Wow. What can be said about this movie? It doesn't just flirt with blasphemy; it treats blasphemy to dinner and a show before an evening of heavy petting at the local lover's lane. This alone will rile many viewers, but it does not bother me. My problem with this movie lies in an entirely different direction.
(May Contain Spoilers)
This movie is a triumph of execrable writing, pretentious dialogue, and acting for which the word "bad" is entirely insufficient. After seeing Mel Gibson's brilliant "Passion of the Christ," with Semitic-looking actors speaking in Aramaic and Latin, watching Harvey Keitel in flaming Irish red hair and Brooklyn accent play Judas was a real shock. There are other shocks in store, such as a John the Baptist; who, rather than preaching repentance, incites Jesus to violent overthrow of the Romans; John's disciples, who are either in the grip of religious ecstasy or crippling madness (I found the three nude women swaying their heads in unison and mumbling incoherently to be particularly disturbing), and one mind-bending scene in which Jesus pulls out his own heart with one hand while holding an axe in the other.
The movie's main problem is Jesus himself. Willem Defoe's Jesus is a wimpy crybaby. He could give Anakin Skywalker a run for his money ("I don't *wanna* be the Son of God! I wanna go to Tahashi Station and pick up some power converters!). And speaking of Star Wars references, Satan's temptation in the desert seems to have been lifted from Darth Vader's "Luke, join me" speech. Not that the effects budget of this turkey matched that of a Lucas film--"Satan" in that scene seemed to be a flaming gas burner buried just under the sand and turned up on "hi." Jesus' self-pitying lines ("my God is fear," etc) ensured that I would feel no sympathy with this character.
The cinematography was visually jarring and unpleasant to watch. The casting was woefully mismanaged. I have seen all the "anglo-Jesus" films, and a Brooklyn Judas and blonde, bushy-bearded Midwestern Nathaniel would have been easier to take had not the supporting cast looked like they all came from Southern India! The heterogeneity of the cast torpedoed all suspension of disbelief.
For the final insult, Scorsese employs the ultimate narrative cop-out: it was all a dream! Or a hallucination, or whatever. I realize this was the ending in the book, but the movie could have been something better.
The purpose implicit in this piece of cinematic excrement is the de-sanctification of Jesus Christ by "filthy dreamers" who "despise dominion and speak evil of dignities (Jude 1:8)," and I have no problem with that. My problem is that this is a Martin Scorsese film. The same guy who gave us "Goodfellas" and "Raging Bull" shortchanges his audience with this pretentious garbage. I expect better from a filmmaker of Scorsese's stature; even if it is blasphemous, a movie should be good! I am mystified by the praise lavished on this compost pile, and I tell you truly, "polish a turd, it's still a turd."
(May Contain Spoilers)
This movie is a triumph of execrable writing, pretentious dialogue, and acting for which the word "bad" is entirely insufficient. After seeing Mel Gibson's brilliant "Passion of the Christ," with Semitic-looking actors speaking in Aramaic and Latin, watching Harvey Keitel in flaming Irish red hair and Brooklyn accent play Judas was a real shock. There are other shocks in store, such as a John the Baptist; who, rather than preaching repentance, incites Jesus to violent overthrow of the Romans; John's disciples, who are either in the grip of religious ecstasy or crippling madness (I found the three nude women swaying their heads in unison and mumbling incoherently to be particularly disturbing), and one mind-bending scene in which Jesus pulls out his own heart with one hand while holding an axe in the other.
The movie's main problem is Jesus himself. Willem Defoe's Jesus is a wimpy crybaby. He could give Anakin Skywalker a run for his money ("I don't *wanna* be the Son of God! I wanna go to Tahashi Station and pick up some power converters!). And speaking of Star Wars references, Satan's temptation in the desert seems to have been lifted from Darth Vader's "Luke, join me" speech. Not that the effects budget of this turkey matched that of a Lucas film--"Satan" in that scene seemed to be a flaming gas burner buried just under the sand and turned up on "hi." Jesus' self-pitying lines ("my God is fear," etc) ensured that I would feel no sympathy with this character.
The cinematography was visually jarring and unpleasant to watch. The casting was woefully mismanaged. I have seen all the "anglo-Jesus" films, and a Brooklyn Judas and blonde, bushy-bearded Midwestern Nathaniel would have been easier to take had not the supporting cast looked like they all came from Southern India! The heterogeneity of the cast torpedoed all suspension of disbelief.
For the final insult, Scorsese employs the ultimate narrative cop-out: it was all a dream! Or a hallucination, or whatever. I realize this was the ending in the book, but the movie could have been something better.
The purpose implicit in this piece of cinematic excrement is the de-sanctification of Jesus Christ by "filthy dreamers" who "despise dominion and speak evil of dignities (Jude 1:8)," and I have no problem with that. My problem is that this is a Martin Scorsese film. The same guy who gave us "Goodfellas" and "Raging Bull" shortchanges his audience with this pretentious garbage. I expect better from a filmmaker of Scorsese's stature; even if it is blasphemous, a movie should be good! I am mystified by the praise lavished on this compost pile, and I tell you truly, "polish a turd, it's still a turd."