A Black Perspective On The Epic Film
It is likely one of the finest motion pictures made in modern times, if not one of the finest ever. However, by choosing Caiaphas as his chief villain and, perhaps more to the point, by giving Governor Pilate complexity and moments of pause, Gibson has certainly left himself open to the Anti-Semitic charge. Additionally, his casting of Jesus in the provably inaccurate European model perpetuates the oppression of people of color by means of an ethnically-focused view of Christ. This cuts both ways— forcing a black Jesus on the world would be just as wrong. Only, The Passion Of The Christ is being lauded for its accuracy while pandering to the atrocious, unethical common stereotypical White Jesus at the same time.
Without all of the hype and accusations of anti-Semitism,
The Passion of The Christ might have been Gibson's small
masterpiece. A beautiful and personal art film that may have
quietly come and gone had any other director's name been in the
opening credits. A shorter and, believe it or not, somewhat less
violent Braveheart— a little too short for my taste. The Passion
seemed trimmed to a neat two hours perhaps out of concern that,
had things gone the other way, had the film been rejected by the
audience, theatres might be stuck with a three-hour albatross
rather than a very trim, very neat, very well-paced two hours.
In that two hours, things move along at an unexpectedly brisk
pace. Such epic movies are often repositories for actor and
director egos, where characters wax on and on and on while
staring malevolently at a flickering flame. You'll find no such
excess here, but Mel may have made this a bit too lean;
forgetting, perhaps, that a good chef leaves the fat on,
trimming the meat only after the meal has been prepared, as the
fat tends to enhance the flavor.
While I fully understand the purpose of the film is to chronicle
Jesus' death, I wanted to know and see much more about His life.
I would have liked the extra hour for a more expanded view of
His ministry, and to understand why He was such a threat to the
religious leaders of the day. Gibson takes absolutely for
granted that his audience will understand the very complex
motives of the religious leaders of the day, and skips any
examination of why they do what they do. As a result, the
religious leaders are reduced to single-note mustache-twirling
villains, with precious few glimpses of division among them over
the inevitable fate of the heretic Jesus. Normally, this would
just be a matter of poor choice or poor writing, had these
particular religious leaders not been Jewish.
Is the film anti-Semitic? I grow weary of white people telling
me when something is or isn't racist. Racism is a very
subjective and personal experience. So is anti-Semitism. So my
opinion isn't, and probably shouldn't be, terribly relevant.
However, in his otherwise brilliant Passion, Gibson has a blind
spot you could drive a semi through. By choosing Caiaphas as his
chief villain and, perhaps more to the point, by giving Governor
Pilate complexity and moments of pause, Gibson has certainly
left himself open to the charge. Rather than becoming defensive
and telling Jewish people what is and what is not anti-Semitic,
Gibson should have taken the more objective view that Caiaphas
had far fewer colors than Pilate. Absent real exposition on just
what drove Caiaphas and his buddies to persecute Jesus in the
first place, the flattening of the High Priest's character
leaves him an unfortunate caricature. That the great crowd of
Jews rallied to Caiaphas is not disturbing to me, I've seen
crowds rally to morons before. Rallying a crowd is no trick, as
crowds tend to roll with whichever way the wind is blowing. But
a greater understating of the issues and a hair or two more
complexity for Caiaphas might have saved The Passion a lot of
grief.
I do cynically suspect the controversy has certainly worked for
the film. Much like our sitting president, it is quite possible
the film's promoters, if not Gibson himself, have traded on the
deep divisions among us for personal gain. That people are
wounded and hurt and offended by the artistic choices here only
fuels the enormous buzz around the film, a film poised to become
one of the biggest blockbusters of all time. The film's greatest
failing, however, is that, in Gibson's narrow focus on the
Passion itself, he leaves the audience in desperate need of a
release that never comes. The film's relentless cruelty is
addressed only with the briefest glimpse of the resurrected
Christ and then the greatest jolt of the entire film— the
closing credits arriving just as the audience was finding the
relief they'd waited two hours for.
In Gibson's calculated attempt to shore up his film and keep it
compact and focused he has left out the most important element
of all— hope. Gibson left hope on the cutting room floor. We
have only glimpses of hope in the brief flashbacks to Jesus'
ministry, and we have only the briefest glimpse of hope at the
end. The remainder of the film is in service to Gibson's overall
agenda, which seems more about shocking us into a greater
awareness of Christ's sacrifice than it is about our embracing
His message. Christ's message is all but lost, here. The
audience is left to fill in too many gaps and draw too many
conclusions as the film, on its own merit, is a devastating
account of someone who was killed for reasons that are never
clearly articulated, and whose message and preaching seem, in
the film, overwhelmed and unbalanced (at least in terms of
screen time) by the vicious cruelty he suffers as a result. At
the end of the day the film is all Passion and precious little
hope, which makes me wonder what Gibson's ultimate goal is: to
draw us to Christ or merely blame us for His death? Which leaves
only my central annoyance with the film: the casting of Jesus in
the European tradition.
It's important to preface my observation by saying that, in The
Passion, the issue of Jesus' race becomes extremely irrelevant
fairly quickly. By mid-point in the film, once Christ has been
beaten beyond recognition, you can't even tell what race he is
and, to Gibson's credit, you're so compelled by the story that
you honestly don't care.
But I do care. I care more about people who go to this film with
no formal or informal religious training, people who don't even
know there were complex political reasons behind the religious
leaders' conspiracy to kill Jesus. These people will leave the
theater thinking only of Caiaphas, when there were a great many
more religious leaders of the day out for Jesus' blood. And
Gibson fails to make it clear just how great a threat Jesus was
to these men. That Jesus could not simply be dismissed as a loon
or as irrelevant. I'm really worried about people leaving the
theatre with Gibson's fast-food Persian bazaar single-note beat
on Caiaphas. And I'm doubly concerned that people are leaving
the theatre thinking Jesus was a handsome white man.
“The impact this imagery has is devastating,”
The Reverend Promise Y. Lee, Pastor and Founder of
Relevant Word
Ministries, recently shared with me. “It outrages me to know
that, after spending $30 million on this project, no one was
able to depict Jesus as an African or Asian but, instead, as a
white man. Reminds me of the myth of Tarzan. It will be hard for
me to see the movie, if I see it, because I can't get past the
imagery. I strongly think there should be an effort on the part
of the film industry to solicit non-mainstream opinion in regard
to the imagery represented in The Passion of The Christ. For
centuries people have suffered from oppression, prejudice, low
self-esteem, inferiority complexes and found themselves to be
victims of racism because of false imagery. This kind of imagery
has devastating effects on our society. It potentially creates
and promotes attitudes of inferiority among people of color,
especially children and promotes attitudes of superiority among
whites.
“For centuries, imagery of angels, wise men, Santa, etc., have
had a huge negative effect on non-whites,” Pastor Lee continued.
“In fact, it is one of the things that has kept our society
divided. Hollywood has already done a number on various groups
of people by the way it has depicted them solely based on their
ethnicity. This film has the same potential. Yes, the content
may be great, but how does one deal with the imagery? I am not
sure if there are other ethnicities even represented in the
film. That is also something to consider. “It's already a sad
day here in Christian Mecca [i.e. Focus On The Family (and
PraiseNet.Org)'s Colorado Springs HQ], but it would be even
sadder if the so-called people of religious influence said the
depiction or imagery doesn't matter.”
Pastor Lee gave voice to things I was thinking but had, more or
less, decided to pass on. In our emotionally and
politically-charged world, merely raising the issue of racism
tends to make you a target. You become victimized twice: once by
the racist act, then again by the society unwilling to deal with
it.
It is especially hurtful when blacks attack you for merely
raising concerns. Just talking about these kinds of issues is an
enormous uphill battle, requiring great resources and reserves
to fend off waves of resentment from a society— white and black—
who erroneously believe the racial divide no longer exists.
African Americans, content with their two-car garages, are often
the loudest critics, having become weary of the struggle and
tired of talking about race. I am most certainly tired of
talking about race. and, shamefully, I admit to being the last
one to ring the bell over these sorts of things. But the
overwhelming response from the Christian community, white and
black, to Mel Gibson's film demands
an open dialogue about the shameful and continuing oppression of
people of color by way of the traditional imagery of the White
Christ, perhaps the most insidious lie ever foisted upon
mankind.
From the very beginning, the image of the white Christ was an
artistic choice. It was a European reconstruction of Christ in
the image of the Italian artists who served the Papists of Rome.
It was God in our image, instead of the other way around. The
white Christ is in no way historical and is completely
inaccurate. Even the most jaded and cynical scholars would tend
to agree that Jesus had to have been a man of color. Does that
mean Gibson should have cast Yaphet Koto in the role? Of course
not. Was Jesus Black? Well, that depends on what you mean by
“black,” so I'll stand closer to the fence while continuing to
suggest that Jesus was, absolutely, a man of color. Your mileage
may, of course, vary.
I still own my childhood Bible, with it's image of a sandy-haired, blue-eyed Christ praying in Gethsemane on the cover. For the better part of my adult life, I never gave this image much thought. Intellectually, I knew it was, at best, a guess. But it wasn't until I was well into adulthood that I realized it was actually more of a choice. A political decision to recreate God in man's image, rather than vice versa. CONTINUED