|
July
Our Passion for Passion
“Passion” as a word has migrated at some
point from its original simple meaning of
“suffering” to generally describe a deep
desire for someone or something, a suffering with
desire. Like most words that get used a lot, this
mutated further into “passion
lite”—a passion is something one likes to
be engaged in, more often a delight rather than a
longing and a suffering.
Mel Gibson’s Passion, is a return to the
story that made this word a key to Western culture.
The Passion, i.e., the suffering and execution of
Jesus of Nazareth has set an indelible stamp on
world history whether we are followers of the
Nazarene or not. It is not “passion lite”
or “violence lite.”
Not surprising, retelling this story is a highly
controversial act. From the violence visited on one
man who thought outside of the box and bucked the
system we have inherited not only an enduring
paradigm for compassion, freedom of thought,
respect and concern for one’s neighbor, but
depending on the end user’s needs and
intentions, the man’s name and his story has
become lever for contemporary as well as historical
violence. In his name (and against his name) come
persecution, anti-semitism, crusades and
conquistadores, witch hunts, genocide and isms of
all sorts.
For viewers and reviewers of the film, Passion
became a touchstone for the good and bad, the
gentle and the incendiary in their personal and
collective memories. As these passions surge, it
becomes harder and harder to view the Passion. Some
find release and purpose in it, others find fuel
for their angers.
I attempted to view the film without an axe to
grind. I found it plusible, fair, and without an
overlying agenda. It told its tale definitely from
a believer’s point of view. It did not target
anyone, but showed an assortment of fallible human
beings, some Roman, some Jewish, some of JC’s
followers. There were both cruel as well as
dedicated military as one might find in any
occupation force. There were also responsible
people and protesters on all sides. Given the
reviews I have seen, it appears that some went to
the film with a need to see something that
wasn’t there. Most rabbis who have reviewed it
found it authentic and reasonable. That it gives
just the simple story of the Gospels to an
ahistorical generation that no longer reads about
dead white men or much of anything and, for this
reason, is probably a service to cultural
literacy.
Many of the scenes looked like they were
deliberately based on the old masters and religious
art of the middle ages and renaissance
(Pieta)—visual echos. Yes lots of blood, but
not more than you find on the crucifixes in the
Spanish missions in California or in the medieval
cathedrals.
It is important to remember the blood is the key
of the redemption in the Christian story. It is so
to speak the “red” thread that runs
intentionally through the story. On the other hand,
bloody as it is, even this movie is sanitized and
does not compare with real torture and passion for
death that is alive and well today as we all know.
The film’s focus on passion and suffering is
an antidote to big screen big bang violence. It
takes us away from the vengeful Kill Bill and
Terminator type gore. It lets us realize what
happens via politics to innocent people and in
particular to those who directly or indirectly
challenge the system, today as yesterday.
The story was done with relatively good
attention to the texts of the Gospels (not
forgetting that these are also believers’
stories), and to historical setting. Slightly less
litteral and more graphic than Pasolini’s
simple telling of the Gospel according to Saint
Matthew, which some will recall (1965) was also
controversial, perhaps more because the director
was gay, Marxist and an atheist. There were few
anachronisms—no Roman soldiers wearing Seikos.
The film ended around a resurrection scene and no
intimation whatever of revenge, though apparently
some viewers seemed to project an echo of
“Jesus is coming, and boy is he pissed
off!” Certainly reactions are formed by the
historical context in which viewers live: Pasolini
was accused of making Christ a communist avant la
lettre; Gibson is now seen by some as following a
rightest fundamentalist zeitgeist.
Most importantly, there were no excursions into
literary fantasy, such as that of Nikos
Kazantzakis, which Martin Scorcese brought to the
big screen in 1988, e.g., the obligatory
“affair” between Jesus and Mary Magdalen,
the “bathrobe” spectacules or fictional
intrigues that Hollywood is so famous for and which
today has found a place in Dan Brown’s
page-turner, the Davinci Code.
Gibson chose to have the actors speak the
languages of the time. Being a survivor of a
classical education, I could understand the Latin
without the subtitles and you get the feel of the
Aramaic if you know a little bit of Hebrew.
Fidelity to the story as the story is told seemed
to be primary in the director’s mind. And
perhaps this allows the story to be not just
another tinseltown drama but an occasion to examine
volence and suffering in a relatively pure form as
it touches us and observe what images, feelings,
fears, judgements and it touches off in us. Art has
this effect. It is about how we see ourselves and
what we tend to project on others.
There is the issue of how you show the “bad
guys.” There were a lot of uglies on both
sides (the Jews didn’t invent the Roman nose!)
and lots of “good looking” high priests,
etc. There was a personification of Satan as a kind
of androgynous character, perhaps with a gay feel,
but who can tell. The major issue is who is made to
be the baddie. This is not peculiar to
Gibson’s film but an issue in almost all
films. Connecting ugly and bad is a lookism issue
that seems to be insolvable in all forms of art,
but particularly in cinema. We seem to have a need
to give evil a face—as long as it is not ours.
This has a lot to do with how we love or hate
people, show them compassion or treat them with
violence.
As the theme of this column is searching out the
roots of violence in US culture, Gibson’s film
reminds us that we cannot forget that the Jesus
story is implicated. How one views this story has
consequences for how one chooses to live out
perhaps one’s faith or refusal of faith, but
more importantly today at what level one subscribes
to the civil religion of the USA that is so imbued
with values from the religious refugees who
colonized the land with their own sort of
passion.
© 2008 George
Simons
Other Resources Books
Periodicals
* * *
There are no elements so diverse that they cannot
be joined in the heart of a man. - Jean
Giraudoux
George Simons
is a US specialist in intercultural and gender
communication who hangs out in Mandelieu - la
Napoule, France, as well as in Santa Cruz, CA. In
the 1980’s he was one of the founders of the
Hidden Valley Center for Men and the Cyberguys
network. He is currently the treasurer on the board
of The National Men's Resource Center™. He is
on the faculty of Management Centre Europe, where
he consults on virtual global teamwork. He has
written over a dozen books on culture and gender
including Working
Together: How to Become More Effective
in a Multicultural
Organization and
with Deborah G. Weissman, Men
& Women: Partners at
Work. (Crisp
Foundation) and is the creator of the award-winning
Diversophy® game. www.diversophy.com
or E-Mail.
Contact
Us |
Disclaimer
| Privacy
Statement
Menstuff®
Directory
Menstuff® is a registered trademark of Gordon
Clay
©1996-2023, Gordon Clay
|
