47 - 1973-Year of the Religious Film

1973-Year of the Religious Film
By David W. Pomeroy

NOT since the heyday of Cecil B. DeMille have there been as many films with explicitly religious themes as there were in 1973. Godspell and Jesus Christ, Superstar are the most significant, but also there was Johnny Cash's The Gospel Road, Zeffirelli's Brother Sun, Sister Moon, and (by stretching a point) Siddhartha and Jonathan Livingston Seagull-culminating at year's end with the cultural phenomenon of The Exorcist. And if we went back to 1972 (important for comparative purposes), to this list could be added Greaser's Palace, Marjoe, and The Trial of the Catonsville Nine.

In a time of purported declining interest in organized religion, what are we to make of this upsurge in filmic treatments? To some extent it can be related to counter-culture and "Jesus freak" interests in matters of the spirit, and movie moguls are ever-ready to exploit perceived socio-cultural fads. But beyond financial considerations there are elements in each of these films that are important for the interface between theology, media, and popular culture.

Some theologians of culture balk at the validity of communicating explicitly spiritual truth through a two-dimensional, nondialogical medium like film. For example, James E. Sellers (in The Outsider and the Word of God1) eschews biblical categories within the mass media (not because they are outmoded but because they are too familiar) and opts for a re-symbolization based on human anxieties about finitude which allows the truth of the gospel to be communicated only indirectly through these media. Sellers fears that church and the gospel may lose their suffering servant quality through the impersonality of these media.

Certainly in harking back to The Ten Commandments, The Greatest Story Ever Told, or even the noble effort of Pasolini's The Gospel According to St. Matthew, the vacuity of utilizing explicit Christian symbols is clear. Of the present crop, The Gospel Road also fails along these lines but, interestingly so, because of the use of folk-country music to give at least a soupcon of re-symbolization.

David W. Pomeroy is Associate Director of Broadcasting for the Broadcasting and Film Commission of the National Council of Churches. He recently served as the Broadcasting and Film Commission liaison with NBC in producing "Duty Bound," a drama dealing with amnesty which received an Emmy award. A minister in the United Church of Christ, he has served parishes in New York State and has published film criticism in several publications.
¹ Cf. especially Chapters V and VI. Abingdon Press, New York and Nashville, 1961.

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However, of the other three films among the above-mentioned list of 10 that treat the gospel story, each has an artistic uniqueness and an attempt at re-symbolization that make direct communication of the gospel possible. Least effective, though in some ways most interesting, is Greaser's Palace, which deals with the Christ-event through satire and black humor. Robert Downey is asserting filmicly that the mythic trappings of religion are irrelevant to our time, but there is also a strange affirmation (of man? of God? of a mixture?) underneath.

In the film version of Jesus Christ, Superstar, Norman Jewison has made two important directorial decisions which work as resymbolization. First, he treats Superstar as opera with no dialogue. Opera is a highly stylized medium, dealing principally in charged emotions rather than analytical development. Thus, the music allows us to get inside the emotive power of Jesus', the disciples', and the first-century Palestinians' encounters with each other. Second, he shows us the actors as actors-trying on the roles given to them. Thus, we are not given a contemporary Passion Play so much as a group of humans singing their feelings about their characters. In the process they are changed, and we-the audience-are invited to experience that change along with them-a most meaningful way for anyone to encounter the Christ-event.

By far, though, the most impressive achievement of the year is Godspell. Again through music and the most explicit of symbols (direct Scripture) it conveys the gospel as celebration. This is not the whole gospel, but as Tom Driver wrote to me in responding to my critical comment on Pasolini's Matthew that it was not the whole gospel: "I wonder if it is in any way a negative thing to say that a work … is not the whole gospel. It seems to me it is sufficient and laudable if what we get is: (1) true to itself, and (2) true to any part of the gospel. The whole gospel would be a new incarnation." I now believe this to be so, and Godspell is true to that part of the gospel we often miss: a basic, affirmative celebration of life. Because this is so, the weakest part of the film is the crucifixion scene, and it flirts with the danger Sellers cites of losing the suffering servant quality of the gospel. But the opening up of the film from the stage play does allow David Greene and John-Michael Tebelak to communicate the Good News of freedom. Godspell sets us free in a way no film dealing with an explicit biblical theme ever has before.

Brother Sun, Sister Moon and Siddhartha are notable mainly for their stunning visual effects; their content ranges from nondescripi to puerile. Marjoe is mildly interesting as a cynical semi-documentary on some contemporary forms of institutional religion. But Jonathan Livingston Seagull is another matter, for the movie makes even clearer than the book what a strange amalgam Jonathan is of Ayn Rand objectivism and Christian koinonia. Jonathan is the classic individualist who, after banishment, death and resurrection,

49 - 1973-Yeaar of the Religious Film

and increased knowledge of life, returns to the flock, shares his commitment with others, and refuses to let official censure keep him from the fellowship of community. The film reasonably communicates Jonathan not so much as a Christ-figure, but as an image of heroic possibilities within a context of realism, but yet a heightened perception of reality. Once again, music plays an important part.

In a class by itself is The Trial of the Catonsville Nine-Gregory Peck's film version of Dan Berrigan's play. It is the one example here of "positive witness," which is "born of the artist's desire to celebrate the facts of Christian existence as they have become meaningful to him."² Christian service, arising from conviction and commitment, and presenting lives and events actually involved in Christian activity in the world, may well be, as Martin Marty points out, the one form of direct communication with which the media can be most effective.³ Godspell and Trial are the two most significant explicitly religious films of the past two years.

Which brings us, finally, to The Exorcist-a film more significant as cultural phenomenon than for any religious content. The salient point for this discussion is that the exorcism does not work, and Father Damion resorts to violence out of his guilt and frustration to transpose the demon from Regan to himself. Thus, philosophically, humankind is once more depicted as inherently violent (the Ardrey-Lorenz thesis). There are no depths of faith here to be probed, and The Exorcist becomes no less nihilistic in its impact than A Clockwork Orange or The Ruling Class. Those now in long lines waiting to see this film may not be disappointed in terms of shock and terror, but they will find nothing helpful in the way of re-symbolization or direct communication of gospel truth.

Theologically, the one fascinating aspect of this plethora of religious films is a lack of adequate treatment of resurrection. Superstar offers only an enigmatic shepherd. Jonathan treats it lightheartedly: "Don't let them … make me a God…. I'm a seagull." Greaser's Palace presents an explicit symbol, but it is obfuscated by the preceding satire. The Exorcist has only death and daimonic victory. Only Godspell offers some slight insight by locating resurrection within the lives of individuals, who are nevertheless a crowd. The scandal of the cross-and of the empty tomb-remain with us, as even good filmic examples of re-symbolization and direct communication fail to deal with the central mystery of Christian faith. To paraphrase Ferlinghetti, I am still waiting for a rebirth of a film auteur St. Paul.

² Tom F. Driver, "The Arts and the Christian Evangel," The Christian Scholar, Volume XL, Number 4, December, 1957, p. 336.
³ The Improper Opinion, The Westminster Press, Philadelphia, 1961, p. 114.