Reviews

The fourth of the gospels is one that has often been overlooked in the dozen or so film adaptations of the life of Jesus. It lacks the miracle-working Christ of Luke and Mark rendered in Technicolor excess in the '60s "Greatest Story Ever Told," and it's missing the folksy, parable-preaching rabbi from Matthew that sang and danced through "Godspell." It doesn't have the familiar episodes from the synoptic gospels, like the Nativity story, the institution of the Eucharist, or a protracted crucifixion. Jesus's relatives and companions, like the Virgin Mary and John the Baptist, are mentioned only in passing. While John's Jesus does enact a few miracles, he is mostly a man of words, and they are not the same familiar messages of love and repentance that the synoptics write of. Rather, John the evangelist characterizes Jesus as a God-man determined to convey to the skeptical Jewish leaders that he is the Messiah and the bearer of Truth (he says "I am telling you the truth" at least a dozen times). Fully aware of these limitations, Visual Bible International decided to go ahead and film John anyway, and the result was apparently so satisfying that they decided to release it theatrically instead of going straight to video as planned.

"The Gospel of John" absolutely succeeds in converting the Good News Bible's vernacular translation (33 pages) to the visual format. Every single word is included, mostly as voice-over narration by Christopher Plummer. It is certainly the "purest," most literal translation of Jesus's story ever made, which, depending on the viewer's religiosity, is either good or bad news. For those who have thought of the written words of John as somewhat mysterious and austere (or, for that matter, have ever thought about John before at all,) this film helps to bring it all into perspective, in a three-hour, uninterrupted presentation, with naturalistic acting in a reasonable recreation of first-century Palestine. However, non-Christians are probably not going to be attracted to a version that gets overly wordy in the third act, as Jesus tries to get everything across to his disciples in the hours before his arrest in a four-chapter stream-of-consciousness sermon full of metaphors and riddles. From a cinematic perspective, the movie's rising action has come to a crashing halt; from a spiritual perspective, the reason for this rising action is all being explained. John jumps around in chronology, never accounting for gaps in the narrative (and, for that matter, never explaining what Jesus was up to before he arrived at John the Baptist's campaign in the Jordan River). The evangelist sometimes offers commentary and alludes to future events, which from a story standpoint is distracting (what we would call in movie terms, "a spoiler.") Whatever their reaction to its message, I think members of both camps-- evangelical and traditionalist-- could agree that John does not make for a good movie script. Luckily, the fellow they found for Jesus, Henry Ian Cusick, both looks and acts the part of a timeless, charismatic Messiah. Although slight of build and a bit fair-skinned, he does have the requisite flowing brown curls and beard, kind brown eyes, a large Jewish nose, and crooked teeth-- all that we would expect, from a contemporary standpoint, of the historical Jesus (Cusick is not Israeli, however, but hails from the London stage). He speaks with a generic, accentless voice, neither American nor British. What captivated me most about Cusick's portrayal was his warm smile; I never would have imagined John's Jesus as almost laughing with joy as he teaches about light and truth and the kingdom of heaven, but he makes it seem the only natural delivery for such revolutionary rhetoric. The movie does not, however, attempt to explore Jesus's personality any further, nor does it really get away from the familiar conceptions of peripheral characters, especially the stubborn, elitist Jewish temple priests, the cautious and "just" Pontius Pilate, and the enthusiastic but clueless disciple Simon Peter. There is no attempt to romanticize Mary Magdalene into a reformed prostitute or Jesus's love interest (she shows up at Jesus's crucifixion and then at his tomb as an undistinguished female follower) nor excuse Judas as a disillusioned intimate or predestined villain (John writes in no uncertain terms that "Satan entered into him.") Smaller speaking parts and extras are of a variety of ethnicities but not to a distracting degree. In general, the varied cast of American, British, and Canadian actors are naturalistic, sincere, and believable (given, of course, the juxtaposition of twentieth-century text to first-century Palestine). Production values on this film are significantly higher than one might expect on such a project, while perhaps not up to par with a studio version. The locations look as dry and dusty as the '60s sword-and-sandal epics were colorful, which lends the authenticity that contemporary audiences will appreciate. Costuming Jesus only in white robes was the only noticeably traditional reference, with the other figures clothed primarily in simple grey, brown, and dark blue garments. The music lacks unity, running the gamut from evocative Middle Eastern flutes in the scenes of the shore to a melodramatic orchestral build to the arrest. The cinematography and the staging are completely artless. Special-effects were mostly avoided by presenting the miracles as occurring subtly and naturally, and not with a flash of lightning or a puff of smoke. The matte paintings of the Jerusalem cityscape were rather obvious and the walking-on-the-water was borderline amateurish, but for the most part the budget constraints of the production actually worked in its favor. The crucifixion was realistic-looking without being overly gory; the most chilling moment in the film is actually not Jesus's death but the means by which the men hung next to him are eventually put out of their misery. In sum, this film is far more believable than Mel Gibson's "The Passion of the Christ" because it is a faithful transfer of the Gospel's literal message that does not need to elaborate on the Bible to make its evangelical agenda clear. There can be no objective critique of it, but for me personally, it was an honest testament of faith that served as a powerful reminder of why I am a Christian.

SPOILER ALERT The marketing for this French film characterized it as a screwball comedy, its humor heightened by its backdrop of WWII. It actually reminded me more of a "Poirot" episode on "Mystery!"-- an elitist's view of the tensions, both interpersonal and political, of the Deco era, with a bit of subtle wit thrown in. It had only a few fleeting moments that could be called comedy, but it was certainly a lighter look at the period than is usually seen ("The Pianist" and "Saving Private Ryan," et al, show a much more disturbing side to the war). The story seemed vaguely familiar (perhaps to the Kate Winslet codebreaking melodrama "Enigma") but, even despite the abbreviated British subtitles, was engaging and diverting for its duration.

The film opens in a darkened movie theatre, where everyone is laughing but a beautiful woman in the front row balcony and a scowling man on the level below, who menacingly glares at her until the lights come up. The woman, it turns out, is the biggest movie star in Paris, Viviane (Isabel Adjani), and her spat with the man will ultimately affect the imminent war in ways neither could have expected. That night, Viviane murders him, and calls upon her childhood friend Frederic (wild-eyed Gregori Derangue) to take the fall for her, which the struggling novelist does. But with the Nazis at Paris's doorstep, he escapes with a fellow ex-con, Raoul (charismatic Yvan Attal), and they travel in search of Isabel, befriending en route a lovely resistance fighter, Camille (Virginie Ledoyen, looking like a Gallic Natalie Portman) and the Jewish physics professor she is protecting, Kopolski (Jean-Marc Stehle). Viviane, meanwhile, has used her wiles to win the protection of the Interior Minister, Beaufort (Gerard Depardieu), but, when he fails to satisfy her demands for preferential treatment, she turns to her journalist friend Winckler (the American actor Peter Coyote, juggling French and German dialogue), whom she does not suspect of being a Nazi spy shadowing Kopolski. When all of the Parisian elite convene in Bordeaux, keeping secrets becomes nearly impossible, and while the script's emotional scenes fail to evoke audience sympathy, Frederic and Raoul's desperate quest to convey Camille, Kopolski, and their precious cargo of "heavy water"-- critical for the atomic bomb's construction-- to safety builds to a genuine climax. The film must have been a big hit in France to it have been brought Stateside, as it without originality in its storytelling and practically G-rated in terms of expected salaciousness, but is still a pleasant, earnestly acted addition to the ever-expanding catalogue of WWII cinema.