I called this a reflection rather than a review because as a friend and I ruminated in an after-viewing debriefing, Mel Gibson’s “The Passion of the Christ” is not simply a film. I cannot simply say, “I liked it better than this movie or that movie.” Besides, as Danny Minton of KBTV in Beaumont Texas quipped, “One cannot rely on any critic for this film because a biased opinion lies behind every review.” It is not the sort of film one would ‘pop in the DVD player’ on a Saturday night as a movie to watch with friends. This is a film that I personally approached with anticipation, and watched, riveted with a mixture of sorrow, horror, joy, and worshipful adoration. I have never cried so much during a movie, but I did not feel empty or haunted at the end, unless it's a the kind of haunting that produces a profound sense of renewed hope in the power of grace.

     As a result I’ll jump around a lot from personal reflection to artistic appreciation. The film struck me on so many levels it will likely be quite some time before I’ve been able to process it all. I’ll likely make changes and additions to this article in the weeks to come.

    My first reflection is that unlike many, I am looking forward to experiencing it again. This is not some warped religious sadism; this film has been appropriately released for the season of Lent, and will likely still be in theaters come Good Friday. It is a unparalleled mediation of the sufferings of Christ, which has been an essential part of the Lenten season for me since I was in my first year of Bible School in 1991 and was asked to write and direct an Easter musical for my home church in Medicine Hat.

    The associate pastor wanted to produce something more visceral and reality based in relation to the sufferings of Christ, an artistic vision met with opposition by church elders who were uncomfortable enough with an actor portraying Christ, let alone portraying him on the cross. My own personal journey into the life of Christ during the writing of the play was a life-changing one. I had never really apprehended the humanity of Christ until doing the research for the play, through reading Jim Bishop’s “The Day Christ Died,” viewing Jesus of Nazareth and taking a Synoptic Gospels course.

   In preparation for the performances, the cast took communion together, viewed videos of the life of Christ, and went on a Via Dolorosa of our own with a cross built from massive beams that took nearly the whole cast to carry to a Good Friday service. The makeup artist who did Christ’s wounds wept in the midst of the crucifixion scene, as did the actor playing the Centurion as he watched the stage blood run. We lived the story as we prepared to deliver it.

   The journey was repeated the next year, but the following year found me in Edmonton with no connection to a church community where I could invest myself in such a production. It would be several years before I would find a new outlet for my Lenten reflection; it came in the form of a 12 hour vigil reading “The Day Christ Died” out loud for the youth group I was working with. The book moves through the last 22 hours of Christ’s life; combining readings with an actual foot washing, communion, a prayer walk and a time of confession, the vigil was another milestone in my Lenten experiences.
I’ve repeated the vigil now several times, but it has always lacked the sensory impact creating and performing the Passion plays did. Seeing “The Passion of the Christ” tonight transported me back to that place of contemplating the cross in every painful detail.

   It's likely why I'm anticipating a second viewing where others have called it "The Best movie they never want to see again." This is not the first time I've meditated upon Christ's sufferings in a visual sense. I was reminded many times of the same sense I had during the Lord of the Rings film trilogy, where I would nod my head in appreciation of Jackson's interpretation. At no point in "The Passion" did I feel that I would have done it differently. I have no complaints about the film.

    To begin with, the decision to make the film in the original languages was far more powerful than I’d anticipated, though I was very thankful for the subtitles. As a former student of Hebrew, which is similar to Aramaic in spots, hearing words I knew had not been uttered for over a thousand years created a complete illusion. I felt as though I had time traveled seeing Jesus in the Garden of Gethsemane in the opening moments of the film.
The second highlight was Rosalinda Celentano as Satan in what is easily the best on-screen portrayal of the Accuser I’ve yet seen. Androgynous, gothic, and serpentine in movement, Celentano’s every moment in the film is fantastically chilling. Here I must note that for all of the realism in the Passion, the film is, in the end very iconic, and Satan’s early appearance in the film is evidence of that. The crushing of a snake under Jesus’ foot is artistic theology at its best. This is not simply a historic account. This is a film made about a faith.

   Intermittent flashbacks throughout the film allow the audience to catch their breath amidst the intensely raw violence that Christ is subjected to. I must note that I would echo a reviewer from imdb.com who wrote, “Many reviewers have commented on the violence. Is this a violent film? Yes. Is it an exceptionally violent film? Yes. Is it an inappropriately violent film? I don't think so. Mel Gibson is asking the question "What was it like to die for the sins of the world?" No film can truly answer this question, but I applaud Icon pictures for making the attempt.

   The flashbacks also serve as theological counterpoints to Christ’s sufferings. I have seen many actors deliver the lines “You are my friends…true friendship is this, that one lays down their life for their friends” and never had it impact me as powerfully as it does in “Passion.” There is usually another hour between that statement and the words lived out loud. In “Passion” the moment comes instantly, and the words aren’t simply lived out loud; they’re a roar like a violent wind.
The events leading to Judas’ suicide are also a fresh look at this tragic figure. Too many films on the life of Christ have relegated Judas’ actions to being misguided, but “Passion” takes the approach of the Gospels, and sees Judas tormented by evil spirits, to the point where the despair drives him to take his life.

   Unlike many writers, I have no comments on the anti-Semitic accusations, or the comments that the film is too violent. Everyone’s going to form an opinion on this film and they’ll likely all be black and white, which to me attests to its veracity as a work of theology. An accurate portrayal of Christ should divide people into starkly contrasted camps; his own life on earth certainly did. I would agree with Joshua Tyler of Cinemablend.com who said that “how you react to it depends mostly on what you take in with you.”

   I can’t agree that the film is a “great ministry tool” as many churches are espousing it as, but I do agree enthusiastically with Steve Beard of thunderstruck.org who wrote the following at hollywoodjesus.com: “This is the Sunday school flannel board lesson for a generation that grew up on violent video games, skipped church, and stood in line to watch Quentin Tarantino’s Kill Bill, Volume 1-a gratuitously bloody movie with no redemptive purpose.” I don’t much like the idea of “ministry tools” in relation to sharing the Gospel with people since I don’t get the impression from Christ’s final words to his followers that they would need any other tools than themselves and His Spirit within them. This is not to say such tools are bad, or wrong, but that people far too often invest faith in those things, as the people of God did in the Ark of the Covenant, Gideon’s ephod, the bronze snake, the Temple, etc., etc.

    For myself, I don’t need it to be a ministry tool; with apocalyptic certainty the film pushed itself toward the inexorable destiny upon the cross. I was reminded of the fatalistic sensation that swept over me the first time I saw “Titanic” and the ship began its final descent into the Atlantic, only this was magnified many times over. This film was not, contrary to Rev. Mark Stranger, “100 percent Hollywood trash.” It was a journey, one that I was sucked into almost immediately and was sad to leave at the end.

    In closing, I would like to quote George Bernard Shaw’s “Saint Joan.” “A miracle, my friend, is an event which creates faith. That is the purpose and nature of miracles. Frauds deceive. An event which creates faith does not deceive: therefore it is not a fraud, but a miracle.” By such a definition, the “Passion of the Christ” was for me, a miracle.