Mel Gibson’s blockbuster, The Passion of the Christ, became the most widely viewed horror film in the history of the genre shortly after its release as droves upon hordes upon crowds pummeled out of Church busses in hopes of meeting their guilt-ridden obligation to do cinematic penance. And that is exactly what they did for, little did they know–with the aide of the Motion Picture Association of America–the only thing to be had during the feature which contains no aesthetic value aside from its cinematography is the director’s theological fascism, innocuously veiled behind its vastly understated R rating, which availed the work’s traumatizing imagery to countless young minds in the hopes of psychologically scarring/scaring them into belief.
For anyone objecting to the proclamation that The Passion of the Christ is a horror film, I offer the following line of reasoning: Gibson’s film is one which depicts, in Newsweek columnist David Ansen’s terms, “flayed, severed, swollen, scarred flesh and rivulets of spilled blood, the crack of bashed bones and the groans of someone enduring the ultimate physical agony.” A production such as this is what is referred to as a snuff film, a work wherein the audience stares voyeuristically on as it safely watches someone’s premeditated execution. With consideration of the act being depicted, a snuff film irrefutably becomes a work of horror. As such, the question should not be whose death we are witnessing: Death in this manner should be viewed as reprehensible regardless of the party. Instead, the principal concern is why a person would voluntarily (to say nothing of paying to) witness another’s prolonged and, at that, excruciating demise.
The work was intentionally mislabeled so as to, not only dodge the essence of the film’s events (which, one would think, would serve the filmmaker’s purposes all the more readily), but to assure apprehensive audiences who would not ordinarily patronize such a showing, The Passion of the Christ’s genre categorization thereby implicitly stating that the “drama” which they are about to watch is of the same ilk as many of their loved dramatic classics, such as Michael Curtiz’s Casablanca, Orson Welles’s Citizen Kane, or Robert Mulligan’s To Kill a Mockingbird. What becomes ironic is that, in so doing, it provides an alibi for persons who would ordinarily object to such violent subject matter (Roger Ebert, who has viewed over 10,000 films in his career, states that The Passion of the Christ is “the most violent film I have ever seen”). For comparative purposes, Eli Roth’s thematically similar Hostel, a film in which people are fatally flayed, is a work which–if shown to church groups–would undoubtedly prompt its audience to depart midway through the feature as it announces the filmmaker’s moral depravity, yet Ebert makes the very astute point that Gibson’s film succeeds in the matter it does for one reason and one reason only: It is Jesus who is being beaten to death. As such, if it had been anyone else on that cross, be it historical or no, it would not be brusque to assume that the film would not have generated over 99.9 percent of its audience.
If one were to be brutally honest (and how could a person not permit such given the circumstance surrounding the matter?), the agenda of the film is not to entertain, educate, or enlighten. Aside from its misconstrued genre labeling, the work was erroneously granted the highly inappropriate rating of R when it should have–given its visceral depiction of a man being sadistically beaten for almost 80 percent of the film’s 127-minute running time–received the notorious NC-17 branding. Of course, the cards were stacked in this regard for the film’s distributor, 20th Century Fox, was aware of the potential audience which the film possessed and, as such, unhesitatingly cast its ballot for a Restricted rating as its representative 1/6 vote on the board of the Motion Picture Association of America (where only a majority is needed to pass). Undoubtedly, the other consenting votes were rooted, if not in dirty money, in the constituency’s theo-political persuasions. And why wouldn’t they? If the film were to have been given a rating which would prohibit persons under the age of seventeen admittance, as opposed to entry with a parent or guardian, Gibson and Co. would not have been afforded the opportunity to indoctrinate formative young minds for, hopefully, life. It wasn’t enough that the film was already guaranteed an audience on the basis of social and church-directed duty, those responsible refused to admit that, if this were indeed what had occurred during the final twelve hours of Christ’s life, that it might not be suitable for minors. (To add insult to injury, Gibson was still yet to be sated. He later reedited the work, cutting approximately five minutes of footage from the film in hopes of being able to generate a rating of “PG-13”–thus permitting persons between the ages of 13-18 to attend without the nuisance of having to procure a chaperon–which the Rating’s Board humbly failed to grant. Instead, the director released his edited version without a rating so as to permit business-conscious theater owners to decide upon their on volition whether or not to admit minors without a guardian.)
Indubitably, the film’s pedantic agenda of conversion by way of a literal lynching is readily achieved for its forces its viewer to sympathize with its central character (recall the last time that you entered midway through the chastising of a small child in public and your innate reactions to such) and, as our inundated Christian nation tells us, He did so for our sake, thus we at least owe Him our faith. However, such reasoning overlooks one fact: Just because you elect to do something using the ruse you are doing so on my behalf without my consent, such doesn’t obligate me to meet to your previously undisclosed, and thereby non-agreed upon, demands for reciprocation. In the learn’d words of John Cleese in respect to Gibson’s production, “If Dick Cheney was scourged and crucified, I’d feel sorry for him, but it wouldn’t bring me any closer to his views.” Furthermore, in such an brash approach to conversion, the non sequitur occurs in that subconscious manipulation (images speak unspoken volumes) eliminates free will for the decision to change one’s views is no longer a solely conscious matter (as opposed to the less convoluted and sensational non-fiction–feature length films are considered fictive artistic entities–address of the circumstances).
Moreover, when considered as a work of art, The Passion of the Christ becomes an oxymoron for, from an aesthetic perspective, no one can argue that it offers nothing outside of artful cinematography but, of course, the basis for entering the theater for this reason alone is akin to purchasing an airplane ticket in order to get free peanuts. The film provides no storyline or plot exposition as it presumptuously assumes that its audience is familiar with the source material and therefore lethargically provides the bare minimum, expecting the audience to fill in the holes, so as to allot more time to its manipulative agenda. We are never given steadfast evidence of the crimes for which Christ is being charged, which becomes especially problematic considering the polarized, conflicting charges brought upon him from opposing camps. The film houses no character development. We are never told why Christ–who has twelve people that are, at least in word, willing to die for his ideas as well as their architect–only has one devotee remaining beside him such a time arrives. For that matter, the apostles are presented as expendable characters for we are never given insight into who they are personally anymore than we are issued the larger-than-life theories upon which they base their allegiance. Lastly, and at first seemingly incongruently, the devout filmmaker makes his philosophically astute titular idol appear to be mentally challenged for, when Christ does speak, it is in barely audible broken phrases. However, Gibson’s decision to portray Jesus in such a manner is unapologetically Machiavellian: We are more willing to sympathize with someone who is, or seems to be, unable to contend with matters at hand whereas we are less likely to commiserate with a character who exhibits power and control.
Even from a “historical” perspective, the film still has problems. Those responsible adamantly cite the work’s veracity despite the fact that Gibson takes the blasphemous liberty of placing actual dialogue in the mouth of Herod during his meeting with Jesus although Luke 23: 9 simply, unequivocally states, “Then he [Herod] questioned with him [Christ] in many words; but he answered him nothing.” Gibson could easily have pulled the camera back, thus placing the two figures in the background and out of earshot, in order for the audience to be able to assess that a one-sided exchange was taking place but not hear what was being voiced. Instead, Gibson takes the initiative to have Herod say “Are you the one whose birth was foretold?” and “Answer me! Are you a king? How about me? Will you work a little magic for me?” Furthermore, there is the inherent contradiction with such a forthright statement in respect to the work’s representative authenticity in that the mere act of translating a text from page to screen is, by definition, a fabrication (strictly defined, a fabrication itself is, in theological terms, a lie) for one is taking the original source material and changing it to so as to make it conform and fit into another medium.
Mel Gibson’s The Passion of the Christ is not a film. Rather, it is a vehicle by which to fashion a plane to prompt a permanent sense of guilty obligation in its viewer. After procuring an audience-admitting rating of R instead of its merited NC-17, the 30 million dollar snuff production didactically, without so much as a semblance of artistic integrity, presents a wrathful, seditious reading of the forgiving New Testament Gospels with the unabashed intent of scaring its audience, to the point of trauma if necessary, into conversion. However, in so doing, Gibson does accomplish something of a miracle: After The Passion of the Christ, Charlton Heston is not longer seen as a burden but rather a welcome relief.
Trivia tidbit: Irony of all ironies, after spending weeks seated at Number One at the Box Office, The Passion of the Christ was finally dethroned by Zack Snyder’s resurrected dead, Dawn of the Dead.
-Egregious Gurnow
- Interview with J.R. Bookwalter - January 22, 2015
- Interview with Andrew J. Rausch - January 22, 2015
- Interview with Rick Popko and Dan West - January 22, 2015
- Interview with Director Stevan Mena (Malevolence) - January 22, 2015
- Interview with Screenwriter Jeffery Reddick (Day of the Dead 2007) - January 22, 2015
- Teleconference interview with Mick Garris (Masters of Horror) - January 22, 2015
- A Day at the Morgue with Corri English (Unrest) - January 22, 2015
- Interview with Writer/Director Nacho Cerda (The Abandoned, Aftermath) - January 22, 2015
- Interview with Actress Thora Birch (Dark Corners, The Hole, American Beauty) - January 22, 2015
- Interview with Actor Jason Behr, Plus Skinwalkers Press Coverage - January 22, 2015
