Noah's Ark: A Musical Adventure (Arca de Noé, Brazil, 2024)

Despite all my research into the story of the flood in recent months, somehow I almost missed the release of Noah's Ark: A Musical Adventure, or as it is known in it's native Brazil, simply Arca de Noé. It's an animated film that sits squarely in the box of animation for kids and hit theatres in the UK rather aptly during the summer holidays when parents often find themselves seeking shelter from the rain.

Arca is inspired by a 1975 poem by Brazilian poet, musician, playwright and diplomat Vinicius de Moraes, perhaps best known outside of his own country for pioneering bossa nova music on the soundtrack for Orfeu Negro (Black Orpheus, 1959) along with his co-writer Antônio Carlos Jobim, singer Elizeth Cardoso and guitarist João Gilberto. Moraes' poem (translated here) offers a loving tribute to the biodiversity of the flood story. Noah gets a mention, early on but Moraes quickly moves on to his family, before there's a flurry of neat little descriptions of animal activity overflowing with life.

If this adaptation of the flood story comes to us via Moraes, directors Alois Di Leo and Sergio Machado and their writers Heloísa Périssé and Ingrid Guimarães have certainly brought in plenty of their own ideas too. Neither the Bible nor Moraes talk about two musical mice who having not received an invitation to board the ark, delivered courtesy of literal blue birds, are determined to try and get on anyway. The bluebirds, certainly as represented by their leader Kilgore, tip the hat to various cultural landmarks: the delivery company; Apocalypse Now;* the former Twitter logo; and the computer game turned movie Angry Birds. In a way they typify the movie, which always feels like it's trying to be, or at least refer to, something else. At times it feels like Madagascar (2005) or Singin' in the Rain (1952) or The Lion King (1995). Even Noah's quirky coloured shades seem to borrow from El Arca (dir: Juan Pablo Buscarini, 2007) although I suppose that may in turn derive from an illustrated children's book based on Moraes' poem that's popular in both South American countries. 

Like various animated re-tellings of the flood story, Noah's role is fairly small (the last animated Noah film to percolate down to local cinemas in the UK, 2015's Two by Two, left him out entirely). We witness him hearing God's call at the start of the film, and he crops up regularly throughout, but we do so mainly because one of the film's two rodent heroes Vini and Tom/Tito awakes during the moment of revelation and so goes to investigate.

The moment itself draws on God's call to Moses in films like The Prince of Egypt, although here the booming words from the sky are accompanied by southern lights-style colours in the sky. This is particularly apt given that I've been enjoying their northern counterparts causing wonders this week amidst the aesthetically pleasing aftermath of the X7.1 electromagnetic solar storm.

In a strange sort of way it's God's part of the conversation with Noah that seems most reminiscent of the call of Moses. God does not come out of it particularly well. He's presented as unstable and unpredictable. Initially he tells Noah of his plans to destroy the world and the audience can sympathise with Noah when he questions what he's told with "don't you think that's a bit much?" Recently I've been comparing the way Jewish tradition contrasts Noah, who in the Bible fails to protest when God informs him of his plans, with Abraham and Moses, both of whom question God and win some concessions as a result. So if God is shown in this film to be a bit changeable, that certainly has its origins in the Bible. 

Soon after, God moves into a more angry mode when Noah fails to agree straight away: "am I stuttering?" he thunders back in a way that will perturb both fans of the Bible/Torah/Qur'an and anyone who, like me, is finding the repeated use of that particular phrase deeply grating. But then when Noah asks what God's going to do while he is building the boat, God seems slightly hurt as he suggests "I can get the invitations out". 

Having realised God's plans, the two mice (or are they rats? I'm sure they're called both during the course of the film) decide to try and sneak aboard, even though the invitations are quite clear that it's only one male and female of every species. Back at Noah's house this part of God's dictum is also causing some consternation. "What about other types of families?" Noah's granddaughter Susana asks. It's fair to say Susana is not on board with the whole operation. When her grandfather fist reveals his plans she exclaims "What if everyone drowns? That's going to look so bad for him."

Interestingly Susana becomes the film's most prominent human from that moment on. She's a similar age to most of the film's target audience (about 7 I would imagine) and is enchanted by and becomes friends with many of the animals. Still it's interesting that concerns that pass many by are put so simply and eloquently on the lips of a young child. From a biblical point of view, it's interesting that Noah's three sons are not really part of the film. Susana is not presented as an orphan, nor is there any mention of them. Given the kind of film this is, I think that's quite a bold and positive move. The symmetry of the eight people on board the ark in Genesis doesn't completely preclude infants, and it makes the story far more relatable to its core audience (children).

The film's other interesting decision in this respect is that -- aside from the call of Noah -- Noah's wife (called Ruth here) gets equal screen time her husband thereafter. This is something of a first. Both Jennifer Connelly in Noah (2014) and Joanne Whalley in The Ark (2015) play more-developed versions of Noah's wife than the character found in the Bible whose actions and contributions are not recorded; whose words are not documented; and who is mentioned only as a passenger. Here her contribution is certainly felt. She brings warmth, wisdom and compassion to proceedings, a care for the animals and for Susana. 

More recent depictions of the flood story, particularly 2014's Noah, have been criticised for their all-white casts (see Wil Gafney, Micah David Naziri and Ryan Herring for example). But this film is not a Hollywood film, it's from Brazil, a country where, according to its latest census, "45.3% of the country’s population reported being brown.... 43.5% reported being white... 10.2%, black". So it's perhaps not surprising that this ethnic mix is reflected in the three human characters: Susana is depicted with brown skin, Noah is White and Ruth is depicted as and voiced by a Black woman. It's surprising that it's taken so long for this mix of nationalities to emerge, given that the conclusion of the story is that all people (and thus all ethnicities)  come from the handful of humans who survive the flood.

If questions about "other types of families" and the use of a diverse 'cast' sound a little too modern, then this probably isn't the film for you. The film delights in slipping anachronistic elements of the modern world into this almost pre-historic story. There are mentions of selfies, body shaming and going viral. The Scar-esque male lion Baruk even tells the other animals to "give me a like" at one point. 

Anyway, having got wind of the ark's imminent departure, Tom and Vini (who is presumably named after Moraes) try to get onboard anyway. Their first effort sees them simply walking up the gang-plank along with all the other animals, simply hoping not to get seen. However, as they progress up the slope their mood turns to fear. Indeed, there's an unusual atmosphere among all the animals. The film really brings out their differing concerns. Big creatures are concerned about stepping on smaller ones. Some worry other animals will eat them. The latter fears turn out to be not without foundation. When the verbosely loquacious Baruk and some of his predator cronies see so many animals in such a confined space they draw on another modern phrase describing the scene as an "all you can eat buffet". I can't quite work out if giving the lion a very similar first name to a recent US President is a deliberate reference to American self-interest overseas, but perhaps I'm reading too much into that.

But the musical duo's initial efforts flounder when they meet Nina, the female mouse who had received an official invite. Having two male mice turn up throws her off guard and the resulting kerfuffle sees plan come into action. A second, much smaller boat, housing some of the other less-desirable animals has set sail to try and board the ark surreptitiously. Here we find that the cockroaches, mosquitoes and head lice turn out to be of a far greater moral character than the king of the beasts, Baruk.

Despite Baruk having seized control of the assembled animals, through fear and intimidation, he has one fatal flaw -- a desire to be lauded as a musician and it's here where the mice and their new friends are able to use their musical prowess to save the day. But this whole extended section is overly complicated and dull and even an interesting subplot involving a low-on-confidence dove can't keep the second half afloat. Moreover, despite a number of songs being crammed into this final section, none of the film's music really stands out. I wanted Tom and Vini to have at least one really good ballad. 

That said, the film is certainly not as bad as its current 4.3 rating on IMDb suggests. There are some interesting ideas as well as some fun ones and, among the plethora of nods to other films, there's some originality there as well. That's quite an achievement given 4000 years of adaptations of the flood story. So even if it's nowhere near The Prince of Egypt (1998) its certainly superior to 2002's Jonah a VeggieTales Movie.  

* I owe that observation to Jeremy Clarke's review of the film.

In the Beginning: The Story of Noah (1986)

Back in 2020 I wrote an initial post about a Japanese anime series Kyuuyaku Seisho Monogatari (In the Beginning) initiated by the renown director Tezuka Osamu. I meant to write up a few entries of the series, particularly the ones that almost included Nehemiah, but apparently never got around to it. However, now I'm doing a deep dive on adaptations of Noah, I thought now would be a good time to revisit that entry at. least, and maybe start the ball rolling with the others.

As it happens, The Story of Noah, is not a bad place to start, because it was the pilot and was finished around 1986, six years before the project came to completion. Although Tezuka continued to work on other episodes of In the Beginning, he died in 1989 and the series was completed without him. So, not only was The Story of Noah the pilot, it was possibly also the standard to which the others would be compared. 

In terms of tone, these are in the same ball park as many Bible-related animated adaptations. It's generally trying to offer a dramatised standard take on the text. Some bits are simplified (the animals only go in pairs, not fourteens for clean animals), more adult content is left out (the story doesn't get to Genesis 9 where Noah gets drunk and naked) and it adds in extra material to make the story work as drama.

For example, in Genesis Noah doesn't speak until after the aforementioned drunkenness, here the filmmakers give him and his family some dialogue in earlier scenes. We also see Noah being mocked and encountering opposition which is also not in the biblical account (or elsewhere as far as I recall). These things attempt to make the ancient text into a modern drama.

As this is a series, there's some harmonisation to make all the episodes feel similar. The most obvious example of this is a mischievous cartoon fox who appears in each episode, but perhaps a bigger issue is that such an approach essentially takes a range of texts written in quite different genres and standardises their tone. This reinforces the impression of univocality rather than the diversity of the biblical texts.

Overall (based on these episodes) the series seems is probably going for presenting a version of the texts most would be happy with and then trying to present it in such a way as to make it accessible for kids (without alienating adults). Given that, it's surprising that the episode starts by giving rather more attention to humanity's "wickedness" than most such child-orientated adaptations. The episode starts briefly touching on the Gen 6:1-4 about the sons of God having children by human women. There's also a brief shot of a naked woman's chest, which I don't think I've seen in any other Noah film.

There are some other visual innovations.  When Noah hears God tell him to build an ark he also sees a vision where it's sketched out in a white line drawing in the sky. The idea of Moses seeing a vision is one that emerges in later Jewish texts. When Noah tells his family what's happened there's some scepticism, especially from Ham. As the episode progresses Ham is consistently the one who is most likely to question, challenge or disagree with what Noah is doing. While the episode where Ham tells his brothers about their father's nakedness is not included, nor Noah's resulting curse upon Ham's son Cush, this seems to be at least a nod to it. Ham is perhaps the off-white sheep of the family.

The biblical text, doesn't actually say how long it took to build the ark, with some suggesting it took more than 100 years, or that Noah had time to first grow the trees he would use to build it. Here, it takes 7 days a number that's agrees with the Mesopotamian pre-cursors to the biblical flood story. This gives Noah's neighbours plenty of time to mock Noah, his wife and her sons (this is an idea that is developed more in the New Testament and the Qu'ran) and this forms quite an extended sequence. Some of Noah's neighbours also discuss sabotaging the ark, an idea found in texts such as Tanchuma Noach.

Like many child-orientated Noah products in popular culture (as well as animated shorts, I'm thinking of the popular ark playsets) there are attempts to lighten the mood. For example, there is a big focus on the animals arriving and the family's wonder at all these strange beasts. There are also some moments of humour here, skunks, Ham asking the scorpions not to bite him, octopodes riding on the back of a turtle etc.

When the flood finally comes we see both rain falling from the sky and water coming from the deep. This is part of the text that modern readers often overlook but seems to derive from the ancient worldview from which these texts emerged, and the idea that something fundamental changed the geology and physical processes by which the earth runs.

The flood scene doesn't shy away from the fact that people are losing their lives, including a Danby-esque scene of survivors clinging to a rock. Shem and his wife even lament the death of the people they knew. It also looks like the cross-series fox is without a partner and he is rejected by the other animals as he tries to find the female fox. Noah's sons are also unhappy about the lone-fox surviving. As are the rabbits who it tracks down, planning to eat them. I'll avoid spoiling how these various fox related story lines resolve themselves, as it's the only part of the story which is not from the text of Genesis.

It's not only the fox who ends up hungry. By the time the rain stops and the boat lands, the family has gone without food for several days and the animals are looking similarly peckish. This isn't an angle I've seen explored before. Shem and his wife discuss the possibility of farming the animals once things are back to normal, but we're not told about Noah going on to plant a vineyard or of his agricultural innovations. The family's story ends with Noah's sacrifice, God's promises and the rainbow.

Overall this is definitely one of the better animated takes on the story, perhaps not surprising given Tezuka's reputation. I'm not sure if/when I'll get round to writing about the rest of the series, but if/when I do I hope those entries completed after Tezuka's death continue in the manner of this pilot entry.

The Japanese Anime Bible SeriesTezuka Osamu no Kyuuyaku Seisho Monogatari/In the Beginning (1993)

Despite doing this for 20 years, somehow I'd been unaware of Tezuka Productions' animated Bible series In the Beginning only recently registered with me. The series is discussed in passing in Fumi Ogura and N. Frances Hioki's chapter on "Anime and the Bible" in "The Bible in Motion". I guess this is because there are so many hand-drawn animated series and so much else to write about I've never looked that closely.

Anyway, the series was actually commissioned by Italian TV network RAI to be primarily marketed towards children. Whilst Osamu Tezuka, the "Father of Manga", was the creative genius behind the studio,¹ the company's CEO at the time was Takayuki Matsutani who later recalled RAI's producer telling them "There are a few restrictions, but you are free to do what you want".² However, later there were disagreements with the series' biblical advisers.

The pilot, The Story of Noah, was finished around 1986 and although Tezuka continued to work on the other episodes, he died in 1989 and the series had to be completed without him. Director Dezaki Osamu is credited with the remaining episodes. Ogura & Hioki say that the series debuted on RAI in 1993, though various online sources cite 1997, including this one which also gives airing dates and a crew list. You can read what Ogura & Hioki say about it at Google Books and view all the entries on this convenient YouTube playlist.

The full list of titles in this series is as follows:

1 - The Creation
2 - Cain and Abel
3 - The Story of Noah
4 - The Tower of Babel
5 - Abraham, the Forefather
6 - Sodom and Gomorrah
7 - Isaac and Ishmael
8 - Isaac's Destiny
9 - Jacob's Children
10 - Joseph's Triumph
11 - Moses, The Egyptian
12 - The Fire in the Desert
13 - Moses and the Pharaoh
14 - The Exodus
15 - Laws Carved in Stone
16 - Israel's Treachery
17 - New Alliance
18 - Jericho
19 - One king for Israel
20 - King Saul
21 - King David
22 - King Solomon
23 - The Exile of Israel
24 - Release from Bondage
25 - Prophets in the Desert
26 - The Birth of Jesus

I'm going to watch some of these episodes and report back. Judging by the comments on YouTube they inspired a strong connection in some of those who watched them when they were young.

Incidentally this webpage also mentions a Brasilian anime series called "Superbook".
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1 - Osamu Tezuka is perhaps best known for his 1965-66 anime Kimba the White Lion which seems to have formed some of the inspiration behind The Lion King (1995).
2 - Ogura and Hioki give the following citation for this, but I've been unable to locate it - perhaps due to the anglicisation of the original Japanese title and my lack of Japanese:
Matsutani, Takayuki. 1994. "Seisho terebi shirizu-ka ni atatte." in Tenchi Sōzō. Ed Osamu Tezuka. Tezuka Osamu no Kyūyaku Seisho Monogatari Series 1. Tokyo: Shūeisha. Pp 284-286.

Testament: Joseph (1996)

As with several of the other entries in the Testament: Bible in Animation series, Joseph is made using the same Russian animation method that was the predominant style in The Miracle Maker (2000). However, whereas The Miracle Maker complemented its use of puppets with hand-drawn animation to represent psychological states of mind such as dreams, here the dreams of Joseph, his fellow prisoners and his pharaoh are merely reported rather than depicted. This preference for a more realist  approach is bold: it prioritises the story's original emphasis on its complex relationships, and Joseph's unlikely rise to power. However, within a decade The Prince of Egypt (1998) and its Joseph prequel Joseph: King of Dreams (2000) as well as The Miracle Maker produced such impressive, spectacular and acclaimed out of dream material that this film does rather suffer by comparison.

The story's economy is clear from the start - Joseph is about to be thrown into the well, and the characters dialogue naturally summarises the events that have already transpired. Joseph is sold to Potiphar, then refuses his wife and finds himself in jail. The filmmakers draw various visual parallels between well and prison, but Joseph's desperation is short lived: when he correctly interprets Pharaoh's dream he gets assigned the task of saving the country. Joseph again prospers and is eventually able to be reunited with his brothers and, more importantly, his father.

The expressive nature of the Russian animation really draw out the story's pathos, and makes this version a far more emotionally impacting portrayal of these events than either other animated efforts or even the various acted versions. I think the brevity of this portrayal helps in this respect, as well as the graceful yet sad movements and wide-eyed expressions on the puppets faces. The spectacular nature of Joseph's rise is really only apparent in the one scene (pictured above) when Joseph is first brought before Pharaoh. As much as I appreciate that moment, I can't help but feel that the filmmakers decision to opt for a simpler, more earthy, approach is justified by its ultimately more moving results.

Der Stern von Bethlehem (1921)

(The above screen-grab is from Reiniger's 1956 film The Star of Bethlehem)
One of the lost biblical films that I dearly hope will turn up in someone's attic one day is Lotte Reiniger's 1921 Der Stern von Bethlehem. For years I laboured under the mis-apprehension that the 1956 film The Star of Bethlehem which I reviewed here, was essentially just the 1921 film re-released with narration. Sadly I've now found out enough about this to make this appear highly unlikely. For one thing most of Reiniger's pre-WWII films were lost during the bombing of Berlin, though thankfully her classic The Adventures of Prince Achmed - made five years later in 1926 -  has survived and enjoyed a couple of recent restorations. The European Lost Films Archive officially lists this as lost.

Another key factor is that the 1921 film appeared so early in Reiniger's career that it seems unlikely her style would have developed to the level of sophistication on display in the 1956 film. The layering on the backgrounds, the use of colour and just the smoothness of the movement all suggest an artist at the top of her game. Prince Achmed is considered a masterpiece, but even with that it's plain to see the development in her technique.

That said Reiniger always gave the impression that she was just doing what came naturally to her. In a rare interview with her in 1976, she talked about how she was able to cut-out intricate figures from card from almost as soon as she was able to hold a pair of scissors.(1) You can see her at work in the 1970 documentary, The Art of Lotte Reiniger, and the speed with which she works is certainly impressive. She also included an animated version of her scissors cutting out the figures at the start of another of her surviving early films Cinderella (1922). The intricacy of these cut outs, the sleeves on the dresses here for example - in a hand-cut moving image - are incredible. Furthermore "Reiniger’s great strength as an animator is her inclusion of delicate little motions that imbue her creations with life".(2)

Reiniger started her career as an animator working on Paul Wegener's Der Rattenfänger von Hameln (The Pied Piper of Hamelin, 1918) aged just 17. The film was a live action movie, but when Wegener was struggling to get his rats to follow his piper he turned to Reiniger to produce an animated sequence instead. The year after Hameln's release she directed her own short film Das Ornament des verliebten Herzens (The Ornament of the Enamoured Heart, 1919) making her work more or less contemporary with the women featured in Kino Lorber's Pioneers: First Women Filmmakers box set, released last month.

Der Stern von Bethlehem was only her third film then (following Amor und das standhafte Liebespaar) both of which were produced by the Institute for Cultural Research in Berlin.(3) Whilst the Institute Around the same time she began to work for advertising exec Julius Pinschewer and it's thanks to this partnership that we have her oldest surviving work Das Geheimnis der Marquise (The Marquise’s Secret, 1921/2).(4) The film tells of a woman who woos her lover thanks to her skin which is "as white as snow". When the Marquis begs to know which god gave her such radiance she tells him it was all down to her Nivea cream.

Whilst the plot and dialogue are hardly extraordinary it's an interesting reference point. For one thing Reiniger's art and creativity is plain to see. In particular the moment when she is applying her cream and her face appears in the mirror opposite is especially striking. It's also notable that the figures here are white on a black background, rather than the dark figures in the foreground that came to typify Reiniger's style.

Interpolating between Marquise and Cinderella gives us a fair idea of what might have been in Der Stern von Bethlehem. It's unlikely to have been as long as the 1956 film and the background would probably have been plain, rather than the striking, multi-planed backgrounds of the latter work.(5) The style may have been slightly different from all three films.

Reiniger and her husband and life-long collaborator Carl Koch eventually fled Nazi Germany and for many years moved from place to place including Egypt, Greece and Italy. Eventually they had to return home and were pressed into making work for the Nazis. After the war the couple moved to London where they enjoyed their most productive period, creating 22 films in just ten years between 1949 and 1958. Many of these films were based on German fairy tales including a remake of Cinderella so the 1956 remake was something of an exception.

Sadly, it seems likely we'll never get to see the original, but the 1956 version an be viewed on the Gospel Film Archive's Christmas Collection DVD, on YouTube, or on this DVD/Bluray release of  The Adventures of Prince Achmed which also includes her 1974 film The Lost Son based on the parable of Jesus.(6) If you would like to find out more about Lotte Reiniger there are a range of good podcasts or you could have a read of Whitney Grace's new book "Lotte Reiniger: Pioneer of Film Animation".

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1 - Kenneth Clouse Collection, Hugh M. Hefner Moving Image Archive, University of Southern California School of Cinematic Arts. Available online - http://uschefnerarchive.com/project/lotte-reiniger-recording/
2 - Kramer, Fritzi (2018). Cinderella (1922) A Silent Film Review March 18, at Movies Silently - http://moviessilently.com/2018/03/18/cinderella-1922-a-silent-film-review/
3 - Guerin, Frances and Mebold, Anke (2013) "Lotte Reiniger." In Jane Gaines, Radha Vatsal, and Monica Dall’Asta, eds. Women Film Pioneers Project. Center for Digital Research and Scholarship. New York, NY: Columbia University Libraries, Web. July 6, 2016 https://wfpp.cdrs.columbia.edu/pioneer/lotte-reiniger/
4 - ibid
5 - Seemingly it was Reiniger, not Walt Disney, who invented the multi-planed camera, though he developed the design and patented it. Indeed, quite a lot of Reiniger's leagcy appears to have been consolidated into the Disney myth. Snow White (1937) is often credited as the first feature-length animated film, but of course this appeared a full eleven years after Prince Achmed which at between 66 and 81 minutes certainly qualifies as being feature length.
6 - The BFI have posted an excerpt of the film on YouTube and it's clear that this version of the film contains a male narration track which also features some singing in contrast to the voice of Barbara Ruick who provides the narration on the Cathedral Films version released by Gospel Films.

The Prince of Egypt (1998)

It's fair to say that when DreamWorks' Jeffrey Katzenberg began dreaming up his new studio with his partners David Geffen and Steven Spielberg he would probably have been shocked to know his studio would soon become a byword for popular but unremarkable kids' films. Katzenberg already had a prominent role at Disney doing just that, but a combination of internal politics, his frustration at getting overlooked for promotion and his desire to see animation reach greater heights lead him to launch first the DreamWorks studio with Geffen and Spielberg and then to head up its animation wing.

"I didn't want us to tell fairy tales" Katzenberg explained at the time, "I wanted us to pick an interesting, dramatic, epic...embracing all the techniques of animation"¹ It was an artistic vision that Katzenberg's team on The Prince of Egypt really bought into. As Nicola LaPorte wrote in her book charting the birth of DreamWorks "for visual inspiration, the artists had studied the painterly visuals of David Lean's Lawrence of Arabia, nineteenth-century illustrator Gustave Dor&eacute's Bible woodcuts and Monet".² 

As if to underline the point Thomasine Lewis was commissioned to produce a "Movie Scrapbook" for the film which devoted a two page spread just to explain the film's emotional beat board and explaining how the "selection of colours for each scene was influenced by the emotional tone of that scene". "At the movie's darkest point, when Ramsees' son is killed, the film became monochromatic".³ I wouldn't claim to be an expert in the field of 'books written to tie-in to animated movies', but I can't think of many that would even think of going behind the scenes, let alone go into them in such detail.

The result of all this thought, care, love, referencing and attention to detail is a stunning visual experience. Created at a time when traditional, hand-drawn, animation was still strong, but CGI was finally getting to the stage where it could have an impact, the film blends the two techniques to great effect. It's as if hand-drawn knew it no longer quite had the dominance of its past and CGI had not yet got too big for its boots and so was still eager to serve.

Indeed despite voices being provided by household names such as Val Kilmer (Moses), Ralph Fiennes (Ramsees) and Michelle Pfeiffer (Tzipporah), the real stars are the incredible backdrops. Richie Chavez's sweeping deserts and Darek Gogol's towering architecture make Prince of Egypt seem bigger and more splendid even than films such as DeMille's Ten Commandments, Lean's Lawrence of Arabia and Wyler's Ben Hur; all of which are given notable tributes as the film progresses. As the Israelites prepare to leave Egypt 75 minutes in, the film's catchiest song - "There Will be Miracles" - strikes up a reprise. The accompanying images, revealing the extent of destruction wrought on this once great kingdom, flick by. Each "scene" lasts only a few seconds but many are so immense in scope that no live action filmmaker would dare to attempt them. In one sixty second section alone there are thirteen shots, many of previously magnificent structures now brought low. The cost of producing the sets for just one of these shots with live action - let alone all of them - would be impossible to justify for the brief few seconds for which they flicker across the screen.

Gogol's work is particularly notable for the way his dominating architecture is so interconnected with the Egyptian psyche. The Egyptian's all encompassing self-belief reflected in stone and marble, physically towering over the slaves building it, as if as an expression of their masters' systematic dominance. At times both Ramsees and his father Seti unknowingly match the shapes and poses of the art that both surrounds and honours them (see above). All of which forms a startlingly contrast with Chavez's more expressionistic mountains and deserts.

Yet the most celebrated sequence in the film takes place inside, as Moses' world begins to unravel with the sudden revelation that he is a Hebrew saved from the very man he had come to call father. The moving hieroglyphics scene is repeated in Prince of Egypt's prequel Joseph King of Dreams but it is not a patch on the original. Here, there's a combination of drama, inventiveness and technical mastery as the story hurries from one surface to another, simultaneously providing an objective account of the events that happened in the past alongside a subjective account of what Moses is feeling at that very moment. And then the the two threads merge as Seti coincidentally appears at Moses' side to offer an unconvincing justification which morphs into Hitchcockian strings and the camera fading to black.

What is also impressive is the way the "camera" thinks like a real camera, occasionally leaving part of the shot out of focus, or placing certain objects or characters on the edge of the frame. There are zooms and shifts in the depth of focus all of which make the images feel like they are more real than they actually are. The burning bush is first observed by the shadows and flickers it casts upon the cave wall and only then do we get the slow pan right to reveal the thing itself.

Indeed what's strange is that the weakest part of the visuals is the part that the team seemed most excited about at the time - the special effects. The burning bush, for example, becomes less interesting once it is actually appear in shot. The attempt to make the parting of the Red Sea extra dramatic results in it being over-the-top, a little too showy; likewise the pillar of fire. The plagues are a bit of a mix also. Generally they are carried out effectively - the use of fast cuts and short shots adds to the impression of terror - and generally the Angel of Death scene is eerily unnerving, but not dissimilarly the odd moment feels over fussy.

But that's a minor criticism, even less so when you consider how badly much CGI from the era has aged. Which is just as well as The Prince of Egypt does rely on its visuals to carry a lot of the plot and themes, from the way the camera moves through the mists upto the giant carved face of Pharaoh at the start, through to the various montages that accompany the musical numbers. Indeed, due to the film's relatively short running time (88 minutes, compared to 150 minutes for Exodus: Gods and Kings and 220 minutes for The Ten Commandments) these montages carry considerable weight, making the film feel like less of a musical than most of Disney's output (though more, obviously, than the majority of Moses films).

The film breaks with The Ten Commandments in other significant ways too, particularly in its portrayal of the two princes. Whilst both films contrast Moses with his 'brother' Ramsees, their characters are very different. In DeMille's film, even as an Egyptian, Moses is upright and honourable, whereas his brother is proud, arrogant and scheming. Here however, whilst both brothers are prone to bouts of teenage irresponsibility, Ramsees' problem is his worry and self doubt. As heir to the throne, his father repeatedly reminds him that he is a link in a chain going back centuries. Ramsees is weighed down by his fear of being the Pharaoh who lets his ancestors down and sees Egypt slide into ruin. It's a bitter irony that it's this fear of failure that leads him down the very path he is so desperate to avoid.

In contrast, Moses is the carefree playboy, getting his brother into trouble. When he tells Ramsees that is problem is that he "care(s) too much" his brother counters "your problem is that you don't care at all". It's not that Moses is callous - life simply hasn't exposed him to suffering. However things change for him when, in his desire to be the centre of attention, he humiliates the women who will eventually become his future wife. He laughs uproariously, but then he notices the effect his loutish behaviour has had on his victim and he's struck by a sudden pang of guilt. Moses is a hedonistic playboy with a heart. His killing of the Egyptian (above) is an accident - again the result of him witnessing a kind of suffering with which he is totally unfamiliar.⁵ As he later reflects "I did not see because I did not wish to see".

Given the degree of personal transformation Moses undergoes after his encounters with Tzipporah and Miriam, it's perhaps no wonder that the Bible's own moment of Moses' conversion is rather truncated. God commissions him and then gets angry with him for failing to grasp the point is what ends up being a few seconds. Pretty quickly, then, Moses is back in Egypt warning his much-missed brother, outsmarting lightly-entertaining priests, dispatching plagues and leading his people to freedom. The sea parts and the people go through, taking a smattering of Egyptians with them, and the film ends with Moses standing above a huge crowd nursing a couple of stone tablets. It perhaps feels a little rushed, yet, like so many of the shots that have preceded it, it is nonetheless an indelibly majestic image.

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1 - Katzenberg from Making of documentary on DVD.
2 - "The Men Who Would Be King: An Almost Epic Tale of Moguls, Movies, and a Company Called DreamWorks.", Nicole LaPorte p.116
3 - Thomasine Lewis, "The Prince of Egypt: The Movie Scrapbook - An in-depth look behind the scenes" pgs 32-33
4 - As my 7 year old son put it "you don't have to get so angry".
5 - Perhaps it's just the way my DVD player works but it you watch this in slow motion the falling Egyptian goes up instead of down, allowing the "fall" to take longer. Again the contrast of the shots from below and the overhead shot from above is particularly effective.

Joseph, King of Dreams (2000)

Back in 1998, The Prince of Egypt was a surprise hit, not only turning in a profit, but launching a whole new animated studio to challenge the dominance of Disney. Hardly surprising, then, that two years later Dreamworks sought to cash in on their successful début by adding another film in the series, Joseph, King of Dreams.

At the time the term "prequel" was on the ascendency - Star Wars: The Phantom Menance was released just a year earlier. The fledging studio must have considered it made good sense. Having escaped from Egypt the story of the former Hebrew slaves is far less suitable for a children's film - 40 years in the desert lacks dramatic promise and Joshua's conquest of Canaan could hardly be classified as kiddie friendly. The Joseph story however was not only more suitable, but allowed the studio to rework some of what made the original film succeed, with the promise of more moving hieroglyphics and soaring, dramatic architecture.

Sadly, it was an unmitigated disaster. Joseph falls well short of both the quality and the entertainment of its predecessor. Furthermore, far from offering an additional, tidy, return, the film was released straight to video - still the only Dreamworks film to carry that particular stigma.

There are three main reasons why Joseph fails. Firstly, as if anticipating a lesser return, Dreamworks clearly cut corners. Whilst both Ben Affleck and Mark Hamill are relatively big names, the rest of the cast was largely unknown. In comparison Prince of Egypt boasted at least ten major stars. And whilst much of the animation is of a similar, if not better, standard, one or two of the dreams are rendered so poorly that they cast a shadow over the rest of the film. History has not been kind to turn of the century CGI, but even at the time Pharaoh's cows would give anyone nightmares. Corner cutting such as this isn't necessarily that obvious, but it often has the effect of permeating through a whole film, leaving it flat without any one thing clearly being out of place.

Ironically, the film's second major problem derives from those very aspects of Prince of Egypt which won it such acclaim. Again we have scenes of wall paintings coming to life and these are complemented nicely by some excellent early dream sequences. The problem is that these aspects were so striking and notable in the original movie that, here, they just feel derivative and unoriginal. There's a reason most magicians don't do their tricks more than once to the same audience: it's easier to reproduce a really good trick than it is to reproduce the experience of seeing it for the first time.

Perhaps the weakest aspect of the film, though, is the music. I read a quote recently that attributed 70% of film to the music. Whilst the occasional song in Prince of Egypt is a little mawkish, generally the music is pretty strong - the opening scenes in particular. Here almost all of the songs are dreary, forgettable, sub-par pop ballads, performed with very little heart or invention. It drags the film down again and again and leaves it bereft of soaring high points.

Which isn't too say it's all bad. Most of the animation is very good: indeed, one or two of the pieces of it are stunning. The Van Gogh inspired sequences with the sunflowers are particularly impressive. The characterisation is also fairly strong. Joseph's (voiced by Ben Affleck's) transition from spoilt brat to mature and forgiving man is well worked, relying on both a process and a epiphany or sorts.

It's also good to see an animated family film that doesn't have to resort to cute animals or fart jokes. Whilst Joseph has it's faults, there's never a moment that could have been improved by the simple addition of a cat with a quirky sense of humour. And if there is, perhaps, one too many montage it's almost forgiveable given the sleek efficiency with which they are executed. The opening song - miracle child is a particularly good example.

So whilst King of Dreams is no match for Prince of Egypt, it's a lot better than some of the films that Dreamworks have turned out subsequently. Ultimately, though, it's biggest problem is that it leaves you wishing you had watched the Moses film instead.

Testament: Ruth

I recently came to the realisation that Ruth is one of my favourite books of the Hebrew Bible. It's fine reading about kings and prophets, mighty leaders and spiritual giants. Inspiring even. But, as is no doubt clear, I am not such a person and the chances are that you aren't either. For those of us lesser mortals, Ruth is our kinswoman. It's true she ultimately became the great grandmother of Israel's most famous king, but, at the same time, it's unlikely that she lived to know it.

What I find inspiring about Ruth is that she is so ordinary. She didn't seem to aspire to greatness, indeed I doubt she would have been able to conceivable of any way in which she might still be talked about 3000 years later, and her achievements must have seemed modest. And yet three generations later her loyalty, faithfulness and love have had huge implications.

The second thing that draws me to Ruth is the way she makes the right choices in the toughest of circumstances. Her story is told against a backdrop of famine grief and broken dreams. All she has left is her mother-in-law, and, watching this yesterday (Mother's Day in the UK), I was struck by what a fantastic example this is of how to honour one's mothers or strive for the best for one's (adult) child.

At the same time there is a huge cultural gap between the story of Ruth and today, which both the text and Testament's adaptation of it highlight without losing the story's relevance for all cultures. It's a culture of where the thought can cross your mind of remarrying in order to have another son to marry your widowed daughter-in-law. It's a world of sealing contracts by taking off your sandal, gleaning etiquette and making sexual advances by uncovering the other person's feet.

Other versions of this story never really capture the essence of this other world, but this film does it admirably. A key factor here is the choice of medium. The 3D puppets that the animators use lend the film a sense of nostalgia and tradition. Furthermore using an animated format from another culture, albeit a different culture from the one in which the story is set, heightens the feeling of otherness. At the same time the skill of the animators make Ruth an incredibly appealing figure capturing her vulnerability without making her seem a victim.

The film's lighting and use of colour also heighten the power of the story. The early scenes of famine and the death of Naomi and Ruth's husbands are dark and at times fairly mono-chromatic, which contrasts with Ruth's brilliant blue robe. There are also a couple of other visual links to the Virgin Mary – another woman who gives birth to a "royal" son in Bethlehem. But the film as a whole makes use of a broad colour palate, often quite dramatically, whilst still maintaining that sense of the past, which is so critical even in the text's original context.

It's also to the film's credit that it portrays Naomi as a little cranky early on. Again it's easy to portray Naomi as a helpless victim, but giving her this personality not only reflects the bitterness of her recent experience, but also gives her a sense of fight and strength of character. It also suggests that Ruth's actions not only provide for her mother-in-law, but draw Naomi out of her grief and bitterness.

Whilst Ruth, through no fault of its own, lacks the dramatic source material of other films in the Testament series, it's poignant character study and visual form make it possibly the best entry in the nine-film series, giving a sense of what an ordinary life can look like when lived by the most unordinary values.

Friends and Heroes Series 2 and 3

Back in 2007 I spent quite a bit of time talking about the Friends and Heroes series that was being broadcast on BBC2. Four years on I've finally had a chance to see a handful of episodes of series 2 and 3.

The original series was set in Alexandria and followed the adventures of Macky and Portia (pictured above). Macky is a Jewish Christian who by chance befriends Portia, the daughter of Alexandria's Roman governor Tiberius. Series 2 covers a new phase in Tiberius' career. He is now the general in charge of the siege of Jerusalem in AD 70 and has taken Portia with him. Macky on the other hand has travelled to the holy city to attempt to find the father of Leah and Rebecca from series 1. As with that series Portia and Macky are caught on opposite sides of the conflict as Macky fights with the rebels stuck in Jerusalem.

On the basis of the two episodes from this series that I've had a chance to see it's difficult to compare this series to the original. That said the animation quality is broadly the same, and the style of the programmes seem to be more or less the same. However, the stories don't seem to carry the momentum of the previous series, though that is an inevitable consequence of watching them out of the context of the series as a whole.

Series 3 brings things to a head as Portia and Macky find themselves in Rome. Macky has connected with the Roman underground church and the prominent Roman citizen, and Christian, Antonius. The series comes to a head with the Roman senate trying to execute Antonius whilst Macky and his new friends seek to free him.

The final few episodes of this series certainly carry the kind of plot tension that made the first series so addictive. In particular the last episode is surprisingly absorbing as Macky attempts to save not only Antonius but a large collection of early Christian writings.

The weak point of the first series was the 3D animated sections of the programme which portrayed the biblical episodes. Four years ago these sections were clearly inferior to the very best work in the medium, but not to the extent that it was a significant weakness in the series as a whole. Alas today, with the advances that have been seen over recent years, the 3D sections do look very dated now, to the detriment of the rest of the programme.

Yet overall the series still exhibits much of what made it appeal to me back in 2007. The way the story bridges the gap between the biblical narratives from the first century and today's culture is still a great way of making the biblical history accessible to younger children. The pacing and 2D animation are still very good. And even though its these final episodes which culminate in the stories of death and resurrection of Jesus, it avoids being preachy whilst still managing to explore difficult issues and challenge its young audience to a better way of living.

Testament: David and Saul

Give the average quiz show host the category "The Bible" and ask them to complete the following - David and          - and you'd get the same answer every time. Indeed the working title for Scott Derickson's proposed film about events from the books of Samuel even omits David's name, opting simply for Goliath.

The giant everyone loves to hate does feature in Testament's David and Saul, but he's a relatively minor figure. Even David is not the film's greatest concern. The film might even have been called Saul and David - it's Israel's first king that is the leading character in this production, rather than his more famous successor.

I remember very little of David and Saul from my first viewing roughly eight years ago. It certainly didn't make much of an impression. This time around however it was quite different. Eight years on it seems like a complex and striking examination of a man fighting his demons. Whether or not "demons" should be taken literally perhaps accounts for the difference in my reactions to my two viewings of this film. Then I was open to the idea that when the Bible said demons it may, on occasion, simply be talking about something like epilepsy. Now I would tend to assume some form of health issue was what was being mentioned even if I remain open to the possibility that occasionally something supernatural might be responsible.

That the film is primarily about what is going on in Saul's head is apparent from the opening scene. Instead of seeing David in the fields chasing lambs, or wistfully playing his harp in the countryside, we start with Saul raving in his throne room. The location shot tells us that it's night, and it slowly pans up a dark rocky outcrop before reaching a foreboding prison-like castle at the top. The throne room itself is also dimly lit and sinister music accompanies Saul's deep seated paranoia. At the mention of Samuel's name there's a flash back to the last meeting between the two, king and prophet.

Samuel himself is a shadowy figure in this film. Dressed in a dark, hooded, robe he only appears in flashbacks, voices in Saul's head and as an ghostly apparition at the witches cave in Endor. Even Samuel's anointing of David is made highly ambiguous - David certainly doesn't realise he has been appointed king.

By placing Samuel's confrontation of Saul in the midst of this scene of his madness manifesting himself, there's an implication that it is this incident which is the cause of Saul's condition, be it mental illness or spiritual affliction. It's never entirely clear which way the filmmakers understand it. Certainly the characters in the film believe it's the latter, as is consistent with their world-view but the content of the film itself - aside from the narrator's opening mention of Saul being "seized by an evil spirit" - makes a fairly strong case the other way.

It's not until after this scene that David makes an appearance, killing a bear, playing for the king, being outraged by his countrymen's cowardice in the face of Goliath and then volunteering to slay the Philistine giant. But even as Goliath is hitting the floor, Saul is haunted by Samuel's voice in his head: "Another man, a better man than you...". This leads into a montage of David's victories, his adoration at the hands of the crowd and the evident love Saul's children have for him. Each moment is accompanied by Samuel's same words, "Another man, a better man than you...". One particularly enjoyable visual moment here is a pan across a stone relief depicting David's victories.

David continues to play to soothe Saul's turmoil and Saul attempts to kill him. David flees and Saul hunts him down. Whilst in his pursuit Saul hears of Samuel's death, hears the prophet's voice "we shall never meet again" and decides to outlaw consulting with the dead. The next scene is of David sneaking into Saul's camp and stealing his spear.

The final part of the film deals with Saul's death. His armies face the numerically superior Philistines and being unable to hear God's voice he seeks out the witch of Endor. Samuel's ghost appears - it's a highly ambiguous portrayal, Samuel's form is transparent and shrouded in green mist. The battle goes on and Saul and Jonathan die. The camera lingers on their dead bodies still upright and greyed out as if they are statues already yesterday's men being commemorated.

This is the true end of the film. There is a final scene but it's an epilogue accompanied only by the narrator's voice. David is crowned in the bright sun. It's pretty much the sun has been seen in the film. The occasional scene has been shot during the day, but the majority of it is portrayed at night, and dark colours dominate the film, particularly where Saul is concerned. The visuals throughout are striking actually. It would be easy to write off David and Saul as a mere cartoon, particularly as it lacks the expressionism of other films in the series, but the animation is far superior to most hand-drawn films: a true work of art. The use of colour is very strong, particularly the contrast between Saul and David, but also the evocative backgrounds, doing for this film what the scenery in so many westerns does for them.

David and Saul may not be a conventional take on the film, but it's all the better for it. Instead of a typical story of the underdog, it's a complex examination of the descent into darkness - mental or spiritual - of Israel's first king, and certainly the finest exploration of Saul that I have seen.

Testament: Moses

It took Cecil B DeMille nearly four hours to tell his version of the Moses story - even longer if you count the ten minute theatrical trailer. So it's interesting to see someone else tell the story in just half an hour. Whilst this film ends a good deal of time before the giving of the Ten Commandments, it still manages to tell the story of the first fifteen chapters of Exodus very effectively in such a short time frame. Of course elements are missed out. Like many Moses films not all of the ten plagues are shown, and other common omissions, such as God trying to kill Moses on the road back to Egypt, are also excluded. Running time is also cut back by telling the story of Moses' birth and childhood in a flashback along with an account of Moses murdering an Egyptian. The film opens with Aaron aiding Moses' escape from Egyptian soldiers.

Like most of the Testament series the animation uses a more expressive style, marking it as much for adults as for children. Here the characters all have a lithe, elongated shape which lends them a sense of elegance - fitting for what is essentially a battle of wills between a Pharaoh, a former prince and the sovereign God. The animators also use their medium to great effect. Aside from the flashback, set against a deep red sky, there is also a literally red Red Sea. There's also a notable moment when the tenth plague is shot from the point of view of the Angel of Death, and the closing zoom out shot is cleverly executed.

Two years after this film the more well known animated version of this film hit the silver screen. The Prince of Egypt had a much larger budget, but seems to have drawn at least some inspiration from the earlier film. Aside from the expressive use of animation, the opening scenes emphasising the rivalry between Moses and the Pharaoh, in this case Menephtah (son of Ramsees II). They even compete in chariot races.

But this is one of the few Moses films to show Aaron speaking for Moses, even if Moses does take over in the end. It also uses the correct initial request of Moses and Aaron - to be allowed to go to worship in the desert. Such fidelity to the original text is matched by the subtle ways the film introduces elements of historical context into the background. For example, the blooding of the Nile takes place during a religious festival celebrating the God of the Nile, and there's also a mention of a frog god who is quite literally toppled by a plague of his amphibian minions. The script also reminds us that Pharaoh himself was viewed as a god, and that ultimately it is he, rather than the idols that adorn his palace, which is Yahweh's primary target.

Overall, this is one of the strongest entries in the Testament series, with fine voice work from Martin Jarvis as Moses and Simon Callow as Menephtah, but it's the vivid illustration which really catches the eye and gives real significance and texture to this most critical of Old Testament stories.

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This is one of a series of reviews of the films from the series Testament: The Bible in Animation. The entire nine-film series has recently been re-released on DVD by the Bible Society.

The Kingdom of Heaven

Not the Ridley Scott crusades epic, but an episode from the series The Animated Stories from the New Testament which I managed to pick one up cheaply from "The Works" at Christmas. The series has also recently appeared in my local Christian bookshop. Whilst my daughter has watched this entry a couple of times now, yesterday was the first chance I'd had to sit down and watch it with her.

The Kingdom of Heaven, directed by The Fox and the Hound's Richard Rich, is the 8th entry in the 24 part series and deals with Jesus' teaching on the Kingdom from Matthew 13. Thus we get enacted versions of the parables of the Wheat and the Weeds, the Merchant and the Pearl, and the 10 "Maidens" (Matt 25) as well as an explanation of the Parable of the Sower. This main section of the film is introduced and concluded by the same scene showing the return of of a glowing, Ready-Brek, Jesus, based on Matthew 25.

The most obvious criticism of this film, and I presume the series in general, is the filmmakers decision to use the King James Version of the Bible whenever Jesus speaks. This made it very difficult for my 4 year old to understand even the gist of what he was saying - despite the fact that she occasionally enjoys stories read straight from an adult Bible. To animate these stories, particularly using playful and appealingly animated characters, but to make the words they are saying (and the points of these parables) utterly impenetrable, seems rather foolhardy. I know that there are Christians who hold the King James version in very high regard indeed, but surely this is a case where, even for them, pragmatism should have triumphed idealism. That said, given the General Synod of the Church of England's failure to do the same in its recent vote on women bishops, perhaps it's me who is being too idealistic.

Whilst the animation is nothing special, it's competent enough and is reasonably in keeping with various other TV cartoons, though as it was made in 1991 it obviously predates CGI. There's a nice dissolve from the future return of Jesus introduction to the historical Jesus teaching to a largish crowd, but otherwise nothing too spectacular. The cartoon doesn't introduce wacky characters or gimmicks to get the story across, although it does personalise some of the crowd members and people in the parables.

The stories themselves are told in a reasonably straightforward fashion, but with the occasional obvious omission. Take for example the Wheat and the Tares. We're told that the weeds are thrown into fire, but just as someone is about to explain this part of the story they are conveniently interrupted.

Sometimes, however, telling the stories in such a straightforward fashion means that the viewer is no more informed than they were before, perhaps even more confused. Take for example the story of the 10 virgins. The parable is contextualised a bit, we meet the groom and 3 of the girls, but its far from clear why what happens to the 5 girls needed to. In reading the story we are aware of the strange cultural gap separating us from the parable's original context. But visualising it and drawing us into the characters creates more problems than it solves. The bridegroom is left turning away the 5 girls simply because they don't have enough light. They don't offer an explanation for their lateness / lack of light. He doesn't suggest they move a few feet closer so he can see their faces. The result is that the Jesus figure comes across as inflexible and mean. We're left thinking poorly of him, not the ill-prepared women.

That said, such visualisation can work in a positive way too. The Parable of the Merchant and the Pearl - told in a song, rather than in prose - really made me wonder what was it about the pearl that made the merchant sell up. There's a real contrast here with the man who discovers buried treasure. He makes a risky but sound investment. Who wouldn't have acted likewise? The merchant, on the other hand, presumably knew the comparative value of the various items, so unless the pearl's seller has undercharged him (which is certainly not stated or implied in the text) then he stands to gain very little, if anything, on a purely material level. The value the merchant assigns to the pearl is far higher than that of the majority. Perhaps it's irrationality, perhaps it's just an attachement that surpasses his physical needs, but whatever the explanation, he finds the pearl / the kingdom utterly compelling.

So whilst the decision to use the KJV cripples the series pretty severely, the film does produce a few new ways of looking at familiar gospel stories which is, of itself, something of great worth.

Testament: The Bible in Animation Finally Comes to DVD

Over the years I've made various posts about the short series of Hebrew Bible films Testament: The Bible in Animation. Whilst these short films have been available on Region 1 DVD for a while, potential purchases have had to buy them individually, putting pressure on shelves as well as pockets.

So I was really pleased to discover that the Bible Society has now made them all available on a 2 DVD box set. I can't seem to find out whether the set is region 2 or region 0, but hopefully I'll find that out fairly soon. The Bible Society never do these things by halves, so in addition to the nine films, there are also resource packs to download for teachers and church groups. The DVDs have subtitles, but seemingly no other extras.

The 9 titles are as follows (with links to my reviews)

* Episode 1: Creation and Flood (25 mins)
* Episode 2: Abraham (25 mins) - pictured
* Episode 3: Moses (27 mins)
* Episode 4: Jonah (26 mins)
* Episode 5: Ruth (25 mins)
* Episode 6: Elijah (27 mins)
* Episode 7: Joseph (26 mins)
* Episode 8: David and Saul (27 mins)
* Episode 9: Daniel (24 mins)

For those not familiar with the series, it was made by the same team who went on to create The Miracle Maker, and like that film they use a variety of different animated techniques across the series - although they stick to one technique per episode. Whilst the films certainly are suitable for children, they have a fairly grown up take on things - don't think for a minute that they are just for the kids - and the animated medium used is itself often very expressionistic.

Like any series some are better than others, though that's due in part to individual preferences about animation styles, but overall this is a great series,with certain instalments offering the best film interpretation yet of their particular story.

Jonah: A Veggie Tales Movie

Through the Bible in Five and a Half Years has got as far as Jonah now, so I thought it was time for a long overdue review of 2002's Jonah: A Veggie Tales Movie. Incidentally, I'm still deciding whether or not to use a clip from this film, but I think I will probably show a different short film version which I'm linking to here so I can find it easily in future.

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For some reason Jonah has always been a popular children's story (despite being about a man-eating fish), and as a result there have been various cartoon versions over the years including an entry in the Testament: The Bible in Animation series.Yet, it's one that's been largely avoided by filmmakers. In the early days the technical challenges of the pivotal scene were far beyond the film's likely profitability. More recently, however, I suspect it's been the length of the story that has put off potential adapters. At just 4 short chapters there's not a huge amount to go on (although the majority of Hollywood blockbusters could have their plots scribed on the back of a postage stamp, so that's hardly critical).

Jonah circumnavigates this problem by telling Jonah's tale as a story within a story. The biblical tale is framed by a modern day story of a group en route to a gig, who get lost when their car breaks down. They stumble into a restaurant and meet three pirates who observing the animosity amongst the group, decide to tell them the story as a means to getting them to resolve their differences.

The story is presented as an account of events that actually happened to the pirates, but chronologically this wouldn't work at all, particularly when you consider that these pirates are not humans but harvested vegetables. So the link to the material is slightly detached: there's something vaguely reminiscent of The Wizard of Oz here in the way that the people in the framing device are inextricably linked to those in the story, but also somewhat detached.

All of which forms a rather interesting interpretative context in which to place the book of Jonah. Many scholars consider the book to be a kind of parable rather than an account of actual historical events, and so presenting the tale of Jonah as a story within a story fits this dynamic. Furthermore, since the book of Kings briefly mentions the prophet Jonah, there is that kind of link between him and the parable's anti-hero.

One of the things the film gets right is its portrayal of Jonah as an absurd figure. True to the biblical text Jonah is grumpy and proud, and his cartoonish characterisation fits the spirit of the original's portrayal rather well. It also includes the often overlooked final chapter of the book, and grasps that this is this, rather than the fishier elements of the story, that forms the book's interpretative key.

The film does tweak some of the other details however: Nineveh's primary sin is slapping each other with fish, which rather leaves the story run stranded in shallow waters; Jonah manages to get the king's attention when he is arrested because of his pirate friends; and his message grabs the attention of the fish-venerating Ninevites sole-ly because he happens to refer to his time inside the big fish. I'm curious to know whether that final point reflects an older tradition in any way, or some kind of historical knowledge. If so I've not yet encountered it in commentaries I've read.The biggest set piece in the story is obviously Jonah getting swallowed by the big fish. The book devotes a whole chapter to Jonah's prayer, which, from a dramatic point of view, works in the same way as a musical's biggest song and dance number. What's more the whole incident is shrouded in supernatural events (not only the fish but the storm, Jonah being highlighted by the casting of lots and the subsequent calming of the storm when his is ejected overboard).

The film, also gives plenty of attention to this incident, saving its most ambitious CGI for what is it's longest scene (the modern day equivalent of a miracle?). And once Jonah has been swallowed up, his prayer is indeed replaced with the film's biggest song and dance number - a black gospel number performed by a choir of singing vegetable angels. All of which is possible because Jonah has been swallowed by a whale rather than a big fish. I suspect that the Hebrew mind would have classified whales along with fish rather than with mammals, so this distinction is rather minor. What is interesting is that in the film's closing number - a summary of the story and its message - Jonah's story is illustrated using a fish. So the film backs both theories, deftly representing the ancient classifications.

The one character I've not yet discussed is Jonah's eternally optimistic sidekick, Khalil, a half worm, half caterpillar business man worm-pillar - the 'Donkey' to Jonah's Shrek, if you like. But his role gains far greater prominence in the books final act, for it is he who becomes the worm who eats the plant Jonah is using for shade. When Jonah confronts him Khalil then utters the words that God speaks at the end of the book.

What this highlights is the direct absence of God in the film. God speaks directly four times in the book, at the start, after the fish has spat Jonah out, when the Ninevites repent, and when the plant dies. Here we never hear him speak, though we witness Jonah hearing God when he prays at the beginning of the story, the middle too occurrences are skipped over, and at the end it is Khalil that speaks for God. This secularises the text somewhat. God is held at a distance so that even the miraculous elements of the story could be down to coincidence. It's not a major problem, but it is yet another example of VeggieTales sanitising the text.

Visually the film is rather poor. It always feels like an extended episode of a TV show rather than anything cinematic and the colour scheme often clashes. There are bright blue backgrounds, but dull yellow foregrounds, shiny green vegetables, but a lot of dirty yellow and grimy clothes. The whale sports a particularly repulsive olive green and yellow look and even Jonah looks off colour for much of the film.

The songs are fairly good though, echoing various musicals from down the ages, and the soundtrack includes a nice nod to Jaws as the whale closes in on the barely floating prophet. And so what I'm left with is "Jonah was a prophet" going round and round in my head. I'm told that the Germans call this an 'ear worm', which in the context a film which uses a worm not only to act for, but also to speak for God is certainly an intriguing metaphor.

Even More on The Miracle Maker

Following on from last Monday's post on The Miracle Maker, I re-watched the final half hour with Nina over the course of the Easter holiday, and, once again, I noticed some new details that things I've missed previously.

I've talked before about the various issues surrounding the depiction of the table used at the Last Supper:

The initial decision facing the film-makers at this point is whether or not to mirror Leonardo's famous painting, as this is the definitive artistic image of the Last Supper. However, in most cases, where a Leonardo derived composition has been rejected, a more modern arrangement is taken with all the disciples around two or more sides of long tables. It's noticeable for example that Jesus films never show all the disciples eating at separate tables all within the same room, even though John's gospel happily accepts Jesus did not treat all his disciples equally (John 13:23-25). Almost without exception the disciples are pretty much treated equally. However, film-makers are also at pains to visually highlight the other-ness of Jesus, so, as far as I am aware, no film-maker has ever located the Last Supper on round table as per King Arthur - in fact Jesus is always seated centrally, even though that is only assumption based on traditional Christian Art and the assumptions drawn from our culture.

In light of these comment I'm surprised that I've not noticed the layout adopted by The Miracle Maker, whereby Jesus and his disciples sit down one side of a Leonardo Da Vinci style top table, but there are various other tables in the room where people like Cleopas and Mary Magdalene sit. IT's shown here before the disciples arrive.Such an arrangement deftly combines the oneness of Jesus's new community with his own uniqueness and importance, as well as bridging between traditional depictions of the Last Supper and Twenty First Century sensibilities. It's also interesting that, it's difficult to ascertain where exactly Jesus sits at the table. It would appear to be in the corner nearest the door, rather than in the middle.

Cleopas, Jairus and Tamar are also present in the Garden of Gethsemane. I noted last week the words that Jesus says to Cleopas and Jairus. This time it was the words that Jesus spoke to Tamar that caught my attention:

In my father's house there are so many rooms, I'm going to find a wonderful place for you. One day you will always be with me.

What struck me about this is that it's these words that Tamar repeats into the camera at the end of the film. That scene is the worst of the whole film, but the subtle exploration of the oral tradition around Jesus's words, and the way they are spread from one to another is certainly interesting.

Finally, I've often talked about how this film switched to 2D animation to indicate that the story is moving to a "state of mind" - flashbacks, parables, temptations, and so on. But what struck me for the first time is that the sighting of Jesus by Mary Magdalene by his tomb, and the majority of the other post-resurrection appearances, are shown in "factual" 3D. In other words the decision to use 3D here is very much a theological one: the resurrection is portrayed as an actual historical event rather than the non-literal, shared conciousness, of some other interpretations.

Further Reflections on Miracle Maker

We watched The Miracle Maker yesterday at our Palm Sunday church social, and even though it was perhaps the 5th or 6th time I have watched it, I was pleased to see a number of details that I hadn't noticed previously (see my review, scene guide, podcast or all my posts on this film). It did make it all the more disappointing that most of the adults present wrote it off as a kids film and went out for a chat instead, but it was a lovely sunny day so who can blame them?

The first thing I really noticed was the scene with Mary and Martha (and, in this case, the still alive, Lazarus). As with the gospel accounts, Mary sits and listens whilst Martha complains "Jesus don't you care that my sister has left me to do everything tell her to help me". But whereas the response recorded in the gospels rebukes Martha and exemplifies the behaviour of her sister, her Jesus solely focuses on Martha, saying to her "don't miss the one thing that matters for you". There's no mention of Mary choosing correctly. I'm not sure whether this reflects the film makers' desire not to draw attention to Mary, or whether they thought this lack of comparison with Martha's sister portrayed Jesus's actions as kinder, or whether it was something else entirely.

Of course the female character that we see following Jesus most closely is that of Tamar - Jairus's daughter - who gets raised from the dead about halfway through the film. Poignantly, however, the film follows this scene with the moment that Jesus hears that his cousin John the Baptist has been killed. The contrast between the joy of raising a child to life and the grief and fear of knowing his kin and forerunner has been killed, not to mention that between the person he was able to save from death and the person he wasn't, is nicely highlighted by the juxtaposition.Jairus ultimately becomes the unnamed follower of Jesus who is walking with Cleopas to Emmaus on the day of Jesus's resurrection. However, Jesus seemingly knows this in advance. When Jesus arrives in the Garden of Gethsemane the two of them are already present and ask Jesus to join with them so he can answer their questions (above). However, Jesus explains that he needs to go and pray but tells them "I will come and talk to you Cleopas. I promise I will come to you Jairus, very soon, and we will talk about many things".

After Gethsemane comes Jesus's trial and we're introduced to another figure from the Jewish establishment figure who the gospels suggest ultimately becomes one of Jesus's followers - Joseph of Arimathea. Initially Joseph is simply objecting to the unlawfulness of the trial, but when others there begin to turn on him, asking him if he too is a follower of Jesus, he goes quiet and admits he knows nothing. There's an abrupt cut to Peter who is likewise denying Jesus in the courtyard outside.

Once Jesus is condemned the film moves relatively quickly to his crucifixion. But whilst the film largely skips over Jesus's abuse at the hands of the various guards and soldiers, it does appear to show Herod pulling out a part of his beard. This is taken from Isaiah 50:6 ("I offered my back to those who beat me, my cheeks to those who pulled out my beard; I did not hide my face from mocking and spitting") which traditionally, has often been seen as a prediction of Jesus's suffering due to the other details it provides. Indeed even though there's no explicit mention of Jesus's beard being pulled out in the gospels, I believe that this interpretation was one of the reasons that depictions of Jesus began to give him a beard. From the various images that we have it wasn't until the 6th century that Jesus began to be shown with a beard.Of course the fact that Jesus was Jewish also suggests that it was likely he had a beard: the smooth faced paintings of the 4th-6th century were mainly attempts to reimagine Jesus in Roman culture. One of the things I like about this film is the way it puts things in their historical context. So this time aroundI noticed this little detail from the shot above, taken from the parable of the wise and foolish builders. Having sweated away digging foundations into the rock so he can build his house, the wise man finally gets to enter his house. But before he does so, he stops and touches something he's put on his doorpost. Whilst this could be a door bell, or even just an attractive feature, the safest bet is that this is a mezuzah a copy of the shema encased in a box and attached to the door post. This very Jewish image sets Jesus words in an interesting context, and highlights the way that Jesus is reinterpreting his Judaism around himself.

Another example of this is as the centurion at the foot of the cross witnesses Jesus's death. Instead of saying "surely this was was the Son of God" he says "surely this was was a son of god". It's been a long time since I studied NT Greek but I this is something of an alteration from how this passage is usually translated. Quite how you view such an alteration depends, I suppose, on how you interpret scripture. Some will, no doubt, be unhappy with this slight alteration from the actual words of the original. Personally though (assuming that there was an actual centurion who did indeed make such a proclamation), I think it's more realisitic that a roman soldier would have expressed himself in terms of his own pluralistic worldview, which by this point would have called the very much human Caesars sons of god.