David (2025)

It's been eight months since Angel Studios' animated family-friendly musical David (2025) was released in the USA, but next month it will finally open in the UK, with a seemingly decent selection of cinemas lined up to screen it. This is something that is becoming increasingly common for animated biblical children's films, following Noah's Ark: A Musical Adventure (Arca de Noé, Brazil) in 2024 and last year's The King of Kings (South Korea).

Opening titles

The film opens saying it's "Based on the story of David from 1 & 2 Samuel" and while the reason it doesn't mention the Davidic material in 1 Chronicles is probably just for the sake of brevity, it does also capture nicely the breadth of material the film covers, as the narrative in Chronicles begins just before the start of David's reign.

The other thing that is included in those opening titles is "'The Lord has sought for himself a man after his own heart.' 1 Samuel 13:14" and while the use of a specifically Protestant, American, Christian translation (the NASB) is clearly one that corresponds closely to the film's largest expected demographic, it's also a pertinent example of the film's wider appropriation of ancient Jewish/Hebrew narratives to create an American Christian story for the 21st century.[1]    

This verse is particularly notable because, as I pointed out in my last piece on House of David, it's one that is paraphrased by Paul/Luke in the New Testament (Acts 13:22) which gives it a greater significance. (The Book of Samuel also says David "showed utter disrespect for the Lord" (2 Sam 12:14), but that's not part of the story the film is seeking to convey). As with House of David, David is not only Jesus' ancestor and a man "after God's own heart" but a "type" (foreshadowing) for Jesus.

The boy who would be king

We meet David as a boy who is both an animal-loving shepherd (who has a deep connection with his flock) while also being tough and brave in fending off a lion, a story he relays in the Bible when trying to make a case for his suitability as a potential giant-slayer (1 Sam 17). He recovers in time to burst in on a visit to his parents' house by the prophet Samuel. Within minutes, David has been anointed a future king of Israel.

With the anointing oil still dripping from his hair, he is summoned to the palace of the existing king, Saul, who is caught in the depths of a depressive episode.[2] All the musicians in the nation have been called to provide some music to ease his troubles(as Saul had apparently found great comfort in it previously). David is eager to serve and, as he doesn't share his fellow musicians' fear of Saul's black mood, he finds himself alone in the throne room with his lyre.

Saul here is a man of massive stature – reminiscent of Orson Welles in David e Golia (1959) for those who have seen it – yet David not only tames him, but also begins cueing in all the other musicians, emboldening them in their now shared task.

This scene nicely sets up much of what is to unfold. Firstly, David's seeming lack of fear of this huge, angry man anticipates him facing the giant Goliath. Just as the other musicians here (and it is emphasised that it is "all" musicians) quiver in fear, so too will the entire army quake before the enormous Philistine. But it also cues up the way that much of the rest of the film will revolve around Saul's anger towards David and David's ability to rally people around him in the face of such a threat.

Connecting the threads

Unaware of his future, David returns home and chats with his mother, Nitzevet, a name known to us from the Jewish Talmud, but it's interesting that she wears a Mary-esque blue headdress, again reinforcing the typology that links David to Jesus. Not dissimilarly, she is portrayed as a nurturing mother who passes on to David important teaching, a little like Mary does to Jesus in later Christian tradition.

Rather than setting one of David’s many Psalms to music, the filmmakers wrote a new song “Tapestry”, in which Nitzevet sings to her son. The gist of the song is that when we focus on individual threads in a tapestry, we don't see how they connect in the overall picture, that "the creator has designed". 

While the song isn't based on a Psalm, it's interesting that a few recognisable lines from the Psalms are incorporated into the lyrics. A reference to the shepherd and the sheep seems like a nod to Psalm 23. "Lift your eyes above the hills" hints at Psalm 121. Perhaps most noticeable is the line from Psalm 139, "Like the way we work the loom, he knit you from inside the womb". This is, of course, the prooftext most-used by many Christians – and not just those of a politically conservative persuasion – to argue for a pro-life / anti-choice position regarding women’s reproductive rights. Of course, the mention of "knit" ties into the song's textile-based theme, but it also feels like a point is being made rather heavy-handedly.

From an aesthetic point of view, it's the film's most colourful and visually-pleasing scene. It's also noticeable that its theme is picked up again in musical form in one of the film's final pieces of music, when various melodies and lyrics from the songs that have appeared earlier in the film are woven together for a finale.

Goliath

It's always interesting in films about David to see which parts of the story are included, but almost all of them feature the fight with Goliath. Here it occurs relatively early on. One of the things the film does consistently is elevate David's bravery relative to the original text. Firstly, David not only strikes the lion in the opening scene, but risks life and limb charging head on into a collision with it. Then David is shown to be the bravest of all the musicians (as opposed to just being called specifically based on his reputation). 

So, of course, the Goliath he faces isn't just a 9'6" giant (or even a 6'6" one according to the earliest texts – see my post on that) but more than twice the size even of the towering Saul, who seems tiny by comparison. While the animation in the film is very good (particularly compared to the CGI in other faith-based Bible films) I really didn't like the design of the Philistines in general and the Arnie-inspired Goliath in particular.

Nevertheless, the scene doesn't disappoint and there's a great sequence which segues from a God-shot (just as Goliath is mocking the idea of him fighting Israel's god) into a shot of the sun which is then interrupted by the David's sling whipping across the screen with increasing frequency as he winds up that legendary shot.

And there's more

What particularly interests me as a scholar of the Bible on film is, given that this famous episode occurs roughly at the half-way point in the film, where does the script go after that?

David films tend to end in one of three places. Firstly, right after the victory over Goliath itself. Given that in the popular imagination David is known primarily for defeating Goliath, it's not only the climax of the most famous story about him, but also a huge dramatic high point. Indeed in most of the modernised, metaphorical, adaptations of the story – not least a league of sports films – the story ends just after the David-figure has gained victory over their respective Goliath-figure. Even David and Bathsheba (1951), which mainly focuses on the backsliding troubled ruler we encounter from the middle of 2 Samuel, ends up back at the Goliath scene, via a flashback to his famous victory from his younger days. 

Secondly, and perhaps more obviously, there is somewhere around the point of his death. Even if you have to edit some episodes out for brevity, this at least tells the story of his life. These films tend to enjoy the complexity of David's life, his "taking" of Bathsheba and the inter-family conflict that follows. Finally, some productions, particularly those where Saul is prominent, end somewhere around his death and David becoming king.

Given that David's "taking" of Bathsheba is arguably not age-appropriate for a kids film, David was always likely to take the third option and indeed it ends with its titular hero not only crowned king with the support of the people, but a sizeable and now confident army also acclaiming him. 

David's rise [spoilers]

Like most of this sub-group of David films, David's accession to the crown is less messy than it is in the Bible (where Saul's son Eshbaal is initially crowned king of the ten northern tribes, before he gets murdered). David's various marriages (and unconventional dowry payments) are left out. While Saul still throws a spear at David, the details of how Michal and Jonathan aid his escape are condensed. Likewise, the costly support of the priests of Nob is reduced to a fleeting visual reference; David only spares Saul's life once; and Saul never consults the Witch of Endor. Moreover, the time David spends fighting for, and then being rejected by, the Philistines is reduced to a plan where David intends to help Saul by pretending to fight for the Philistines, before turning to fight for Israel.

David's plan, though, never comes to fruition, because moments before the armies clash, David realises that the Amalekites have attacked Ziklag, where the families of he and his men are staying (1 Sam 30). This is an episode that most David films leave out to the extent that I had pretty much forgotten it even existed. Here, though, the film turns it into a finale. Here, David is not initially followed by any of his men, but relies on the families to help him oppose the Amalekites. As if to underline the point about David prefiguring Jesus even more heavily, the Amalekites capture him and literally fix him to a tree in a cruciform pose. But the wives and children rise to their feet, Spartacus-style, singing the line "I will not be afraid". Realising that they are actually outnumbered, the Amalekites turn and flee. 

While I found this scene (and the build-up to it) a little weak dramatically, and rather clichéd, I'm intrigued at its inclusion, particularly given that the proportion of children's films which end with human on human warfare is very low. Israel's army has already learnt this lesson, at least when confronted with the Philistines. Is the point here to present two forms of enemy, the more conventional army of the Philistines and the darker powers of the Amalekites (who only appear as black silhouettes and who appear to dress more unconventionally also)? Or is this making the point that the determination not to fear enemies is not just something for men, but for women and children too? I suppose it could even be making the point that while men might battle the flesh and blood enemies with weapons, that women and children can oppose the powers of darkness with words alone? Perhaps I'm reading in too much. 

David and The Prince of Egypt

However that scene is meant to be interpreted, David is crowned-but-not-actually-crowned afterwards (tabbarded?) and stands upon a rock high above the people, literally ending the film on a high. I can't help but be reminded of The Prince of Egypt (1998) where Moses stands similarly elevated, partly put there, as the scene's soundtrack reminds us, by the faith of the women more than the men. 

Certainly, this is not the only example of David referencing The Prince of Egypt (1998). Earlier on, there's a nice montage coming into Saul's city including scenes of the city being constructed. Not only is all of this reminiscent of the extensive building works in Prince of Egypt, there's even a statue being sculpted which resembles the monuments in the earlier film.

More broadly speaking, the bromance between David and Jonathan also seems to tap into the friendship between Moses and Rameses in Prince of Egypt's opening scenes. I think Jonathan even calls David "brother" at one point.

Perhaps the real clincher though is the wall decorations in Saul's palace (and note that in contrast to all these films, the Bible doesn't recall Saul having a palace, only a "house" (e.g. 1 Sam 18:10)  which depict Saul and David in the Valley of Elah in a fashion that strongly resembles Prince of Egypt's famous hieroglyphics.

So how is it as a film?

David wants to deliver an entertaining, positive and uplifting movie based on the Bible. The animation (aside from Goliath and the Philistines) is good, especially when directors Phil Cunningham and Brent Dawes use it to do things that a conventional camera could not achieve. The songs are fairly memorable and include some clever touches.

Yet while there is a positive and uplifting message, the selecting and wrangling of the material to achieve those aims falls a little short entertainment-wise. From the moment Goliath lands flat on his face the film starts to decelerate. IMDb gives the film's length as 1h49m. Even allowing for Cunningham's minute-long message to camera during the credits, that is a long time for a film where kids will constitute a significant part of the audience.

Moreover, while David's story does contain some incredible highs, there is a lot of failure and pain in Samuel as well. (Even his becoming king is marred by the deaths of his predecessor, whom he loved, and his best friend, which the film shows but doesn't really consider).

Those previous two paragraphs perhaps sound a little too negative, given the generally solid film-making, with some great touches, overall good voice work and well-rounded main character. If it doesn't hit the highs of The Prince of Egypt, it's certainly the best animated feature based on the Hebrew Bible since.

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David will be in UK cinemas from August 21st and can be seen in many other parts of the world via Angel Studios. I was provided with a screener to review this film.

That said, more than half of the film is now already available to view (legally) through Angel's YouTube channel if you want to get a feel for it. Peter Chattaway has compiled them into a nice list in the order in which they appear. Peter also notes that when the film opened in the USA on the 19th December, it finished 2nd in the weekend Box Office, with only Avatar 2 ahead of it. 

1 – The word "appropriation" isn't necessarily negative here, after all this is what all biblical films do. An animated children's film shot in ancient Hebrew would be unlikely to find much of an audience across North and South America and Europe. Nevertheless, this feels like a particularly selective and distinctly Christian reading of this, originally Jewish, story.

2 - I've written a more in-depth piece about Saul's mental health, in this piece about the portrayal of Saul in The Bible (2013).

The King of Kings (2025): Review

It's the busiest season of Bible films that I can remember and with The Chosen's latest cinematic instalment hitting number 2 in the US box office on its opening night, it's perhaps not surprising that other retellings of the Jesus story are also hoping to find an audience in the run up to Easter.

One such offering is The King of Kings, a 3D-animated film distributed by Angel Studios, the team formerly associated with earlier seasons of The Chosen. Officially it doesn't open in the UK until Friday (11th), but due, I imagine, to differing Easter holiday dates over here, many places are screening it from Monday, and on a similar number of screens to its better-known competitor.

While Angel are distributing it, it's been produced by Mofac studios and the creative team behind the film is South Korean, led by writer-director Seong-ho Jang. Up to now, he's been best known as a visual effects expert having established himself working with Park Chan-wook on Boksuneun naui geot (Sympathy for Mr. Vengeance, 2002). Given the current strength of Korean cinema in general at the moment, and the fact that over 30% of South Korea identify as Christian, in some senses it's only a surprise that this appears to be the first major Korean adaptation of the Gospels.

But that's if it can be considered an adaptation of the Gospels, because in many ways the film is an adaptation of a book by Charles Dickens "The Life of Our Lord" a work written in the late 1840s, but not published until 1934 upon the death of his last surviving child. To strengthen the association with the book, the opening scenes actually begin in 1840s London with Dickens on stage while trying to handle his feisty son Walter (voiced by Roman Griffin Davis). There will be a certain irony, happening up and down the country as parents in the flip-seats wrestle with their similarly-super-active children in an effort to get them to watch Dickens doing likewise.

Anyway, to placate his son, and finish the show before he entirely loses his audience, Dickens promises Walter to read him the story he's been writing about Jesus, but knowing Walter's predilection for King Arthur, he draws him in by telling him it's a story about the king of kings. And so that evening Walter,  Charles (Kenneth Branagh) his wife Catherine (Uma Thurman) sit down for its first reading and the action moves to first century Judea. Bethlehem first, to be precise. 

From then on, we occasionally flip back and forth to The Dickens family in a fashion which will be very familiar to anyone who's seen The Princess Bride, but most of the action centres on Jesus. There are however some interesting moments when the animation places Walter himself in the Jesus scenes, as a way of showing Walter's immersion in the story. It's a quirky way to do things, but I do like this in a way, not least because it reminds us of the gap between the story we have, and the events themselves. It's a way of breaking the fourth wall, I suppose.

What follows is a rapid fire trip through the main stories of the Gospels. It's been a quarter of a century since the last time an animated version of whole Jesus story made it to UK cinema screens,* but that film – The Miracle Maker – also opted for covering a lot of stories at a good pace. I plan to write a scene guide for The King of Kings so I can compare it to the Miracle Maker scene guide I created way back in 2006. 

Another interesting point of comparison, though, is with Dickens's book itself. I've only given "The Life of Our Lord" a quick look over, just to confirm that Seongho Jang's film broadly corresponds to the contours of the novel, but my friend Peter Chattaway told me in private correspondence that the specific content of the film's Jesus material diverges quite significantly from the book "you could almost argue that the film is a direct adaptation of the gospels that happens to use Dickens and his son as a storytelling device, without being *particularly* based on Dickens' book itself".

The stories that Branagh selects do form a fairly recognisable pattern. We get a nativity scene and naturally Jesus' escapades in the temple as a boy are included as it's the easiest story to relate to both for Walter (as a young boy) and the primary target audience in the cinema (or eventually streaming, I presume). There are a number of miracles – I counted nine prior to the resurrection – but only a bit of teaching before Jesus turns towards Jerusalem and is executed. 

There's a certain irony that Jesus is regularly called "Great Teacher" and yet so little of his teaching features. That's not really a criticism as this is a film squarely aimed at children. That puts a squeeze on running time and is hardly the right context for a pressing examination of Jesus' ethics. That said a few parables and the occasional famous saying might have fitted nicely. Given that, it's therefore interesting to see Jesus' message played out instead in the quotes from Dickens' A Christmas Carol as the end credits roll.

Nevertheless, this does point towards the film's presentation of Jesus. One of the key components of this, is the idea that he is exciting. This not only comes across in the way Dickens entices his son into the story in the first place, but also in how he describes Jesus. At one point he tells Walter that the King Arthur stores he adores are "based on this story". This is also reflected in the way the films opts for the more spectacular miracles. Just in terms of the medium of film, calming the sea, raising the dead etc., of course, make for good cinema, but they also make Jesus exciting in a way that perhaps the filmmakers are hoping will cut across prevailing ideas.

That leads on to the second element of the film's message: the importance of these miracles and their link to faith. At one point Dickens even summarises the purpose of Jesus' signs saying "they were miracles to  prove the power of faith". Following the feeding of the 5000 we hear "I think you're here because I fed you and you want more". 

There's a third aspect here as well, because occasionally the film parallels Jesus with Dickens himself, such as a rather protracted scene where Walter loses his cat. There are a few times where the camera cuts from Dickens to Jesus with the two men in identical poses (or vice versa), perhaps as if to convey the similarities between Jesus and a good parent. Perhaps it veers a little too far towards "My dad's a bit like Jesus", but that's a bit of a nitpick.

One thing I did find troubling, though, was the way the film portrayed Jewish involvement in Jesus' death. Someday, I will write up a detailed argument about this (beyond that which I wrote in my book), but essentially it would have been so clear to the Gospels' original audiences that Rome was the utterly dominant power that they didn't feel the need to really emphasise that: Jesus was executed by Rome on a Roman cross. Certain Jewish people are blamed in the Gospels for having some involvement with Jesus' arrest, but an overemphasis on this in the intervening years led to growing anti-Jewish sentiment and then into repeated violence by Christians against Jewish people. So how these events are treated really matters.

Unfortunately, the film leans far more into the idea that Jesus' fellow Jews were responsible for his death than the idea that the Romans were. The Romans are barely involved or shown until Jesus is dragged before Pontius Pilate, who is reluctant to allow Jesus to be killed, but gives in to the huge mob that has assembled in his courtyard.

In contrast, Jewish leaders frequently meet in darkened rooms to subversively plot against Jesus. Not only are they costumed far more religiously than Jesus and his disciples (we have little evidence as to what a Pharisees every day clothing was, but there's little reason to think it was much different from Jesus' clothing) but also some of the leading characters such as Caiaphas, for example, are caricatured in a fashion that draws on negative historic stereotypes of Jews ('hooked' noses for example). Of course, the story is being told by Dickens, whose own portrayal of Jewish characters was itself stereotyped and troubling at times, but I don't get the impression that this level of depth is what the filmmakers are exploring here. Perhaps, given the film's South Korean origins, these aspects of telling the story of Jesus' death are just not on the radar as much as they ought to be, and of course most western filmmakers fall foul of these issues too.

The appearance of the Jewish characters is not helped by the filmmakers adopting an extremely caricatured style of animation. It's obviously an artistic decision not to use life-like representations of the characters, but to go for a bolder more evocative style, and films such as Up (2009), Song of the Sea (2014) and Wallace & Gromit: Vengeance Most Fowl (2024) have all been successful, both commercially and creatively, by doing so. To some degree this is about personal taste and the overall style of animation that was used here didn't really appeal to me, but if you've seen the trailer you will know what to expect and you can make your decision on that accordingly.

That said, at times the animation is impressive. Perhaps as you might expect from a visual effects expert like Seong-ho Jang, some of the film's more spectacular moments are given a real boost by being able to draw on computer animation in this fashion. The scene where Jesus walks on water, and at the moment of Jesus' death are both able to 'move the camera' in a way that would be virtually impossible without CGI. Similarly the scene depicting Jesus' temptation is enabled to flow far more naturally than I can recall in any treatments of these passages by the way the scenery moves and morphs in the background.

There are also a few moments where 2D animation is put to excellent use. As part of Dickens setting the scene for Walter, he tells him about Moses and the Red Sea and the switch to a totally different style  of animation here really works and looks fantastic. Later, as Jesus wrestles with his emotions in the Garden of Gethsemane, there's another flashback to another Garden, Eden, and Seong-ho Jang opts again for a two-dimensional style, perfectly recreating Gustave Doré's "The Expulsion from the Garden of Eden" (1866). As an aside there's another reference to another biblical portrayal which I enjoyed. When Jesus heals someone's sight we see his face as their vision returns to them, through their eyes, as with the earlier silent film that shares its title with this film, Ceci B. DeMille's The King of Kings (1927).†

One other interesting element of the film's use of the camera is the number of shots taken from a low angle. This, obviously, emphasises that these stories are being seen from the angle of a child. This does give these moments quite a different feel. It's not uncommon for characters to look up a little bit at Jesus in Jesus films. It suggests awe, or perhaps respect and admiration, and quite a few Jesus films employ a God-shot at crucial moments, but these ultra low angles really do give a sense fo the story being told from a fresh perspective.

As you might expect from a voice-cast that includes bona fide movie stars in their own right like Oscar Isaac (Jesus), Pierce Brosnan (Pontius Pilate), Mark Hamill (Herod), Ben Kingsley (Caiaphas) and Forest Whitaker (Peter) as well as experienced, proven, old-pro voice actors such as Jim Cummings and James Arnold Taylor in multiple roles, the vocal work is excellent in this film and it does a great job of compressing a large amount of material into a necessarily short running time. While the Dickensian book-ending device does eat into that running time, it makes up for it by allowing Branagh to explain the characters' motives at various points, without that feeling forced.

Overall I think how you react to the film will largely depend on how you (and any children who you'll be watching it with) feel about the style of its animation. That said, even as someone who didn't particularly appreciate that style, there were certainly a lot of interesting aspects to it and the way in which it introduces so many parts of the Gospels in such a short time is a strength. Moreover, the cast is excellent and there are some great visual effects to be enjoyed.

From June 9, The King of Kings will be available to watch on PVOD across digital platforms. For more information, please visit: thekingofkingsfilm.com

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*There was, of course Sony's The Star (2017), but this only told the Nativity stories.
†There were a couple of other connections with Jesus movies I spotted, though these were either less deliberate or at least more incidental. Firstly, at one point Dickens calls his tale "The greatest story about the greatest king ever" which felt like a reference to The Greatest Story Ever Told (1965). Maybe that's a bit of a stretch. Secondly, the headscarves worn by some of the Pharisees and Chief Priests (who are actually differentiated in this film) have a very similar design to those in Jesus of Nazareth (1977) although this is hardly the first subsequent Jesus film to reproduce them. Lastly, the low angled shot of the woman accused of adultery was reminiscent of similar low-angled shots of this scene in The Passion of the Christ (2004).

Marginal Noah's Ark cartoons

I recently posted a list of 'all' the screen productions to adapt the story of Noah and the flood. As ever with these things you soon remember how impossible it is to list them 'all': there are just too many. With a story as popular as this there are always brief fantasy sequences where lead characters imagine themselves as Noah, or something that someone has just created for YouTube (how many views of an original Noah adaptation make it a worthy production in itself).

Anyway, as part of that process I went back on forth several times on a handful of films that all landed somewhere around the cut-off line, and, seeing as I'm wanting to post some brief thoughts about some of the Noah / flood / Ark films I've watched recently, I thought I'd start with these, particularly as the first two go back to the 1920s.

Amateur Night on the Ark (1923)

Between 1921 and 1929 American animation pioneer Paul Terry produces a series of over 450 cartoons called Aesop's Fables Cartoons, the earliest of which, such as The Cat and the Canary (1922) were more closely related to Aesop than Amateur Night on the Ark. Terry had started out at Thanhouser animating a character called Farmer Alfa, and when he left them in 1917 to set out on his own he brought his "star" Alfa with him. 

The Alfa character a bald older man with a white beard, featured in many of Terry's silent animations and here he appears as the sole human aboard a steamboat called "Ark" which aside from the chimney emit smoke as it powers the boat forward, otherwise resembles Noah's Ark (see above). But he's never identified as Noah, and his role doesn't really correspond to the biblical character. The Amateur Night" is a variety show which families of animals (certainly not just pairs) turn up for, and Alfa is takes the door money. Later he appears on stage, but is chased off stage when a box match he is performing in is exposed as a fake. 

Really, then, Terry's black and white cartoon uses aspects of the Noah story, the shape of the boat, the look of the character, the exotic animals, in a more modern context, with a certain amount of  anthropomorphising of the animals. However, aside from the use of the word “Ark” and the presence of animals and an older man, Amateur Night has little to do with the flood story, other than cultural resonance, so I might not qualify it at all as a Noah film, but for it's similarities with... 

Availability: YouTube.

Noah's Lark (1929)

As with the above, Noah's Lark, directed by Dave Fleischer, starts off as recognisably as a modern-twist on the biblical tale. Noah is portrayed as a modern-era sailor replete with an anchor tattoo on his forearm and accompanied by The Sailor's Hornpipe. If that all sounds a little reminiscent of a certain spinach-chumping sea-farer then you won't be surprised to know that it was Dave Fleischer's big brother Max who adapted the Popeye comic strip for the screen in 1933 (the comic strip began in 1929 as well).

As with Amateur Night the original biblical premise, a bunch of animals stuck on a boat captained by a human, is merely a leaping off point for Fleischer's flights of fancy and artistic imagination. Here it spins it off far beyond the typical edges of what that usually entails, as the animals -- who here seem more of a crew -- arrive on land to a fairground and get involved in all kinds of antics and visual jokes (a monkey plucking a tiger's stripes as bass notes in the soundtrack being a particularly good gag given this cartoon was from the early months of the talkie era).

So again the links to the biblical story are fairly tangential, but the use of the song "The animals came in Two by Two" over the opening credits, the explicit reference to Noah in the title, and the pun on Ark, the fear of the (flood) waters and perhaps just the sense of their joy/relief when they arrive on land once again tip their hat just a little more in that direction than the previous film. 

Availability YouTube.

Yogi’s Ark Lark (1972)

As with the above films, Yogi's Ark Lark has little to do with the flood story, other than cultural resonances. Again the boat in question is called “Noah’s Ark” and their are animals (Yogi Bear and a host of his other, early 1970s Hanna Barbera cartoon colleagues) and an older man who is named Noah. Essentially Yogi and friends get together and share their worries about the state of their home environments, such as their homes are being destroyed by litter and over-population and so decide to leave it all behind on an ark and head off in search of "the perfect place" (a phrase that becomes the title of a song that is used regularly throughout the show).

What was interesting for me was how the complaints about the state of the world were far more soft-right than you would get on this kind of show today making a host of usually fairly wacky characters seem rather old in yearning for a lost past they (presumably) ever experienced. Moreover, ultimately , they decide on a rather ‘Big Society’ solution of sorting out those issues themselves, with Top Cat and Lenny, for example, deciding not only to clean up their alley, but their entire city.

It all makes for pretty dull entertainment. Jokes are thin on the ground, with even the moments of slapstick falling short (actually if anyone had literally fallen short of something, it might have been the funniest thing in the programme) and the Noah parallels are extremely thin indeed. The Noah character really only feels like he's been brought on board [wink] to make the catchy title stick.

Availablity: archive.org.

Animaniacs: Noah’s Lark (1993)

The Animaniacs take on the flood story comes in episode 33 Cartoons in Wakko's Body where it sits alongside two other stories The Big Kiss and Hiccup. I'm not overly familiar with Animaniacs, so my comments will probably seem a bit odd to those who know the show, but essentially this is a kids-focussed cartoon, although very much with a few adult jokes smuggled in for the benefit of any adults watching. The New York comic style of deadpan humour is particularly to the fore, not least in Noah’s detached cynicism. Other jokes include some late-to-the-party, yet snobby, hippos and Noah’s fear of spiders.

Jokes aside this one sticks fairly closely to the plot. It's certainly far more recognisably a Noah story than the three episodes above. Interestingly, Noah (pictured above) is a lot younger here with dark hair and no beard. He also likes playing with one of those table tennis bats with the ball attached to it with a bit of elastic. While I'd have to consult with an archaeologist to be sure, I don't think those are in the Bible...

Availability: The only place I found this online gave me PC issues.

(Image taken from the Cartoonatics blog)

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.

The Tale of the Ark (1909)

The earliest film about Noah and the flood is The Tale of the Ark (1909) by British animation pioneer Arthur Melbourne Cooper. It's currently available for free on BFIPlayer, in the UK at least, and seems to also have been circulated under the title Noah's Ark. I don't know much about Cooper, but he apparently learnt some of his skills from the legendary British cinema pioneer Birt Acres and while I'd love to get into all of that, I simply don't have the time at the moment. So I'll restrict myself to a few passing observations about the film itself.

The film begins with a young girl playing with a toy Noah's Ark, who soon tires and settles herself down for a nap. there's a cut, and the next shot is of the ark now resting on water, by grass. This is a charming framing device, which both contextualises this as a children's film (or at least one suitable for/aimed at children), while also putting it outside the scope of historical scrutiny. Years later another black and white film that featured Noah, The Green Pastures (1936) would employ a similar framing device.

The rest of the film is stop-motion animation. Plot-wise things are fairly straightforward. Noah opens the doors, the animals bring themselves on board, the rains comes forming a flood, then the water recedes and the animals disembark, but there are a number of nice touches here. Firstly while most of the animals file onto the ark fairly uniformly, the elephants provide a certain level of comedy, spinning and rolling about and heading off in different directions. This shows a level of advancement, of Cooper going beyond basic execution of a smoothly executed piece of animation, to include humour and give his characters personality.

Secondly I was struck by the way the waters gradually recede after the flood. I don't know whether the water was gradually drained off camera, or if it was gradually filled and the footage reversed, but again it perhaps could have been done with simple cuts but this seemed a superior approach.

Finally, Cooper again uses the elephants to lighten the tone and highlight his dexterity as an animator. When Noah and the animals disembark Noah lowers the ramp, but it's not placed quite right, at least, not for one of the elephants who uses their trunk to adjust it before going down. Again the fussiness / sense of  exasperatedly having to show Noah how to do it right is quite a complex thing to convey with animated figures.

For those wanting to read more about this film, David Shepherd wrote a paper on it for the Journal of Religion and Film back in 2016 called "Noah's Beasts  Were the Stars": Arthur Melbourne Cooper Noah’s Ark (1909)'.

The Chosen (2019) s1e03

The opening scene of the third episode of The Chosen is hard to place. Jesus is praying, outside, surrounded by trees and seemingly in a degree of anguish. If it weren't for the tent and campfire one could easily suppose this is a flash-forward to Gethsemane. The reason for Jesus's apparent distress is never clear, but eventually it emerges that this is still a time before his ministry (or at least a time he is without disciples) and that he is still working as a carpenter.

These scant clues emerge from the various conversations with a girl from the nearby village and a growing group of her friends. A title informs us that this is Capernaum AD26 and the girl approaches Jesus holding a (broken?) doll that evokes the scene in King of Kings (1927) where Jesus uses carpentry rather than a miracle to restore a girl's broken doll. 

When she asks Jesus tells the girl he is a travelling craftsman which includes carpentry, only the conversation summarises a fairly accurate translation of the Greek word tektōn with far more graceful writing than my explanation suggests. This goes some way to explaining the extensive gear he has with him, both for carpentry and for camping, I find myself momentarily wondering how he manages to transport it all.

Nevertheless the opening scenes bring home to me some of the practical implications of that well known verse from Matt 8:20 "foxes have dens…but the son of man has nowhere to lay his head". It's rare in Jesus films to see him and his disciples sleeping  anywhere besides the open air, or in a rudimentary bed in a home, but of course Jesus (in time with his disciples) was a travelling preacher and must have spent many nights on the road with nowhere to sleep. I have no idea how widely-used the tents that St Paul made were, but this does make me think differently about the day to day practicalities of travelling around a variety of Galilean villages. But it soon becomes clear that this isn't just a fleeting point, it's one of the major points of the episode. More or less, the whole episode takes place in and around Jesus' temporary camp.

The other major theme of this episode is emphasising that Jesus liked children and they liked him. This is certainly less original amongst Jesus films, but it's usually limited to a scene or two. Even The Miracle Maker (2000) where much of the action takes place from the point of view of Jairus' daughter can only devote a certain amount of time to it. Here however the series has a whole 30 minute episode to show Jesus interacting with children, without the burden of having to move on because there are three more miracles to squeeze in before the resurrection.

It's clear too that Jesus doesn't just peddle a childish version of his message, even if he blows raspberries and uses other techniques to gain their interest, build trust and make them feel welcome. He talks about the difference between intelligence and wisdom ("Many times smart men lack wisdom") and teaches them that the messiah might not meet expectations. At a first watch I thought this was peddling the idea that all Jews at this time had hopes for a military messiah, and it does voice that idea. (As Candida Moss explains here the Jews didn't share uniform expectations regarding Messiah. Different groups had very different ideas of what it meant including mythical readings, and multiple messiah-figures). Here, however, it's one of the children repeating something he's heard a rabbi say - it's hardly painted as a universal belief and Jesus here seems to encourage the children who specifically go to Torah school as well as praising those who have learnt what is taught in school even though they do not go.

I'm less taken by the extended scene in the middle where Jesus teaches the kids as they are all around sitting in a circle. There's just something unrealistic about it which makes the whole episode feel a bit too rose-tinted. Anyone who has had their own kids and/or tried to deliver "the serious" bit in a kids church group knows it rarely goes like this. I wonder if scenes like this - welcome as they are - maybe set unrealistic expectations. Jesus welcomed little children, but portraying him as such an exceptional children's worker feels a little much to me.

There's also something a little overly-innocent about the way Jesus spends huge amounts of time alone with these children. Perhaps there shouldn't be. It's a sad indictment on much of western society that a single man spending that much time alone with that many kids, would raise suspicion today, though partly this is because situations like this have been so abused in the past. The children's insistence that they keep it their friendship with Jesus a secret seems particularly odd in this respect. Again, Jesus is an exception - doubtless the filmmakers consider him far beyond such issues. Still, that line bothers me. Kids! Tell your parents if you meet strange men. Parents tell your kids to do likewise.

There are couple of nice artistic ideas in this episode. Firstly as nice foreshadowing of the resurrection when the children arrive at Jesus' camp early one day and one of them wonders if he's dead. Spoiler alert - he's not, but the tent and the way it's filmed foreshadow another time when people will arrive together, peer into a (possibly) similar hole/structure with uncertainty about if he that lay there the day before will reappear, and the relief when he does. 

Secondly, the rain that falls during the final scene, following Jesus' departure, which director Dallas Jenkins reveals in comments after a screening was a late decision, is nevertheless a poetic and poignant one. There's a palpable sense of nostalgia in this episode embodied in this final moment. People of faith often talk about how their path through life is far from straightforward. One day everything is sunny and it feels like Jesus is there beaming down upon you; the next you're alone in the rain left nursing your memories.

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.

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 Star (2017)

One of the things that neither Bible film fans, nor the people who write about them like to admit, is that, more often than not, they are a form of entertainment. We should all know this of course; anyone who has seen 80 year-old stutterer Moses portrayed by a young Charlton Heston fresh from the gym is kidding themselves if they think otherwise. We excuse all kinds of unlikely dialogue on the grounds of artistic license and accept many of the lines publicists feed us about films raising difficult questions or exploring issues. It's not that Bible films cannot both do those things and be entertaining, but that often those of us who take them seriously forget that, for many, they are just about entertainment.

Sony Animated Pictures' Christmas release, The Star, seems content simply to aim for entertainment. No-one would watch it's take on the Nativity story and think that this was how things really happened. The dramatic license makes no serious attempt to convince you that it has any kind of link to how historical reality. Instead it just aims for a fun, whilst not disrespectful, retelling of the story of Jesus' birth through the eyes of it's real main character, a donkey called Bo. Bo and his best friend Dave (a dove) end up getting adopted by Mary and Joseph in the weeks leading up to their trip to Bethlehem and unbeknownst to the holy couple bring with them a series of hazards which they somehow manage to, just about, keep at bay.

As family entertainment it's not bad. The pacing is sprightly enough to stop boredom setting in, the characters are generally appealing without feeling overly cutesy (Ruth the sheep and Felix the camel aside) and there are a few funny lines here and there. Whilst none of it is as amusing as the opening sequence in Despicable Me 3, it's at least on a par with the rest of Despicable Me 3.

The best thing about it, however, is its affectionate take down of both the typical biblical epic and the various ways in which the Christmas story has been told in the past. The opening title sets the tone, but it continues through the banter between Elizabeth and Zechariah ("I think I liked you better when you couldn't talk") and one of the camels' judgement on Herod's golden shoes ("That, Felix, is money and no taste"). Perhaps the best take down of all comes when Bo realizes the stable he has discovered is where Jesus is meant to be born. What really gives it away is that the poor animals that live there have suffered 9 months of bad sleep due to the star shining through a gap in their roof right on to the manger. It's a great spoof of the clichéd climatic shot in The Nativity Story (2006) and the works that inspired it and one of a number of places where the film playfully takes on the ways in which we have interpreted the original story, without trying to undermine its importance.

The other thing that is interesting about the film is the way it handles Joseph's reaction to the news of Mary's pregnancy. Having watched almost every available Nativity film this year, most of them take an remarkably adult angle on this story, which feels very much part of the post-1960s shift in attitudes to sex. Typically Joseph is angry or hurt, but never seriously considers stoning her to death. His attitudes are very modern in ways that our ancestors, and perhaps our descendants would not recognize. If you've ever watched one of these films with kids, it's hard to explain to them the nuances of what is going on.

As The Star is very much aimed at children (and younger, primary age children at that) it bravely decides to omit these very grown-up anxieties, save parents an awkward conversation, and focus instead on Joseph's concerns about how he can possibly father such a child. It's not a unique line of thinking - there's a similar line in The Nativity Story, for example, (a film which has clearly been a significant influence on The Star) - but I appreciate the focus this gives on issues that kids can relate to more readily ("Can I handle what is expected of me?"). It took me a while to get used to it, but it does allow us to see past what has become the dominant aspect of how Joseph tends to be viewed.

Where the film falls down, for me, is where it tries to move beyond being an entertaining celebration of the story of Mary and Joseph, and force out a cheesy lump of exposition. Suddenly it feels like you have been ambushed by a large dose of unwelcome propaganda, like someone 'splaining the film's life lessons when you've already fully grasped it. Seasonal goodwill had previously enabled me to overlook the awful, mega-churchy sounding soundtrack. Now I'm not sure I feel as generous.

Perhaps, though, I can forgive the film for that because of it's subtler moments. The nods to Lassie that are not wrung out for all they are worth, the Matera-like design of Bethlehem, and, most of all, the decent, honest, but realistic portrayal of Mary and Joseph who, in the midst of all the crazy animal antics, somehow retain a sense of poise and dignity. Thankfully The Star never lets you forget that behind all the entertainment, there is an important story that we need to celebrate and continue to share.

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.