THE PASSION OF CHRIST (2004)
dir. Mel Gibson
starring Jim Caviezel, Maia Morgenstern and Monica Bellucci
Watched as a Biblical epic (for which read "schlepic") The Passion of the Christ (2004), which rose after a $30 million dollar budget onto screens to much Evangelical approval and mass incredulity and hostility from the intellectual wing of the the film review pack, is something of a bust. But taken as a comedy horror extravaganza I would have to say it ranks with the best, situating the fall and rising of J. Christ somewhere in a cinematic wasteland inhabited by the grotesque remnants of two thousand years of a failed experiment to make Aramaic grate again. In The Passion of the Christ director Mel Gibson (and why didn't he play Jesus himself??? OMG that would have been divine! Or, in another era, why not Clint Eastwood: "Make my deity!"?) Or, hey, Iggy, whose generously extravenous outpourings in his onstage prime qualify him to play JC in this Raw Higher Power replay?
What we have in essence in this film is Christ characterised as a reverse Carrie, who instead of locking everybody in and roasting them in revenge, locks everybody else out while, on the cross, He communes with His make-up - sorry, Maker - en route to His Houdini routine wherein He takes off into a tomb knowing the whole time He is gonna play His exclusive Get Out of Jehovah card and walk or, rather, ascend. As you may know by now, The Passion of the Christ - which could better be entitled, by the time the nasty, sadistic Centurions finish with Him, The Partitioning of the Christ - is incredibly gory, a Raging Bull for the ages, with poor JC consigned to two hours of onscreen torment and torture that ends up being so demented and excessive so as to render His "passion" a puerile spectacle, a carny theatre of cruelty that really makes you wonder whether saving mankind - never known for its smarts - is a worthwhile endeavour when - as if it wasn't already bad enough being crucified right side up! - in the midst of what is already a truly and particularly unpleasant experience you have rollicking Roman soldiers turning your darned cross upside down!
What The Passion of the Christ achieves, though, is making The Life of Brian look like a Coppola classic, simply because TPOTC is so much funnier. "Always look on the bright side of eternal life!", bitches, because just when your worst day got even worse...God sheds a tear! So astounded was I by the second hour of this movie that my own ordeal getting through it began to feel very much like a contender for competing with the trials of the main character of this "I'm A Saviour, Get Me Out of Here" blood salad.
I mean, Mel, we get it! Jesus suffered a lot. But not as much as someone suffers trying to summon the steely resolve to make to it the tomb scene, which is, by the way, a supremely mangled piece of cinema, though when Jesus sidesteps His shroud and strides off to...heaven? Anyways, when He does His "Two's company, three's a Trinity" thing and we all know He is headed into two millennia of being depicted as a virtuously perforated anti-voodoo doll...I am rambling. Which is NOT what The Passion of the Christ ever does; to give it due credit, with the exception of a few facile flashbacks - The Sermon on the Mount: "I'm here all day...actually for eternity...folks!!" - there is a laser-tight focus on just how badly fucked over Jesus was by the Jews, the Ramones - dammit, ROMANS - and, let's finally face it: God, too.
Which begs the question: Would you Calvary yourself for a "Father" who requires you to be beaten and bled out? Come on, let's be serious, in terms of child neglect our God should be doing time for that shit! If God is love I don't want to see God is hate! "Take my Light, please!" or what??? Meanwhile, back to Mel and his dork night of the soul.
The Passion of the Christ AKA Apocalypse Forever is, I suppose, the best worst movie I have ever seen, as lovably absurd as it is purely ugly, as stupid as it is somehow, in its overblown self-regard and apparent seriousness, absurd in the true sense, a Dadaist mangling of The Greatest Story Ever Retold, and worth waiting two thousand years for. It's Easter, peeps, so if you haven't yet survived The Passion of the Christ AKA Carry on Crucifixion, welcome yourself to the Thunderdome c. 33 A.D., pop up that corn, kick back and marvel at what happens when a rebored millionaire has too much money and not enough sensibility. Gloriously deranged, The Passion of the Christ AKA Light Club AKA Maulgotha (or one your own!) will have you in stitches, which is more than Jesus gets in the movie, because what He does mostly is bleed and there ain't a damned EMT in sight.
