The Passion of the Plum

Gentle Readers,

Some time in the misty past, Mr. Roth and I (when we had the wondrous Netflix in the far off land of AZ) embarked upon a Jesus-themed film fest. Mr. Roth had been rashly reading biographies of Jesus. His sometime mentor, appropriately named Angel, once warned me that Mr. Roth was perilously close to entering the seminary, but I don't think that my atheist spouse is in any imminent danger of entering the priesthood. Besides, I don't think either of us is suited to celibacy.

Surprisingly, I really liked Mel Gibson's The Passion of the Christ (2004). Please do not misunderstand me, my dear readers, I have yet to forgive Mr. Gibson for the travesty popularly known as Braveheart (1995). Someday, when I'm feeling especially vituperative, I shall tell you all about the depth of my feelings on this film. Suffice it to say that my favourite part was the quartering of "Wallace", who might have been called "Bubba" for all the resemblance he bore to the historical subject of the piece. It is always fun to see Mel being tortured, although this pleasure is mitigated by the obvious enjoyment Mr. Gibson derives from his pseudo-torture. Notwithstanding his previous willful and wanton celluloid crime against humanity, I have to admit that the arrogant ass did a good job with this one. The languages were particularly pleasing to us; even I understood most of the Italianate Latin spoken (and my Latin is scanty and medieval besides). Mr. Roth could understand some of the Aramaic too.

Before you ask, yes, there is a great deal of torture in the film. This didn't bother Mr. Roth, an acknowledged sadist. He was inclined to view the violent torture as a positive attribute. I am fairly squeamish about visceral sorts of violence, but after all, Christ's suffering was rather the point of the whole endeavor, so I thought it was appropriate. I also didn't quite see the furor about the film's alleged anti-Semitism. (Gibson himself may be a bigoted, sexist ass, but that doesn't mean his film has to be tarred with the same idiotic brush). Every character in the film, apart from the Romans (some of whom enjoyed the torture just a tad too much), was Jewish. Like all people, some were good, some were bad, some were indifferent. It was a little difficult and puzzling to me that the film should, as a whole, be seen as anti-Semetic when Jesus, the apostles and various kind strangers (including Veronica, whom I was very glad to see included in the film) were also Jewish. Pilate was let off the hook to a certain extent, but after all, a provincial Roman governor is hardly likely to be keen on getting involved with a non-political religious figure. Some debate, also, was shown amongst the Jewish Elders, so it is not a simple or one-sided portrait. Besides, from what I understand of Christian theology, no mere mortal is really responsible for the "killing" of Christ. The central premise is that God's son had to choose to die...that it was necessary for him to die in order to grant humankind a new covenant with God. Without this ultimate sacrifice, there could be no new Covenant between God and man. In these terms, all of the human protagonists (the unfortunate Judas is especially moving here) are merely instruments of God's will. (It might be argued that Christianity, as a religion and inherently, is anti-Semetic…the child turning against its' parent so to speak…but that is an argument which will not be explored here or by me).

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I also rather enjoyed a "New Yawker" Christ in Scorcese's The Last Temptation of Christ (1988). Please let me begin by ameliorating my criticisms with the observation that I generally admire both Willem Defoe (Jesus) and Harvey Keitel (Judas) in their other films. However, they are both rather amusingly led astray by a very odd, disjointed storyline and sometimes unintentionally hilarious dialogue.

I'm afraid that I am not inclined to make any excuse for Barbara Hershey's sexy, but rather ridiculous Mary Magdalene. She is not a favourite actress of mine. (Incidentally, I cannot understand why no one has yet made a revisionist film with Mary Magdalene as a fully fledged disciple; a church leader not a lowly prostitute. It is rather surprising with the taste for revisionist stuff and if many would consider it blasphemy, many would doubtless welcome it. My own grandfather, a southern Baptist minister, was extremely offended by the notion that Mary Magdalene was a prostitute and would gladly whip out his Greek New Testament to vehemently argue his point).

I was not offended by the "last temptation". To clarify; I was not offended by its oft-alleged blasphemy. I was, however, offended by its rank stupidity. It was monstrously condescending to both the audience and the protagonist, who is supposed to have been stupid enough to be taken in by an "angel" who was so obviously demonic that it ought to have been wearing little pointy red horns and wagging a forked tail.

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We also watched Zefferelli's Jesus of Nazareth (1977). I remember vaguely watching this with my mother and sister when I was a child. I was already a big fan of the beautiful Olivia Hussey (Mary, the mother of Jesus), who had previously starred in Zefferelli's Romeo and Juliet. The cast is stellar (including the magnificent Ian Holm, one of my absolute favourite actors in a small role, the talented Rod Steiger as Pontius Pilate and a passionate Michael York as John the Baptist) and it is well-produced but somehow rather stiff and distant from its central character. It isn't that Robert Powell (who plays Christ) isn't good. If find him a very believable Jesus Christ, but he is also somewhat ethereal, which is very effective for certain scenes but less effective for others. The astonishingly good cast, including James Earl Jones, Christopher Plummer, Ian Shane, Donald Pleasance, Laurence Olivier, Anne Bancroft, James Mason, Anthony Quinn, Ralph Richardson, Peter Ustinov, Stacy Keach are reason enough to give the mini-series a look. The look and feel is much more genuine than so many of the earlier adaptations of Jesus's life.

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Speaking of earlier adaptations, Mr. Roth and I were astonished and amused to discover that Jesus, contrary to popular belief, actually lived in the picturesque, Sonoran deserts of Arizona, in The Greatest Story ever Told (1965). Although I adore Max von Sydow (yes, even in Judge Dredd), his English language debut was less than stellar. The Jesus-dark hair didn't suit him and the whole film was more a series of artistic tableux than a movie (not that this was seen as a disadvantage by Mr. Roth).

Like Zefferelli's Jesus of Nazareth, the film does have an enviable cast; including Jose Ferrer as Herod Antipas, Dorothy McGuire as the Virgin Mary, Martin Landau as Caiaphas, David McCallum as Judas Iscariot and a host of other big names in very small parts (Sidney Poitier as Simon of Cyrene, Roddy MacDowell as Matthew, Claude Rains, Donald Pleasence…a Jesus regular, John Wayne (!), Angela Lansbury, Shelley Winters, Ed Wynn). Telly Savalas is hilariously miscast as Pontius Pilate.

But my absolute favourite…the undisputed KING of them all, the one who chewed the austere, lovely, artistic scenery into little, itty, bitty, shreds…dripping with passionate spittle…was…

Charlton Heston as John 'the Baptist'.

Yup. Moses was back. And he was mad.

Heston's John the Baptist has the distinction of being the most robust, kick-ass, muscular, violent prophet that I have ever seen on film. He lacked the gravitas that he displayed as Moses in The Ten Commandments (1956), but more than made up for it with his marvelous sixties bouffant hairstyle, aggressive evangelism and generally defiant attitude (not to mention his fetching animal skin loincloth).

Some sample dialogue:

(King Herod Antipas's guards have come to arrest John where he's been preaching and baptizing folks at the River Jordan).

Head Guard: "We've got orders to take you to Herod."

John the Baptist: "I've got orders to take you to God!!!"

Guard: "Will you go with us quietly?"

John the Baptist: "I won't go with you at all!!!"

(At this point, four or five guards dismount and wade into the water to arrest John. Soon, he is flailing around with mighty abandon, guards literally hanging off his arms as if he were Samson. At another point, he is dunking one of the guards in the water and forcibly "baptizing" him while screaming "Repent! Repent!"

Later...in Herod's dungeon, even burdened with impressive chains and manacles, John is still fighting the good fight and swinging several hapless guards around when Herod comes up to the bars to talk with him...)

Herod: "I've heard a lot about you."

John: "I've heard a lot about YOU, Herod, and none of it good!"

You get the general idea. It's a pity his character isn't in more scenes; the generally turgid movie perks up whenever he's on screen.