Lent Reviews Week 5: Fatima (2020)

     Released on August 28th, 2020, Fatima is directed by Marco Pontecorvo and written by Pontecorvo and Valerio D’Annunzio, the film was produced by Origin Entertainment. It tells the story of the famous apparition of the Blessed Virgin Mary to three Shepard children in Fátima, Portugal. 

     Fatima takes a (fairly) subtle approach to the oft-told story. Pontecorvo and Annunzio's script avoids using expository dialogue, instead requiring the viewer to follow the events as they proceed. It is certainly a respectful, even if it takes some liberties with historical fact. What is, perhaps, the film's main central source of conflict, the disapproval of Lucia's mother, Maria Rosa (Lúcia Moniz), of her claims to have seen the Holy Virgin, is fueled, largely, by the fact that her older brother, Manuel, is fighting in the First World War. Maria is convinced that he will be brought home safe if only she prays hard enough and obtains their favor. She views her daughter's claims as dreadful lies which will offend God and the Blessed Mother, and could jeopardize her "favor" in their eyes. In reality, Maniel Dos Santos did not fight in the war, though one of Lucia's cousins did.

     It is likely that the filmmakers made this change for two reasons. First of all it helps to make Lucia's mother more relatable and sympathetic. Secondly, it gives the main characters a direct connection with the Great War. For the people of Portugal (and indeed most of Europe) at this time the war was a all-encompassing concern, and the Fatima message dealt with the war directly on many points. Since Lucia is the point of view character and, as I said, the film tries to avoid too much exposition, having her brother be involved in the war helps to contextualize the apparition within its historical setting.

     It is to the film's credit that, while it is compresses many of the visions for the sake of brevity, it never waters down the message of Fatima for a secular (or Protestant) audience. The films opening titles, which establish that Portugal had recently become a Republic guided by liberal, enlightenment values ideas, implicate these ideas as being opposed to Catholicism and religion in general. The mayor of Fatima, Arturo (Goran Visnjic), is very much an modern "enlightened" man. He sees the children's story as a primitive superstition, one that threatens the ideological foundation of the new Republic. Like Lucia's mother, the film softens its portrayal of Arturo. He does not threaten the children with being boiled in oil if they continue to maintain their story. He is portrayed somewhat like Pontius Pilate in The Passion of the Christ (2004) as a man torn between his loyalty to the government and his innate sense of justice. This parallel between Arturo and Pilate is amplified by the mayor's wife, Adelina (Iris Cayatte), who, like Pilate's wife Claudia, is a believer and clashes with her husband over his actions. 

    Other changes to the story are less justified. While in real life, the three seers performed many extreme acts of penance in accord with the commands of both Our Lady and the Angel of Fatima, including wearing tight cords around their waists and flogging themselves with stinging nettles. In the film however, the Blessed Mother asks them to stop these practices. Likely, the filmmakers were worried that young, overzealous viewers might decide to imitate Jacinta, Francisco and Lúcia in these practices, which could certainly lead to backlash from concerned parents. If that is the case, perhaps they should have simply left these scenes out completely rather then altering the facts. Conversely, while I appreciate the inclusion of the seers vision of hell (always a controversial topic even among believers) the resulting, CGI-laden scene, is rather hokey, and was perhaps was best left on the cutting room floor.

     This scene stands in contrast to the films approach to the supernatural, which is much more impressionistic, relying on suggestive camerawork and lighting rather then special effects. The film is well shot in general.The director (the the son of acclaimed director Gillo Pontecorvo (Battle of Algiers) was a cinematographer on HBO's Rome and clearly has a good eye for visuals as does cinematographer Vincenzo Carpineta, a frequent collaborator of Pontecorvo who was also involved in such acclaimed pictures as The English Patient. Pontecorvo also handles his young actors quite well and Jorge Lamelas (Francisco), Alejandra Howard (Jacinta) and especially Stephanie Gil (Lucia) hold their own against their older, more experienced co-stars.

     It is interesting to note that Pontecorvo is not himself a Catholic. This may well inform some of the non-Catholic characters in the film. Arturo Santos, as I mentioned, is more sympathetic here then in other Fatima movies. Also of note is the respectful relationship portrayed between an adult Sr. Lucia (Sônia Braga) and the skeptical Professor Nichols (Harvey Keitel). The professor's interview with Lucia for his prospective book serves as a framing device for the film. While I appreciate its nuanced portrayal of this (fictional) relationship it's also a little heavy handed at times. As the film close not with a conversation between the two but instead ends, somewhat abruptly, immediately after the Miracle of the Sun, this framing device is left feeling a little underdeveloped. More critically, we are left with no real idea of the ultimate impact of this miracle. 

     Despite its flaws, Fatima remains a respectful retelling of this important event. In today's godless, secularized atmosphere, that's a minor miracle in itself.

Score: 8/10

Lent Reviews Week 4: Joan the Maid (1994)

     Joan the Maid is a two part French film released on February 9th, 1994 as Joan the Maid, Part 1: The Battles and Joan the Maid, Part 2: The Prisons. It is directed by Jacques Rivette and stars Sandrine Bonnaire as St. Joan of Arc. It received a U.S. release (which cut out nearly two hours of footage) on November 29th, 1996. In 2019, a 4K restoration of the original cut was undertaken. This restoration was released on Blu Ray in the U.S. in December of 2019.

     The first part (The Battles) uses a traditional three act structure. First, we see Joan's struggle to persuade Robert de Baudricourt (Baptiste Roussillon) to give her an escort the French Royal Court at Chinon. We hear of of the apparitions she has received, though the exact nature of them will not be revealed until later. This act culminates with her arrival at the French court and her meeting with the Dauphin, Charles (André Marcon). Next, Joan's theological examination at Poitiers is dealt with and it is here that her apparitions (from Saint Margaret, Saint Catherine, and Saint Michael) are delved into in greater detail. At the same time, she begins training for combat. This act concludes with the decision of the prelates to put her words to the test by allowing her to participate in the battle of Orleans. Finally, Joan joins up with the forces of the Bastard of Orleans (Patrick Le Mauff) in his war against the English and the Burgundians, culminating in the lifting of the English siege of Orleans.  

     Part 2 (The Prisons) is broken up into a four act structure. In the first half of the film we pick up where Part 1 left off as the French, lead by Joan experience one miraculous victory after another. This culminates with the crowning of the Dauphin at Reims. As the film progresses, Joan becomes more and more trapped, first by circumstances, then literally through imprisonment. Next the French are stopped short at Paris when Charles decides to form a truce with the Burgundians. Returning to Reims with the King, Joan is frustrated at being stuck at the French court while here former allies continue to fight the English against the Charles' wishes. He eventually allows her to return to battle where she is captured by the Burgundians. 

     In the second half of the film, Joan suffers increasing persecutions. First, she is held in the castle of Beaurevoir, where she is treated courteously by the mother and daughter of her captor. Then, she is turned over to the English and questioned by a Burgundian inquisitorial court. She is abused and harassed by her English captors but remains steadfast in her denial of practicing witchcraft. Finally, she is condemned by the Inquisition and burned at stake, with the name of the Redeemer on her lips. 

     Throughout, Joan the Maid maintains an almost shocking fidelity to the historical fact. Another reviewer claimed that much of the dialogue was lifted "word for word from primary source accounts." Though I can't confirm if this is true (it is incredibly difficult to find information on the film's production) it would not surprise me. Certainly, the costumes and sets are spot on. 

     Jacques Rivette, a prolific director of the French New Wave known for his novel approach to cinema, approaches this film almost like a documentary. He takes a somewhat detached, objective approach to the material, which lends the film an austere quality. One of the Rivette's innovations in this film is his use of "interview" scenes akin to a documentary. The actors, in character, sit in front of the camera and reminisce about the events of Joan's life. This allows the director to get around having to portray large scale battles (to some extent) which he did not have the budget to pull off. It also makes the film, surprisingly, more immersive, and adds to its verisimilitude. 

      Jordi Savall's score, which is entirely comprised of period choral and instrumental pieces, greatly contributes to the film's historical credibility. It is used sparingly and subtlety, adding emotional weight to the film without becoming a crutch for it to rely on. William Lubtchansky's cinematography vividly captures the French landscapes as well as the beautifully recreated interior sets. The production design by Emmanuel de Chauvigny is magnificent and Christine Laurent's costuming is immaculate. The stand out scene (despite or perhaps because of its length) is the coronation in Reims. Presented in real time and chronicling the Catholic ceremony with meticulous detail, it was wonderful to behold for an old Catholic monarchist like myself.

     Because of the film's minimalist approach much of the historical context is left out. The background of The Hundred Years' War, for instance, is not presented in any way, nor are we informed of the competing "Armagnac" (led by the Count of Armagnac and loyal to the Dauphin), and "Burgundian" (led by the Duke of Burgundy and allied with the English) factions. When Robert de Baudricourt finally grants Joan an escort, we are not told that he did so because she had correctly predicted the military reversal at the Battle of Rouvray. Later, when she is imprisoned in the castle of Beaurevoir, we are not informed of military campaigns toward Rouen that were intended to break her out. The film prefers to present events, for the most part, from Joan's perspective.

      Sandrine Bonnaire gives a great performance as Joan. While most films about the saint paint her as  an heroic, legendary figure and/or a suffering, persecuted mystic; this film emphasizes Joan's humanity. As played by Bonnaire she is a determined and deeply pious if somewhat inexperienced young woman. She possesses a disarming quality, seeming to earn the respect, devotion and trust of everyone she meets, even the vulgar, brusque soldiers she fights alongside (indeed Joan's berating of her fellow soldiers for cursing and blasphemy are some of the best scenes in the film) but she also displays, at times, an emotional vulnerability and, occasionally, a sense of doubt.

     Joan the Maid is a unique and powerful piece of cinema. Carl Theodor Dreyer's The Passion of Joan of Arc may always remains the quintessential film about the saint, but this is a close second. It's a slow burn but a rewarding one for the patient viewer. 

Score: 10/10

Next week: Fatima (2020)

Lent Reviews Week 3: The Keys of the Kingdom (1944)

     The Keys of the Kingdom was released on December 15th, 1944. An adaptation of the novel by A. J. Cronin it is directed by John M. Stahl from a script by Nunnally Johnson and Joseph L. Mankiewicz. It tells the story of a Scottish Catholic priest, Gregory Peck's Father Francis Chisholm, who is sent to China in the 1870's to evangelize. 

     Father Chisholm is a somewhat unorthodox priest. He is unusually (for his time) opened minded and tolerant of others beliefs. We first meet him as an aging priest who is being pushed to retire by his bishop. Some of his comments (“The Christian is a good man, but the Confucian usually has a better sense of humour.” "Not all atheists are godless.") have scandalized his parishioners in Tweedside. When the priest sent to assess the situation, Sir Cedric Hardwicke's Monsignor Sleeth, comes across the Francis' diary, it is revealed where many of these attitudes came from. 

      The film is told in flashback, with the Monsignor's reading of passages from the diary serving as a voice-over. We discover that Francis was born to a Catholic father and a Protestant mother, both of whom died when he was a child after his father was beaten by an anti-Catholic mob. This incident, and the influence of his protestant mother, left on young Francis a lifelong attitude of tolerance toward other beliefs. We also meet his lifelong friend Dr. Willie Tulloch (Thomas Mitchell), a militant atheist but also a decent and charitable man who eventually dies while trying to serve others.

     The prevailing quality that Father Chisholm displays is steadfastness in the face of continual trial and rejection. He struggles, in his early years of priesthood, to find acceptance on account of his unorthodox ways. Because of this his Bishop, Hamish MacNa'b (Edmund Gwenn), an old mentor from the seminary, decides to send him to China. Throughout the film he is guided by words MacNabb's words to him, "I think you'd make a good priest, Francis. And now you've discovered how frighteningly human we are. I can't help thinking you're in the church not by chance, but for a reason."

     When he first arrives in Paitan, China Chisholm finds the mission he is assigned to in ruins, while most of the parishioners, "rice Christians" who only attended Church to receive free rice, have moved on. Francis, tending an empty parish and scorned by the people of the village, soon becomes jaded but his faith is renewed when a young man named Joseph, one of the few really faithful converts, offers to help him rebuild and together they begin to get the mission back in order. Before long, Chisholm begins attending to the sick and injured of the village. 

     At one point he is called in to help the son of  a local official named Mr. Chia (Leonard Strong), who is suffering from an infection and may die if not cured. Chisholm is able to save the boy and his father, in gratitude, offers to convert to Christianity. The priest turns down the offer as the conversion would not be genuine. He sees no difference between doing this and giving the parishioners rice in exchange for their support. Chia decides, instead, to donate some his his land and provide laborers to help rebuild the mission. Again and again he finds success in the face of seeming defeat.

     When a war breaks out between the Emperor and a group of republican rebels, Chisholm's old friend Willie comes to visit him and together they create a hospital to serve the injured soldiers and civilians. Tragically, the church is destroyed during the bombardment and Willie is fatally injured. The imperial general then arrives at the mission, demanding that Father stop assisting the rebel wounded and that he turn over all the mission's food and funds, threatening to destroy the mission and kill everyone in it if he refuses to cooperate. Left with no better options, Fr. Chisholm goes to the commander of the reel forces with a plan to destroy the Imperial soldier's canon, a plan which ultimately pays off. Afterwards, standing amidst the ruins of the Church he worked so hard to build, he tells the Reverend Mother Maria-Veronica (Rose Stradner) ''No one can destroy my church... I shall build it again... As long as I live I shall build my church."

     The Reverend Mother is presented as something of a foil for Father Chisholm. When she first arrives at the mission, she treats him with cold disdain, refusing to have dinner with him, and insisting on complete autonomy when it comes to her and the sisters. In a letter to her mother she describes him as a "peasent priest", "dripping with good fellowship" and writes of her fear of the future, serving the "lowliest subjects of God's kingdom and dedicated to a belief in their equality (she shudders at this word) before God." We eventually find out that she resents Chisholm because of her aristocratic background. To her, serving in this poor, primitive country is a cross. Chisolm, who she regards as her social inferior, seems to take it so cheerfully and effortlessly that she can't help but resent him deeply. It's only when Chisholm's old friend Angus Mealey (Vincent Price), now a Monsignor, comes to visit the mission and treats him contemptuously ("You ought to impress the natives, make more of a show.") that she has a change of heart and begs his forgiveness. 

      The final act of the film deals with Father's departure from Paitan, having been transferred back to Scotland. He bids a tearful farewell to all the friends he has made in China and sets off bravely to his new assignment where (as we know from the beginning of the film) he will once more meet with resistance. Monsignor Sleeth, having read his story, realizes that Fr. Chisholm is a good and holy priest, and assures him that he will bring a favorable report to the Bishop. 

      A. J. Cronin, on whose novel the film was based, was himself a Scottish Catholic who had a Catholic father and a Protestant mother. Though I have not read the novel I know that it is dedicated to a friend of Cronin's who was a missionary in China and it is likely that the author drew inspiration from his friend's experience there for his book. I also understand that the film softens Chisholm’s unorthodox views which, in the novel, are much closer to heresy. The only really problematic scene in the film is Dr. Tulloch's death scene, where he tells Chisholm, "I've never loved you as much as I do now, because  you haven't tried to bully me into heaven." In any case, it is somewhat apparent that the story is a little truncated here. There are a few characters, in particular Francis' childhood sweetheart Nora and her daughter, who Francis says, "means a great deal to me" though she is never seen on screen, as well as Anna, the little orphan girl who he adopts when her grandmother becomes ill, all feel rather underdeveloped and I suspect, were probably more fleshed out in the book. 

      Outside of these few quibbles, I think this is a splendid adaptation, set firmly in the classical Hollywood tradition. The script is full of wit and Fr. Chisholm, in particular, has many quotable lines that reveal the characters humanity. After healing Mr. Chia's son and being coolly dismissed by his servant (Philip Ahn), he prays, "Dear Lord, let me have patience and forbearance where now I have anger. Give me humility, Lord; after all, it was only thy merciful goodness and thy divine providence that saved the boy... but they *are* ungrateful and You know it!" Arthur C. Miller (The Song of Bernadette) provides some vivid cinematography, filled with atmospheric lighting, which helps lend the otherwise set bound film with a sense of atmosphere. Alfred Newman, as always, provides a moving score, interweaving Scottish and Chinese timbre to complement the film's international setting.

     Gregory Peck is magnificent as the Scottish priest, his performance anticipating his later role as Hugh O'Flaherty in The Scarlet and the Black. Both men possess an witty sense of humor and, at times, clash with their superiors, though O'Flaherty is certainly more orthodox then Chisholm. Peck is backed up by a fine cast of Hollywood regulars. Roddy McDowall plays Francis as a child and Dennis Hoey (probably best known for playing Lestrade in the Basil Rathbone Sherlock Holmes films) plays his father. Benson Fong, another actor from detective movies, having played Charlie Chan's son in a number of pictures, is Joseph, Francis' most faithful friend and ally. Thomas Mitchell is Chisholm's hard-drinking but kind hearted atheist doctor friend while Vincent Price is his arrogant, worldly fellow priest and later superior. Sir Cedric Hardwicke provides a dry, stentorious narration as Monsignor Sleeth while James Gleason appears in a brief role as a protestant minister who arrives in Paitan near of the end of Chisholm's stay there. Leonard Strong, an American actor who usually played Asians, is eminently respectible Mr. Chia, who eventually experiences a true conversion. Edmund Gwenn, best known for playing Kris Kringle in Miracle on 34th Street (1947), is delightful as Father (later Bishop) MacNabb, bringing his unique warmth and vivacity to the role. Finally, Rose Stradner, wife of writer/producer Joseph L. Mankiewicz, puts in a worthy performance in her final role as Reverend Mother Maria-Veronica.

     The Keys of the Kingdom is an underrated Catholic film from Hollywood's golden age and tells a compelling story of a deeply devoted but profoundly human priest.

Score: 9/10

Next week we will look at the two-part French film Joan the Maid (1994).

Lent Reviews Year 8, Week 2: The Flowers of St. Francis (1950)

“He was, to the last agonies of asceticism, a Troubadour. He was a Lover. He was a lover of God and he was really and truly a lover of men; possibly a much rarer mystical vocation.”  

- G. K. Chesterton on St. Francis

     The Flowers of St. Francis was released on December 14th, 1950. It is directed by Roberto Rossellini and written by Rossellini and Federico Fellini. Based on two books, Fioretti Di San Francesco (Little Flowers of St. Francis) and La Vita di Frate Ginepro (The Life of Brother Juniper), both of which presented various, episodic stories of St. Francis of Assisi and the early Franciscans, the film is structured as a series of nine vignettes. 

     The film opens as we see Francis and his followers, returning from Rome where Francis has received the Pope's blessing for his order, trudging through the rain and mud to seek the shelter of their hut, which they are evicted from by a peasant who has occupied the hut in their absence. Francis feels guilty that his followers have been made to suffer because of him, but they assure him that that are filled with joy at this suffering and together they sing a hymn of praise to God. This sequence sets up many of the film's recurrent themes: the spirit of poverty among the friars, Francis' sense of responsibility as their leader, and the often hostile reaction toward their mission among lay people.

     In the first two vignettes, we see Francis trying to deal with overzealous followers. In "How Brother Ginepro returned naked to St. Mary of the Angels..." we see the titular brother Ginepro show up at the brothers' new hut without his habit, having given it to a poor beggar. Francis rebukes Ginepro for his naivety and commands him to respect his authority and ask permission in the future. In the second vignette, "How Giovanni asked to follow Francis and began imitating him in word and gesture" we are introduced to an old man named Giovanni, who comes to Francis asking to become his follower. He then starts to follow Francis around and attempt imitate him exactly. Earlier in this episode we see Francis instructing his brothers to preach by example and Giovanni's actions are a testament to the saint's own power to inspire by example, even if the old man may do this a little too literally.  

     The third vignette portrays the relationship between Francis and St. Clare, as the holy nun and her followers come to visit Francis at his monastery of St. Mary of the Angels. We see the other brothers acting like excited young schoolboys as they straighten up the monastery and freshen themselves up in preparation for their arrival. It serves a sequel, of sorts, to the first vignette, as Ginepro returns, again without his cloak, with the excuse that he only told the beggar that he wouldn't resist if he took it from him. This leads into the fourth vignette, "How Brother Ginepro cut off a pig’s foot to give to a sick brother." Here, Ginepro and Giovanni are caring for Brother Amarsebello, who has made himself sick from too much fasting. Amarsebello expresses a desire for a pigs foot, so Ginepro finds a herd of pigs and cuts off one of their feet without a second thought. He is reprimanded for this when the pigs owner returns and complains to Francis about the damage to his herd. Francis commands Ginepro to beg forgiveness from the swineherd, which he does, earning his forgiveness. In both of these vignettes we see, again, the simplicity and childlike attitude of Francis' followers.

     The fifth vignette "How Francis, praying one night in the woods, met the leper" portrays one of the most well known episodes from the saint's life. Francis, while meditating alone on the passion of Our Lord, is roused from his mediation by a passing leper. Overcoming his initial revulsion at seeing the leper, Francis is compelled to follow the outcast man and he embraces and kisses him, afterward giving praise to God for bringing this encounter to him. A singularly austere vignette, it is the one most focused on the saint himself, and beautifully reveals his character and the depths of his charity.

     Then we have a pair of vignettes focusing on Ginepro. In the first he decides to cook all the Friar's store of food at once so that they can eat enough for the next two weeks and thus have more time to preach. Of course this turns out to be a massive waste of food. Nevertheless, a disgruntled Francis grants him permission to go preach, instructing him to begin each sermon with the words, "I talk and talk yet accomplish little," partly in the hope that Ginepro will learn something from the experience. In the second vignette, Ginepro goes out to preach and is taken prisoner by the soldiers of the warlord Nicolaio, who believes that the monk is an assassin sent to kill him. On questioning him, the warlord is completely befuddled by his own inability to intimidate him and, conquered by the monks childlike humility, is ultimately lead to call off his impending siege. Here we see, again, that it is the actions of Ginepro, and not his words, that bring about conversion. 

     There is an emphasis, in the last two vignettes, of placing absolute trust in God. In "How Brother Francis and Brother Leone experienced those things that are perfect happiness" the two friars discuss what might bring them perfect happiness. To instruct Leone, Francis suggests that they go begging for alms. When they are chased away by a peasant with a club, Francis tells Leone that this is perfect happiness: "to suffer and bear every evil deed out of love for Christ." Then, in "How St. Francis left St. Mary of the Angels with his friars..." Francis instructs his friars to spin around circles until they fall over from dizziness and then to go out preaching in the direction they fall. This act of trust in God serves as a fitting coda for the film. 

     The Flowers of St. Francis is made firmly in the Italian neorealist tradition by its preeminent auteur, Roberto Rossellini. As with most films in this movement, it does not feature professional actors (with the exception of Aldo Fabrizi, who practically chews the scenery in his role as the tyrant Nicolaio). Instead, Rossellini cast the Franciscan friars of the Nocere Inferiore monastery in Rome to play Francis and his followers, with the other roles being played by local Italians in the Roman countryside, where the film was shot. The cinematography by Otello Martelli is stark, emphasizing the bleakness of the friars surroundings, though he also captures much of the beauty in nature that Francis so loved. 

     The film eschews a traditional narrative structure and is instead united by its themes: simplicity, joy, humility, long-suffering, absolute trust in and obedience to God. A few key scenes illustrate the character of Francis himself: his abjectness at his brothers enduring the rainfall without shelter; his recitation of the canticle of creatures, before he is interrupted by Giovanni; his joyful reaction at the rejection of the the peasant to his and Leone's preaching; and the episode with the leper. The main focus, however, is on the other brothers, especially Ginepro and Giovanni, and their zealous devotion to Francis' humble way of life.

     Though it is crude at times especially for those not accustomed to Italian neorealism, The Flowers of St. Francis is, nonetheless, edifying viewing for the faithful Catholic, particularly during this penitential season.

Score: 9/10

Next week we will look at Gregory Peck in The Keys of the Kingdom (1944).

Lent Reviews Year 8, Week 1: Into Great Silence (2005)

     On the DVD cover of Into Great Silence it is described by various critics as "intoxicating," "breathtaking," and "utterly spellbinding." With all due respect to these critics the only word that really captures the film's essence is sublime. The film's director, Philip Gröning, had asked permission of the Carthusian monks of the Grande Chartreuse monastery in the French Alps to make this film in 1984. They told him they would think about it. Sixteen years later, permission was finally granted and Gröning spent six months in the monastery, without any crew, recording the monks day-to-day life.

     This is not a film for casual viewing nor is it an "informational" documentary about the lives of cloistered monks. Early on, we see two postulants enter the monastery but we never discover if they eventually go on to make their final vows. They do not serve as POV characters nor does the film follow their journey. Indeed, the film has no narrative structure at all but there is a poetic sort of structure that emerges as the film progresses. Dispersed throughout are quotes from the scriptures. Two passages, in particular, are repeated over and over again. The first is the well known words of Our Blessed Lord from St. Luke's Gospel, "Anyone who does not give up all he has cannot be my disciple." The other is from the Prophet Jeremiah, "O Lord, you have seduced me, and I was seduced."

     Both of these passages highlight the contemplative life of poverty that the monks of Chartreuse have dedicated themselves to. They have given up all things to follow the Lord and they have been, in return, "seduced" by His Love. There is very little dialogue, though we do hear the monks read from the Church Fathers and there is also chanting, as we see the monks gather for matins. It is here that we see one of the films most haunting images: a single red candle alight in a sea of darkness. It is largely through such images that the film communicates meaning. Generally, the aforementioned quotes are followed by a series of close-up of the monks, seated as if for an interview. The director is here inviting us to contemplation. How have these words drawn these men to the life we are now witnessing?

     If the juxtaposition of different images and words is used to create meaning, so is the composition and style of the shots themselves. Some shots are excessively grainy (presumably as a result of digital zoom) while others are crystal clear. This is likely due, in part, to practical constraints. The director could only get so many camera set-up on his own and so "created" close-ups in post using a digital zoom. However the grainy look of these shots suggest to me the delicate nature of our earthly existence in comparison to "the Great Eternal Now" of God. Indeed, the occasional glimpses we get of the world outside the monastery (a passing airplane, some tourists roaming around the grounds) are shot this way. 

     The cyclical nature of our temporal experience is, I think, the central theme of the film. The most consistent pattern that persists throughout it echoes that ancient monastic practice of the Rule of Saint Benedict: Ora et labora (pray and work). Much of the film is taken up with observing the monks doing everyday tasks: preparing meals, chopping wood, cleaning up around the monastery; and also engaged in prayer, study, and meditation. This is juxtaposed with shots of the mountains, forests and fields which surround the monastery. There are occasional interruptions of this pattern: a monk goes to feed some stray cats, a herd of cattle wanders into the monastery one morning; but, for the most part, as the seasons come and go, life inside the monastery continues, much the same from day to day, as it has for hundreds of years. 

      The monks are eventually seen to venture outside the monastery (a weekly practice I believe) and engage in a casual conversation, in particular about the practice of washing their hands before entering the refectory. One of the monks suggests that they get rid of this practice, pointing out that the Carthusians of Selignac have not done so for twenty years. Another monk disagrees, arguing that symbolic gestures such as this are vitally important to their way of life. "When we abolish the signs, we lose the orientation. Instead we should search for their meaning. But one should unfold the core of the symbols. The signs are not to be questioned, we are." 

     We are, again, invited to contemplate these words, given as water in the desert. So often in the Church today, forgetting the meaning behind our traditions, we are all too ready to simply discard them. Time spent in silence and contemplation may urge us to rediscover their meaning. And this is what Into Great Silence invites us to do. All of the words in the film, whether spoken or shown in intertitles, have this staying power. One of the monks, a blind man, is interviewed by Gröning, and his words echo throughout the films lasts moments. Some of these words speak to the meeting of time and eternity that I have already alluded to: "In God there is no past. Solely the present prevails. And when God sees us, He always sees our entire life. And because He is an infinitely good being, He eternally seeks our well-being." Others show how, through these patterns and especially through silence, we come to know God:" The closer one brings oneself to God, the happier one is, the faster one hurries to meet Him. One should have no fear of death. On the contrary! For us, it is a great joy to find a Father once again."

     Though the tone of the film is austere, we do, by the end, see the monks engage in all kinds of frivolous activities that one might not necessarily associate with the Religious life. One monk is seen using an electric keyboard to practice singing on key. Another uses a computer to keep track of orders for the wine the brothers make. Some of them even go sledding! The monks lives are filled with these simple joys that most of us take for granted. The ending of the film mirrors the beginning, showing many of the same shots or, at least, similar ones: a monk praying in his cell, glimpses of a fire at night and the sky during the day. It begins and ends with a passage from the book of Kings: "Then a great and powerful wind tore the mountains apart and shattered the rocks before the Lord, but the Lord was not in the wind. After the wind there was an earthquake, but the Lord was not in the earthquake. After the earthquake came a fire, but the Lord was not in the fire. And after the fire came a gentle whisper."

     The motto of the Carthusians is Stat crux dum volvitur orbis, Latin for "The Cross is steady while the world turns." Into Great Silence, as its title suggests, invites the viewer to search for the mystery of the Cross and Resurrection amidst the patterns of life and death, winter and spring, that permeate all of our lives.