scene indicates, Mary Magdalene is a slow, pensive film. Who would’ve thought the “greatest story ever told” could be so plodding? And yet, it manages to raise challenging questions about Jesus and his early followers without being irreverent—no mean feat. I would not rank it among the best of the “Hollywood Jesus,” but I am glad I saw it. Meantime, I look forward to seeing how Terrence Malick and, it now seems, Mel Gibson add to this cinematic canon in the coming months and years.
CNN staff needs to take your class. Almost every year near Easter, CNN has a program, “Searching For The Real Jesus.” Given the number of times that’s aired, the search seems to be ongoing. Maybe you could help them out.
Pier Paolo Pasolini's Matteo, couldn't agree more, that it must be one of the best if not the best. All the more poignant with Pasolini's own torturous life story and struggling artistic/political vocation and yet how the Church embraced his film. I have to say tho', that the baptism scene cracks me up every time I've seen it - just how, for all the neorealism approach, we have a very "delicate" approach to baptizing, with just the merest sprinkling from the hand to the hand. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=MzT6Lwj1yhA