Bishop Robert Barron on “Risen”

The Appeal of The Young Messiah

The following comes from Kathy Schiffer at Aleteia:

“Captivating, inspiring and deeply moving” is the endorsement offered by Cardinal Sean O’Malley, archbishop of Boston, for Motive Entertainment’s new film, The Young Messiah.

Charles J. Chaput, archbishop of Philadelphia, is similarly enthusiastic. He called it, “a portrait true to biblical faith but without sentimentality … an exceptional movie, engaging from start to finish; a film worth seeing and owning and seeing again.”

And Archbishop Thomas Wenski, of Miami, said of the film, “This presentation of The Young Messiah perhaps opens a door into people’s hearts that otherwise would have been shut because of their fear of God, anger with God or indifference to God.”

The Young Messiah, which opened in theaters yesterday, promises to be one of the best Christian-themed releases during this Lenten season. Steven Greydanus gave it a “thumbs up” in his review at the National Catholic Register, calling it “a smart, moving take on a hidden year in Jesus’ life that both believers and nonbelievers can enjoy.” Steve McEveety, CEO of Mpower and a producer of The Passion of the Christ, has said that it “succeeds beautifully in imagining the mystery.” Praise continues to pour in from pastors and church leaders across America.

The film, directed by Cyrus Nowrasteh and his wife and writing partner, Betsy (The Stoning of Soraya M), imagines a year in the childhood of Jesus, a time about which the Scriptures tell us little. Oh, we know from Luke’s gospel about the infant Jesus’ birth in Bethlehem, and about his family’s flight into Egypt to escape the evil Herod. But then we don’t see him again until years later, in the Temple at Jerusalem, when he had somehow become separated from his parents — and then not again until he begins his adult ministry at age 30.

But when he was a child, did he understand his divinity? Could he heal the sick, raise the dead and work other miracles?

The Young Messiah asks that question and then shows the child Jesus exercising powers that are unique to God. But the film isn’t the first to consider this possibility: When the seven-year-old Jesus holds a drowned bird in his hands in The Young Messiah and gives him new life, I am reminded of the apocryphal Infancy Gospel of Thomas which dates to the second century. In that narrative, Jesus breathed life into inanimate birds his friends had fashioned from clay. In the same story he resurrected a friend who fell from a roof (similar to the boy who trips on an apple and dies in the streets of Alexandria in The Young Messiah).

Must we believe these imaginative tales from Jesus’ boyhood? Of course not — but there is nothing in the Scriptures to prevent us from pondering what it must have meant to be God in the body of a small boy.

Anne Rice imagined Jesus’ boyhood in her 2005 bestseller Christ the Lord: Out of Egypt, on which the movie is based. It hints that although Herod the Great was dead, the Holy Family was still threatened by his son, Herod Antipas. The Young Messiah assumes that the younger Herod followed in his father’s footsteps, launching a search for the child Jesus that placed his family in peril once again.

And beyond Herod, there is an otherworldly antagonist, a dark-caped demon who is visible to the Christ Child but not to others in his vicinity. The boy Jesus struggles to understand what this means and seeks to understand his own inexplicable powers. His parents and extended family have shielded him from the truth of his unusual birth, of the visit by the Magi and of the tragic slaughter of the innocents that occurred at the command of Herod the Great. At the Temple he finally hears those stories for the first time.

Noah Movie Review by Fr. Robert Barron

Steven D. Greydanus Reviews ‘Noah’

The following comes from NCR:

Darren Aronofsky’s Noah pays its source material a rare compliment: It takes Genesis seriously as a landmark of world literature and ancient moral reflection and a worthy source of artistic inspiration in our day.

It is not a “Bible movie” in the usual sense, with all the story beats predetermined by the text and actors in ancient Near Eastern couture hitting their marks and saying all the expected things. It is something more vital, surprising and confounding: a work of art and imagination that makes this most familiar of tales strange and new: at times illuminating the text, at times stretching it to the breaking point and at times inviting cross-examination and critique.

For many pious moviegoers, I suspect some of the film’s more provocative flourishes will be a bridge too far, while the biblical subject matter may be off-putting to less pious viewers. Have Aronofsky (raised with a Jewish education) and co-writer Ari Handel made a film that’s too religious for secular viewers and too secular for religious ones? Who is the audience?

Well, I am, to begin with. For a lifelong Bible geek and lover of movie-making and storytelling like me, Noah is a rare gift: a blend of epic spectacle, startling character drama and creative reworking of Scripture and other ancient Jewish and rabbinic writings. It’s a movie with much to look at, much to think about and much to feel; a movie to argue about and argue with.

It’s certainly not the picture-book story that most of us grow up with, all cheerful ark-building, adorable animals and a gravely pious, white-bearded protagonist. Noah, played by a flinty, authoritative Russell Crowe, is the hero, but that doesn’t make him saintly. Or, if he is saintly, it’s worth recalling that some of the saints could be off-putting, harsh and even ruthless. We want our heroes to be paragons of virtue and enlightenment. Yet when you get down to it, the difference between Moses or David and corrupt Hophni and Phineas is one of degree, not kind. We are all made of the same fallen stuff.

Read the rest here!

Jesus hits the big screen

Son of God: A Film Review by Brandon Vogt

Brandon Vogt from Motive Entertainment on Vimeo.
The movie looks impressive and opens on Friday, February 28.  For more on the film "Son of God" please go here.

Time for New Year's Resolutions: "In the land of beginning again"

The time for New Year's resolutions are upon us! God bless you in all of yours and have a very Happy New Year!

Fr. Robert Barron comments on The Shawshank Redemption

‘The Wolverine’ Movie Review

The following comes from Steven Greydanus:

Summer action spectacles, including superhero movies, have been ratcheting up the stakes so high that apocalypticism has become routine. These days, its a rarity to find a popcorn action spectacle or superhero film in which the fate of the planet, the country or at least one metropolis is not at stake, with brawling heroes and villains leveling buildings and ravaging cities, while perhaps some sort of doomsday weapon threatens even more catastrophic destruction.

The Wolverine, with Hugh Jackman reprising his best-known role as Marvel Comics’ popular mutant antihero, is that rarity. It’s true that Wolverine, or Logan as he’s also called, isn’t in the same power league as Superman or even Iron Man. Then again, neither is Batman, and look at his films. EvenThe Lone Ranger raised the action to genocidal levels, blew up bridges and spectacularly destroyed three trains (or was it only two?).

Comparatively speaking, The Wolverine could be called a human-scaled, almost intimate film. Outside a World War II prologue set near Nagasaki, no cities are threatened. When, in the film’s best set piece, the hero battles villains atop a 300-mph bullet train, few if any of the train’s passengers even notice.

The root inspiration for the film is an influential 1982 comic-book miniseries by Chris Claremont and Frank Miller, which, along with Miller’s contemporaneous work on Daredevil, revolutionized comics by blending superhero action with both Eastern and Western cinematic motifs: on the one hand, martial arts, ninjas and the like; on the other, film noir conventions, including hard-boiled first-person narration.

Voice-over narration might have been a nice touch in The Wolverine, but director James Mangold (who previously directed Jackman in the timey-wimey romcom Kate and Leopold) and the screenwriters stick with the Asian influences. After a first act set in the Canadian Yukon, Logan travels to Japan, where he finds himself caught up in a conflict involving three generations of the Yashida family, battling yakuza gangsters, armies of ninjas and a version of a character called the Silver Samurai against a backdrop that includes both modern Tokyo settings and traditional Japanese architecture.

This “Eastern Western” approach to superhero action is as fresh on the big screen today as it was in the comics 30 years ago. It’s a big part of what makes The Wolverine feel sui generis among contemporary Hollywood action and superhero movies. (Pacific Rim has a similar Asian-American fusion vibe, but it also suffers from advanced apocalyptitis — not to mention a script, characters and cast as dull as bokken, or wooden practice swords.)

Logan’s first cinematic solo outing, directed by Gavin Hood, was a rote origin story that made little effort to get inside its hero’s head. In particular, there was no real interest in what it was like to be essentially unkillable or to live for the better part of two centuries without aging past one’s prime.

The Wolverine does somewhat better in this regard. Haunted by dreams of Famke Jennsen’s Jean Grey, whom he was forced to kill in the climax of X-Men 3, Logan struggles both with guilt and with an immortal’s fear of losing everyone he cares about. The aging paterfamilias of the Yashida family suggests to him that a life without death is a life without meaning — that only mortality can allow Logan to be truly human.

Logan’s crazy healing gift, even more extreme in the movies than in the traditional comic-book depiction, make him almost as invulnerable as Superman. But what if knife cuts and bullet wounds didn’t just melt away on him?

The Wolverine plays with what mortality and vulnerability would mean for Logan, in a way reminiscent of Peter Parker’s power fluctuations in Spider-Man 2. (There are also echoes of Iron Man, with Wolverine performing wincing, life-threatening surgery on his own chest.) ChristianityToday.com critic Jackson Cuidon aptly compares The Wolverine’s approach to the 1980s shift from indestructible action heroes like Rambo to vulnerable ones like John MacClane in Die Hard.

The story includes three prominent female characters. The pink-tressed ninja chick Yukio is played by Japanese model Rila Fukushima, who, with her kickboxing, startlingly heart-shaped face and unflappably cheery demeanor, seems to have stepped right out of some manga or anime series. Elegant Mariko, granddaughter of Yashida, is played by another Japanese model, Tao Okamoto. The source material dictates that Logan will fall for Mariko, although Yukio (who winkingly styles herself Logan’s “bodyguard”) makes perhaps the stronger impression and might have been the more natural love interest.

Then there’s Russian actress Svetlana Khodchenkova as a villainess named Viper, whose presence in the story isn’t really warranted (nor for that matter are her increasingly comic-booky outfits, especially with Logan never wearing anything like a Wolverine costume) — but Khodchenkova acts as ifshe belongs, and that’s almost enough. (Unfortunately, whether because she couldn’t handle the English dialogue, or for some other reason, it seems all her lines have been redubbed by another actress.)

In my review of the earlier Wolverine movie, I complained that the character was never depicted struggling with his violent, bestial side. This film makes some effort to rectify that: It opens with Logan attempting to swear off violence altogether, though, of course, he can’t stick to it. Then it turns much more violent than the first film, with Logan making ample use of his claws (though, for the sake of the PG-13 rating, the violence remains pretty bloodless).

In his most callous, antiheroic moment, Logan uses deadly force against a disgusting but helpless enemy, not killing him only by accident. The real reason he survives, of course, is that the filmmakers don’t want to make their hero a murderer in fact; but his moral choice isn’t cross-examined as it should be.

The upshot is a striking action movie with a unique aesthetic, some intriguing themes that the movie never quite delivers on and a pretty conventional climax. Jackman’s star power remains a reliable asset; he can still make this character worth watching after playing him for 13 years in five films (or six, if you count his one-line cameo in X-Men: First Class) — both records for an actor playing a superhero. (Christopher Reeve played Superman in four films over nine years; Robert Downey Jr. has played Iron Man in four films, with a cameo in a fifth.)

It’s not a great film, but it’s a pretty good one. This year, that’s enough to make The Wolverine not only the season’s best superhero film, but arguably its best popcorn action movie: a gingery palate cleanser in a summer of overcooked Big Macs.

Man of Steel and Cross of Wood

The following comes from the Catholic World Report:

Among the great Christ figures of world literature, Superman is our country’s best such figure by, literally, leaps and bounds. And Man of Steel is his best depiction yet, a towering achievement of both entertainment excellence and theological inspiration. It demonstrates how to make a Christological story the right way, complete with a villain that is both disturbing and appropriate for our post-modern age.

It is the end of the world, for Krypton at least. This world is dying in exactly the same fashion as ours: overdependence on science, disrespect for the human person, and unrepentant pride. Krypton is a haunting view of the secular revolution brought to its climax. The scientist Jor-El has a secret hope that will save at least one of his people: he and his wife have a son, the first natural birth in hundreds of years. The villainous General Zod calls this an act of “heresy,” because on Krypton children are bred for specific, socially conditioned lives and harvested only for the good of the state.

Fortunately for Earth, Jor-El’s son makes it to our planet and is adopted by a loving family in Kansas, taking the name Clark Kent. His supernatural abilities of flight, strength, and x-ray vision come from alien DNA but his dignity, goodness, and sacrificial love from human parents. Aware of his uniqueness, he patiently waits for years, learning to be human and helping people quietly. His decision to reveal himself comes in a conversation with a Catholic priest, a scene that is beautifully reminiscent of the Baptism in the Jordan and the Wedding Feast of Cana. Clark goes to the priest as if to receive confession, but there is no absolution. Instead, the priest affirms that he needs to trust that humanity is ready for him to begin his public ministry. If you needed any further proof that Superman is meant to be a Christ-like figure, Clark is 33 years old.

Superman has always been compared to Jesus, and he is certainly not unique in that sense, in literature or on film. Just in the last few decades, we’ve had The Matrix, Terminator 2, Harry Potter, and The Brave Little Toaster. Zack Synder’s Superman not only includes the traditional Christ-figure characteristics, but hefeels like Jesus. He understands both the cosmic power and the need to cry when a loved one dies. Jesus never sinned but understood the horrors of a sinful world. His care and sacrifice were dutiful but also intimate and loving. 

Synder’s ability to create a compelling Superman is impressive enough, but the nemesis General Zod is also a wonder to behold and fear. He seems so familiar because he does not portray a stereotypical boogeyman but a current mindset that is both old (political and racial totalitarianism) and new (sexual totalitarianism). Like Satan, he has chosen to be evil when he could have been good. He fights Superman to create a vision of Earth formed in his own likeness and ideology. This gives Superman the opportunity to demonstrate a concept rarely seen in movies, especially superhero films: love of enemy. Zod is one of the last of Superman’s people. Our hero will not allow this monster to destroy the Earth and its inhabitants, but neither will he kill his enemy unless it is undeniably necessary.

Man of Steel represents everything that a great Catholic film ought to accomplish. It is a thrilling superhero film that demands overpriced candy and 3D glasses. Its special effects are amazing but rarely noticeable over the beautiful script, morally uplifting themes, and well-developed characters. People were wailing and gnashing their teeth a year ago when it was announced that Henry Cavill, who is British, would play America’s first son; we should have crossed the Atlantic a long time ago. No less impressive is Michael Shannon, who creates a villain of truly evil actions and intentions yet never manages to lose the audience’s pity.

I don’t give out many five reel reviews, maybe one or two a year. In order to get five reels, a film must compel the audience to leave the theater and change their lives. Perry White, the editor of the Daily Planet, asks the question: “Imagine how our world would react if they came face to face with this.” How would you react if you knew Superman was real? Well, he is. He really is! There is a super-man who not only can transform your life here but forever in the next. Synder’s man of steel is but a shadow of this man on wood. The best thing you can do this weekend is go to Mass and receive Jesus Christ, true God and true man. The second best thing is see Man of Steel.

42: A Review by George Weigel

The following comes from George Weigel:

Baseball and movies don’t often play well together. William Bendix as a Marine who dies happy in “Guadalcanal Diary” because he’s just heard that the Dodgers have won is an icon of 1940s Americana; the same William Bendix as the Bambino in “The Babe Ruth Story” is a sad business, to be consigned to the (bad) memory bank. “The Natural” and “Bull Durham” have their moments, but when push comes to shove, they’re both, finally, about something other than baseball. “61*,” Billy Crystal’s made-for-HBO flick about Mickey Mantle, Roger Maris, and the chase for Ruth’s single-season home-run is a terrific story of male friendship (and gave this lifelong Yankees-deplorer a soft spot for the 1961 Bronx Bombers); but computer-graphic reconstructions of old ballparks being what they were when it was made in 2001—i.e., not that persuasive—“61*” just misses being a great baseball movie.

Now comes “42,” the long-awaited cinematic telling of the Jackie Robinson story, which I recently saw on a snowy April Sunday afternoon in the Twin Cities. I wouldn’t call it a great movie (like, for example, “The King’s Speech”); but it’s a very, very good movie, and an entirely plausible challenger to “61*” as the best baseball movie ever made. Chadwick Boseman captures some of the fierce intensity, and a lot of the raw courage, of the man who broke baseball’s color line. It wasn’t easy to imagine Han Solo, Indiana Jones, or President James Marshall (“Air Force One”) as Branch Rickey, the cigar-chomping, ultra-Methodist general manager of the Brooklyn Dodgers whose Christian decency and shrewd business sense led him to take on the entire baseball establishment by signing Jackie Robinson; but Harrison Ford pulls off that role with aplomb. Kudos, too, to Nicole Beharie for capturing the steely grace, beauty and guts of Rachel Robinson, Jackie’s wife, who put up with all the racism that her husband endured and who, with him, embodied for millions of Americans the meaning of the civil rights anthem, “We Shall Overcome.”

Columnist George F. Will once wrote that Jackie Robinson was second—a “very close second”—to Martin Luther King Jr. in the pantheon of African Americans who reversed a nation’s racial attitudes and helped create what is, today, the most racially egalitarian society in history. “42” is a useful reminder of just how much those men, and others, had to overcome: Robinson’s teammates are, to put it gently, unenthusiastic about his presence among them; the Phillies’ race-baiting manager, Ben Chapman, mercilessly harasses Number 42 when he comes up to the plate; the Cardinals’ Enos Slaughter deliberately spikes Robinson on a routine play at first base; Pirates’ pitcher Fritz Ostermueller throws a killer pitch that smashes into Robinson’s temple (in the days before batting helmets); potty-mouthed fans remind us just how foul American racial epithets could be—and how children were taught to imitate the sins of their parents.

And through it all, Jackie Robinson, in that first, crucial season, stuck to the promise he had made Branch Rickey: he would have the courage not to fight back, save in playing some of the most electrifying baseball ever seen, especially on the basepaths.

Branch Rickey was dubbed “the Mahatma” by a Brooklyn sportswriter who thought the Dodger g.m.’s style akin to that of Mohandas K. Ghandi, whom John Gunther once described as “an incredible combination of Jesus Christ, Tammany Hall and your father.”  And to the credit of screenwriter Brian Helgeland, “42” doesn’t gloss over Rickey’s Christian faith, or Jackie Robinson’s, and the role that Christian conviction played in forging their relationship and their ultimate victory. Still, when the packed crowd in that Minneapolis theatre burst into applause at the end of the movie a few weeks ago, I didn’t read it as an endorsement of Methodist theology or piety.

Rather, it seemed to me welcome evidence that, amidst vast cultural and political confusions, Americans still believe in moral truths, moral absolutes, and moral courage—and yearn for opportunities to celebrate them. There’s an important lesson in that for the country’s religious and political leaders.

Les Mis: A Review by Fr. Longenecker

The following comes from the site of Fr. Longenecker:

We went to see Les Miserables with friends yesterday. I’d never seen the show because I’ve rather gone off musicals as shallow, show biz stuff. I used to joke that life was miserable enough…

I was won over. There are so many powerful Catholic themes in the show, and the film communicates them very well. There is, of course, the question of justice and mercy. Javert’s self righteousness and legalism countered by the Bishop’s kindness and mercy which inspires Valjean to be merciful even to Javert. Very insightful that Valjean’s mercy destroys Javert. He can’t cope with such a destruction of his whole reason for living. His life is lonely and empty and ends in despair while Valjean’s life is full of meaning and action and love.

What I found especially moving was the ripple effect of the Bishops’ kindness. His gift of the silver to Valjean is extravagant and foolish. His mercy is everlasting. This extravagant act  not only ennobles Valjean, but it ripples down to touch and inspire virtually  every character Valjean touches. So it is even with the little acts of kindness and self sacrifice in our lives. Their effects ripple down to others forever. The goodness grows. It is fruitful and multiplies.

But if this is true of goodness, it is true in a darker way of evil. If we allow evil to flourish in our hearts it grows like a poisonous cancer and spreads to others. If we seek revenge; if we do not follow the way of forgiveness; if we harbor evil and allow it to fester it destroys and kills.

There is, also, the power of forgiveness at work. Allowing God’s forgiveness to work in our own lives to start with, then the power of God’s forgiveness to work through us to others. Forgiveness is like the bishop’s gift of silver. It is extravagant and foolish. Have you ever noticed that only  Christianity, of all world religions, teaches forgiveness? Judaism does to a small degree, but Christ comes and brings into the world that same extravagant and unexpected gift–a gift that is a sign of contradiction to the world–a gift that can only be achieved through an act of great self sacrifice.

The image therefore of the crucifix which abounds in the film is perfect. In film theory there is something called ‘an image system’. It is an image that is repeated many times in the film in many ways without a direct reference. The image system resonates within the eye and the mind and carries and projects the inner meaning of the film. So when Valjean is redeemed at the beginning he is given the silver crucifix and candles by the bishop. They re-appear throughout the film as the abiding image and remain as the pointer beyond.

Les Miserables shows us the power of Catholic art in the world. All around us the voices of atheism, secularism and unbelief rage and howl. Catholicism is derided and scorned. Clergy are wasted and destroyed. The faithful are mocked and the faith is undermined. Then a global phenomenon like “Les Mis” grabs everybody’s heart and exercises everybody’s tear ducts, and at that moment in the dark intimacy of the cinema people believe. No matter what their outwardly stated beliefs or their confused and lonely lives, they believe in justice and mercy. They believe in self sacrifice and love. They believe in perseverance and nobility. They believe in such a thing as a good and kindly priest, a noble and penitent sinner and a path through life that can be one of redemption and release.

When art works like this it goes around all the intellectual arguments and anger. It circumvents all the clever atheism and secularism. It appeals directly to the hearts of millions and plants a seed there of truth, beauty and goodness that cannot be erased. The fact that the film takes place within the French revolution shows that this kind of life is revolutionary. It is subversive to preach forgiveness and justice and mercy  and the reality of truth, beauty and goodness. This is truly Christian art–not just a pretty film with a nice moral ending, but a story that is deeply and mysteriously beautiful, good and true.

"Les Misérables": A Commentary by Fr. Robert Barron

Fr. Robert Barron on The Hobbit

Les Misérables - Extended First Look

Les Miserables

“We live in a selfish age, obsessed with how we project various versions of ourselves. But you have to tell this story from the point of view that God exists. And what God means in practice is the act of compassion, the struggle of living your life in a moral way. Les Mizis the great anthem of the dispossessed. It offers this solace that we as a collective can rise up against the system and change it for the better.”

– Director Tom Hooper, on the movie adaptation of “Les Miserables.”

Hat tip to the Good Deacon!

A Movie Review: The Dark Knight Rises

The following review comes from The Christopher Closeup:

When “The Dark Knight” – the second film in Christopher Nolan’s Batman trilogy – opened in 2008, I went to see it opening day because, like a lot of guys, I grew up reading Batman comics and was excited to see where the story would go next.  Though that film was technically good , it was also the bleakest movie I think I ever saw.  I actually felt jittery on the inside after it was over because it conveyed palpable feelings of despair.  That was largely due to the character of The  Joker who who didn’t have any redeeming qualities whatsoever.  This wasn’t an evil-in-a-comic-bookish-way villain like Loki in “The Avengers.”  The Joker was like the devil personified, calmly and enjoyably spreading evil wherever he went.  He may have been a movie character, but there was something frighteningly real about him.  “The Dark Knight” received lots of acclaim, especially for Heath Ledger who won a posthumous Oscar for playing The Joker.  My feelings about the film were mixed though, because I like my superhero movies a little more superhero-y.

At the beginning of “The Dark Knight Rises” which I saw this afternoon, I discovered that the character of Bruce Wayne had a similar reaction to everything that happened in the last movie as I did.  It left him so shaken that he’s been a recluse for eight years who’s let his business, his riches, and the few relationships he had disintegrate.  I’m not going into the details of the plot here (you can read my fellow Patheos blogger,Rebecca Cusey’s excellent review for that), but I want to briefly touch on the overarching themes of “The Dark Knight Rises” as opposed to its predecessor.

The journey Bruce Wayne and Batman travel in “The Dark Knight Rises” is ultimately one of redemption.  Bruce is a man whose lost faith in himself, his abilities, and in life itself.  He doesn’t fear death; he would actually welcome it.  As the villain Bane says to him at one point, he doesn’t want to torture his body; he wants to torment his soul because he knows that will bring Bruce the greatest pain and push him over the final edge.  In order to save the day, Bruce has to climb out of his pit of despair.  It’s not an easy journey, but as the title of the movie suggests, that’s where the story is heading.

In addition, whereas the previous movie ended with numerous characters like Commissioner Gordon making bad choices, “The Dark Knight Rises” finds them having to face the repercussions of those choices and admit their own sins.  The quest for redemption is definitely the predominant story arc here, both with returning characters and new ones like Anne Hathaway’s brilliant turn as Selina Kyle/Catwoman (I’ve never seen Hathaway as an action heroine, but she charmingly, athletically, and kick-buttingly pulls it off here).  And in contrast to The Joker, the villain Bane is definitely bad news, but he has just the tiniest bit of backstory that actually makes him human.

Instead of leaving me with a feeling of despair at the end, “The Dark Knight Rises” left me feeling hope.   It’s a film about heroism, nobility, and sacrifice in the face of danger, especially for the hero who just wants to do the right thing.

In light of this film, I plan to go back and watch the previous two again at some point because I’m wondering if my feelings about the middle film will change now that I can see it as Act Two in a three-act story.  In storytelling terms, maybe Bruce Wayne had to go through the despair in order to achieve the redemption.

“The Dark Knight Rises” is unfortunately attracting attention today because of the senseless, horrific massacre that took place in an Aurora, Colorado movie theater early this morning.  Our prayers are with all those affected by the violence.

But in terms of the quality of the movie itself, “The Dark Knight Rises” should take you on a worthy hero’s journey.

Fr. Robert Barron reviews "The Amazing Spider-Man"

"For Greater Glory": A movie review by Fr. Robert Barron

The following comes from the CNA:

The new feature film “For Greater Glory” tells the story of the Mexican Cristero war, which broke out in the 1920’s when the secularist government, under the leadership of President Plutarco Elias Calles, decided to enforce the strict anti-clerical laws embedded in the Mexican constitution of 1917. All religious ceremonies – Masses, baptisms, confirmations, weddings, etc. – were banned, bishops were forced to leave the country, and priests were forbidden to wear clerical garb in public. Priests who resisted were imprisoned, tortured, and in some cases, killed outright. One of the most affective scenes in the film is the execution of Padre Christopher, an old priest played by the great Peter O’Toole. As the federales arrived in his small town, the priest refused to hide or flee. Instead, he sat quietly in his church, robed in Mass vestments, and accepted his fate as an act of witness. Others also resolved to resist through nonviolent means, most notably Anacleto Gonzalez Flores (played by Eduardo Verastegui), a magazine editor and activist, who rallied Mexican youth through his speeches and writings.

But given the intensity and violence of the attack on Catholicism – which Graham Greene called the most thorough persecution of a religion since the time of Elizabeth I – it was practically inevitable that an armed resistance would emerge. The bulk of “For Greater Glory” concerns this “Cristero” rebellion, which began with small and disorganized bands of guerilla fighters, but grew, under the leadership of General Enrique Gorostieta (Andy Garcia), into an efficient military operation. The emotional heart of the film is the relationship between the General and a 14-year-old boy named Jose, who had been a friend of Padre Christopher and witnessed the priest’s murder. Despite his youth, Jose joined the Cristero army, serving as standard-bearer and aide-de-camp to Gorostieta. In the course of a particularly brutal battle, Jose was captured by the federales, who then tortured him mercilessly, hoping to compel him to renounce the ideals of the Cristeros and accept the decisions of the government. Even in the face of this horrendous attack, Jose refused to give in, stubbornly repeating the motto of the resistance: Viva el Cristo Rey! (Long live Christ the King).

I won't give away any more of the story, but I would like to reflect on that motto, which is heard throughout the film on the lips of dozens of characters. Viva Cristo Rey! is the hinge on which this entire Cristero episode turns and is, indeed, the central teaching of the New Testament. The great Scriptural scholar N.T. Wright has argued that the four Gospels are fundamentally the story of how Yahweh, the God of Israel, through the life, death, and resurrection of Jesus of Nazareth, established himself as king. On the Biblical reading, the world had long been governed by various “kings” who ruled through violence and cruelty: Pharaoh, the Amalekites, the Philistines, the Assyrians, the Babylonians, the Greeks and the Romans. But Yahweh had promised that one day, through his anointed servant, he would deal with these tyrants, and would himself come to shepherd and to reign. It is of enormous significance that when Jesus first appeared as a preacher in the hills of Galilee, his theme was “the kingdom of God is at hand!” In other words, in his own person; an entirely new way of ordering things is on offer. Then, in his love and non-violence, in his open-table fellowship, in his outreach to prostitutes and tax collectors, in his mocking of the Pharisees and religious establishment, in his healing and teaching, Jesus was demonstrating precisely what the reign of the God of Israel looks like.

This way of life inevitably awakened the opposition of the powers that be. At the climax of his ministry, Jesus faced down the resistance of “the world,” to use the typical New Testament term, meaning that whole congeries of cruelty, betrayal, denial, violence, corruption, and hatred by which human affairs are typically ordered. He permitted all of that darkness to wash over him, to crush him and snuff him out. But then, on the third day, he rose again from the dead in the power of the Holy Spirit and thereby outflanked, out-maneuvered and swallowed up the darkness. In a delicious irony, it was Pontius Pilate who anticipated the significance of this victory over the cross of Jesus, the Roman governor had placed a sign written in the three great languages of that time and place, which read “Jesus of Nazareth, King of the Jews.” In the light of the resurrection, the first Christians knew that, in Jesus, the God of Israel had become king, and that the world was now under new management. They saw their mission as the declaration of that kingship to everyone. This did not imply at all that they were advocating “theocracy” in the crude sense. (Indeed, both Peter and Paul urge their readers to show deference to the properly instituted Roman authority.) But they were insisting that Jesus is the one to whom final allegiance is due and that he is more powerful than any of the “kings,” – political, economic, military or cultural who tend to dominate human affairs. They reveled in the fact that Jesus’ kingly power was exercised, not through violence and domination, but through the non-violence of the cross. They gladly announced to anyone who would listen that the true king wore a crown of thorns and reigned from a throne that was a Roman instrument of torture.

At the very close of “For Greater Glory,” we see a listing of those figures from the film that the Catholic Church beatified or canonized as saints. Without exception, they were those who chose the path of non-violent resistance. As I said, I certainly understand why an armed rebellion sprang up in the Mexico of that time, and I wouldn't dream of questioning the motives of those who participated in it. But I would indeed say that those who advocate the kingship of Jesus should fight the way he did: invading the darkness by light and swallowing up hatred through love. Viva Cristo Rey!

Theology and "The Avengers"

The following comes from the Crisis site:

The Avengers, who some are saying is the best “Super-Hero” movie of all time, shattered the box-office on its opening weekend. It is a highly entertaining, action packed, funny movie that brings together some hi-profile actors and some legendary comic-book characters.
The movies premise, as with most “Super-Hero” films, is global domination by a dark villain. What makes it unique is not only it’s depth of characters and depth in 3-D, but it’s depth in meaning. The movie is most meaningful in dealing with the redemption of the characters, the effect that redemption has on the entire world, and the community that is formed.

Nick Fury, played by the inimitable Samuel L. Jackson, draws from a team of absolute “misfits” to help save the world from Loki and his army. The movie begins with the voice of Nick Fury narrating: “And there came a day, a day unlike any other… when Earth’s mightiest heroes found themselves united against a common threat… to fight the foes no single superhero could withstand… on that day, The Avengers were born.”

When the actors were interviewed on the set last summer, almost every one of them said the defining thing about their character is that he or she is “desperately lonely.” Scarlett Johansson who plays the black widow admits: “Yeah, we all have a little bit of trauma.” Chris Evan’s who plays Captain America affirms that “Everyone has their own baggage, and that’s why it was an uphill battle to try to marry the conflict of all these individual characters.”

Tony Stark, Robert Downey Jr.’s always hilarious and sarcastic character, enters into a dialogue with Loki warning him of their team: “The Avengers. It’s what we call ourselves, sort of like a team. “Earth’s Mightiest Heroes” type thing… Yeah, takes us a while to get any traction, I’ll give you that one but, let’s do a head count here. Your brother, the demi-god; a super soldier, a living legend who kind of lives up to the legend; a man with breath-taking anger management issues; a couple of master assassins, and YOU, big fella…” The Avengers, much like the Christian community, is nothing more nothing less than a group of saints and sinners.

The set-up is the classic scape goat theory… with Loki as the scapegoat who if killed will bring peace. However, as is true in our plan of redemption, what ultimately brings people together is not the common enemy, but the redemption of each individual heart, the way that one conversion can impact many others, the healing that takes place in community which brings about the salvation of the world.

Redemption of the Character

As Tony Stark so succinctly put it each hero embodies great potential but the reality is it does take them a while to get any traction. Conversion is a process and often a life-long one. Before they are brought together in community their powers are unwieldy. They are each very broken individuals. Iron Man’s narcissism keeps him from any real intimacy with love interest Pepper Potts. Thor is constantly fearful of his power to call down the lightning. Captain America is still living in World War II. Black Widow has very deep stuff going on in her past. Hawk Eye has become a slave to Loki’s staff and has lost his ability to think for himself. This leaves us with The Hulk, whose wound is so deep and conversion is most evident.

The Hulk, as compellingly played by Mark Ruffalo, is a man at war with himself. In one scene where mass destruction is evident Captain America says to Bruce Banner (Hulk’s alter-ego): “Doc… I think now is the perfect time for you to get angry.” Bruce replies: “That’s my secret Cap, I’m always angry.” Isn’t this true for all of us? Our core sins are always present lurking in the background. He alludes more and more to this throughout the movie of what he describes as his “other self.” This phrase is actually used! It’s straight out of Saint Paul and so often referenced by the mystics.

St. Francis de Sales once gave the following advice to an aspiring nun: “My dear daughter, stir up your courage, arm yourself with the patience we should have toward ourselves. Often rouse your heart so that it may be rather on guard against a surprise attack; watch out for this other self; wherever you go, you’d do well to be aware of her, for this mean girl goes with you everywhere, and if you aren’t thinking about her she will think up something against you. But when she happens to attack you suddenly, even if she causes you to totter and stumble, don’t be upset; instead, call out to our Lord and our Lady. They will reach out a blessed helping hand to you, and if they allow you to go on suffering for a while, it will only be in order to have you cry out again more loudly for their help. Don’t be ashamed of all this, my dear daughter, any more than St. Paul who confesses that there were two men in him—one rebellious toward God, and the other obedient” (Romans 7:15-23). As with St. Paul, the aspirant, the Hulk and ourselves, we all have this “other self.”

Bruce Banner begins to come to terms with his other self when he and Thor are in the middle of melee “Seeing who is better” and they are interrupted by a fighter jet. Hulk was beginning to lose it and endanger everyone around him when Thor says to him: “We are not enemies… try to think.”

Thor is giving the same advice that St. Francis gave to the young postulant. “Try to think… be aware.” This is a moment of spiritual direction that brings about conversion. Hulk who has been so ashamed and tormented by his other self is now learning, not simply to bury it, but to allow it to be redeemed and transformed. In his own personal moment of salvation, it leads to not only the salvation of those around him, but to the salvation of the world.

In the square outside of a concert hall in Germany Loki takes over a crowd. He threatens and demands that they worship him. “Kneel before me. I said… KNEEL! Is not this simpler? Is this not your natural state? It’s the unspoken truth of humanity that you crave subjugation. The bright lure of freedom diminishes your life’s joy in a mad scramble for power. For identity. You were made to be ruled. In the end, you will always kneel.” An elderly man with a German accent is heard from the fearful, kneeling crowd: “Not to men like you.” Loki responds: “There are no other men like me.” The elderly man stands and says with sad strong eyes: “There are always men like you.”

This frail, elderly, weak man stands up and refuses to kneel to a god. Courage begins to stir and there is a dialogue between Black Widow and Captain America about standing up to Loki. Black Widow’s alter eagle Natasha says to Captain America’s alter ego Steve Rogers fearfully: “But he’s a god!” Rogers responds confidently and boldly: “Ma’am, there’s only one God, and I’m pretty sure he doesn’t look like that.” As Saint Paul once declared: “We must obey God rather than men” (Acts 5:29). When we renounce our idols and futile attempts to be God and allow ourselves to be redeemed it will bring about the redemption of many.

The conversion of each character benefits the others

The personal redemption that is happening in each one of them is not solely for their own good, but it is for building up the gifts of the community.

There is a shift in the Avengers when Hulk begins to use his rage for good. In this buildup there is comic relief when Hulk and Loki are fighting… there is a moment of absolute stillness and Loki declares: “I am a god! I am not going to be bullied by a… [Hulk interrupts, grabbing him by the legs and in classic Hulk style smashes him side to side back and forth leaving him stunned and confused clearly defeated and lying on the ground]… Hulk struts away and mumbles… “Puny god.” (The theater bursts with laughter).

What seemed to be his greatest weakness and kept him in such shame and isolation had actually been set free through the care and direction of others. It never would have happened without this team that had been formed. These vigilantes who were hell bent on destroying themselves and each other had come to know their true selves, accept their weaknesses, and be nurtured to master their vices and shape their virtues. One by one they all begin to become transformed by the others individual conversions.

Community is formed

Director, Joss Whedon, explains that “The Avengers is about bringing all of these isolated characters into community. The way to work their problems out is to give themselves to something that matters more… There was an idea to bring together a group of remarkable people so that when we needed them they could fight the battles that we never could… It’s about the idea – which is very old-fashioned – of community, of people working for each other. That’s gone away. The Avengers, for me, is about bringing that back.” Whedon goes on to describe that the characters, who are so ego driven, must “put aside their individual interests and objectives. The first half of the film is about them trying to fulfill their own goals, and that doesn’t work out too well. They end up destroying things – and each other. Any community or family can’t be defined by an individual. It’s by the actions of the group.”

What is revealed is that in the end, maybe it’s not so much about evil being conquered or being destroyed, but community being formed. There is conversion of each character and that redemption is not only for their good but benefits the greater good and out of this community is formed. And here is where we have the moment of truth – it is in that community that redemption is fostered.

Isn’t this what the prophets, mystics, saints and martyrs have proclaimed over the years? Jesus invites us into this redemptive plan and into the community that is formed around the Eucharist. Our redemption is found in the love and the support of the community. Though we may be tempted to hide our weaknesses, dwell isolated in our shame, mask what most disgusts us, it is only when it is brought to light in community that we can be healed. This healing is not only for ourselves but for the salvation of all. And the salvation of all is found in the community that is formed around the Altar of our Lord.