Two new biblical shorts announced:Jael Drives the Nail and Our Child

Two weekends ago I had the privilege of being a judge for The Pitch film fund, which offers production finance, support and training to filmmakers, particularly those based on stories from Bible. At stake were two opportunities to get £30,000 funding each to make their short film – one for comedy and one for drama. 

This year we were spoilt for choice and so it's really exciting to know these two films will soon be made, possibly even in the next year.

Jael Drives the Nail

The first is Maddie Dai's Jael Drives the Nail a comedy that takes place in Jael's tent in the moments leading up to Sisera's death (Judges 4:17-24). The story has been a long-term favourite of mine and I was so glad to be able to include the only other major treatment of – Henri Andréani's Jaël et Sisera (1911) – it in my book.

Dai is a New Zealand-born, London-based cartoonist, screenwriter, illustrator and filmmaker, whose cartoons – many of which play with religious/classical ideas – appear in "The New Yorker". As a writer she contributed to the second series of Our Flag Means Death (2023) and wrote the very funny short film Ministry of Jingle (2023) [trailer] which was also her first film in the director's chair.

Dai's degree was in religious art and hopes to make a feature on the Book of Judith, so expect that to influence proceedings, although The Pitch's announcement promises a "modern dark comedic twist" on the subject, which seems to me a perfect way to approach it. I cannot wait to see the final result.

Our Child

I'm also excited to see Anatole Sloan's Our Child, a modernised take on the story of Hagar, Abraham and Sarah (Genesis 16 & 21) relocated to modern day Hong Kong. My favourite take on this story is a comedic one (The Real Old Testament, 2003), so it will be good to see a more serious approach to it, brought into the modern day. Having contributed to an entry for the Encyclopedia of the Bible and its Reception on this subject and written a blog post detailing some of the other takes on it and Sloan's approach seems like an excellent way to approach the story.

Sloan is of mixed British-Chinese descent and he has explained how his take on the story, which will revolve around a young surrogate mother, will reflect "issues that I saw growing up in East Asia". Sloan has also professed his desire "to draw on the cinematic language of that region".

Sloan's previous work has been on documentaries, including The Speeches which enabled him to work with an array of household names including Idris Elba, Glenn Close, Woody Harrelson, Olivia Coleman and King Charles III.
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There's a further snippet about these films at the end of this article in Variety.

La ricotta (1963), revisited

Sixteen years ago now I reviewed Pier Paolo Pasolini's 30-minute short La ricotta (1963), which was released as part of the anthology/portmateau film RoGoPaG. I've changed a lot since then, not least becuase now I've seen all of Pasolini's films – some of them multiple times – and read a lot and spoken about his movies as well. So I thought it was time to revisit this one, as I sat down to watch it in its entirety for the first time in a while.

Multiple crucifixions
The first thing that struck me was the multiple crucifixions we find here, all stacked up against one another. Most obviously we have the gaudy technicolor reconstruction of the film within a film – a close reproduction of Rosso Fiorentino's Mannerist "Deposizione dalla croce" [aka "Deposition of Volterra"] (1521) – but this is not the only depiction of the crucifixion in the film with the film, because the scene in which Stracci features stars a Jesus who looks significantly different (there's no long red hair for one thing). In another sense though, Stracci's death is also a crucifixion of sorts. He dies on the cross, perhaps even, one could argue, for the sins of the world, and the final line of dialogue from Welles's director, recalls the centurion at the foot of the cross. Stracci's own final lines are significant too.

But there is another scene that functions as a crucifixion scene, that is not so widely talked about. as the crew set up one of the shoots for the crucifixion scene we witness Stracci and the actor playing Jesus. While they are lying, nailed to their crosses, on the ground, the camera looks "up" at them as if the shot is taken at from the foot of the cross. Like the rest of the cast and crew the Jesus-actor talks down to Stracci, and their dialogue could be easily construed as just that. However, on closer inspection there's more to it:

Stracci:
I'm hungry. I'm hungry.
Now I'm going to blaspheme.

"Jesus":
Just try it and see what i give you.

Straci:
A fine Christ you are. You think
I've got no right to grumble?

Jesus:
Suit yourself, but I won't take you
into the Kingdom of Heaven.

Stracci:
I could be okay in the
Kingdom of the Earth.

(The argument moves on to politics)

This dialogue works as an ironic take on the text from Luke's Gospel. Instead of the thief humbling himself to beg a receptive and willing Jesus for entry into the Kingdom of Heaven, we have an already humbled Stracci talking up his suitability for the kingdom. Meanwhile the Jesus actor is anything but the figure we find in Luke 23. Rather than be gracious and receptive he acts like a petty and mean-spirited gatekeeper.

Sweary Mary
Sixteen years I didn't know any Italian, but I started learning around 2013-4 and have been making slow progress since. Enough, at least, to spot the odd thing that you don't get from the subtitles. Here, for example, there's a scene where the actors are trying to capture the deposition from the cross, reproducing the exact poses of another Mannerist, Jacopo da Pontormo's "Deposizione" (1528). Pasolini has studied the history of art, and knew his Mannerism, so he would have know that "its adherents generally favored compositional tension and instability rather than the balance and clarity of earlier Renaissance painting".(1) So Pasolini makes a visual art-joke, demonstrating the "instability" of the composition by having the actors – who have been ordered to hold their poses still, rather than move and act – collapse after a while. This is rather unsurprising given the general messing around that has been occurring on set and taken to be typical of the attitudes that Pasolini seeks to highlight. Most of the actors laugh and see the funny side.

One person, however, is not impressed. The film's major star, "Sonia, la 'Diva'" played by Laura Betti, is playing Mary, Jesus' mother. While her co-stars laugh-off the whole incident, she is incandescent with rage. Her voice though is not added to cacophony of sounds emanating from the cast at this point, which almost seems to add to her frustration. However, it's clear that one of the words she shouts several times is "basta", the Italian for "Enough!" only here it's probably a bit stronger in Italian than that literal translation. I can't lip read the rest, but I'd love to hear from anyone who can. I do wonder if this was the moment that was the tipping point for those who decided to press for Pasolini's prosecution (that said, Geoffrey Nowell-Smith says, in this piece, "that the real target of the prosecution was not La ricotta at all but the much talked about Gospel". In other words that this prosecution was a shot across Pasolini's bows.

Accattone and Stracci
This time around I was struck by the similarities between the title character (I won't say "hero") of Pasolini's debut feature Accattone (1961) and Stracci, the lead character here. Both characters have meaningful names. Accattone means "Beggar" or more colloquially ‘deadbeat’ or ‘grifter’. Stracci means "rags". The meanings of both resonate through their roles. While both are the lead characters, neither of them is a hero – not in any conventional sense at least – or even, really, an anti-hero.

More importantly for Pasolini was that they were both representatives of the bottom layer of Italian society that he treasured so greatly. For Pasolini it was this strata of society that most opposed neo-capitalism and refused to play by its rules, and was also where the last remaining vestiges of the sacred could be found.

Pasolini was hugely critical of bourgeois society, and the more I look into his work the more I am convinced he would have hated me and the majority of those who so value his films today. And this is perhaps why I find both Accattone and Stracci so difficult to sympathise with, certainly to understand their actions. Stracci is the more sympathetic. Selling a dog to buy food when you're starving is more understandable than grooming and then pimping out a young girl, but the way Stracci eats to such excess proudly refuses to make him a conventional tragic-hero and imbues the whole film with the sort of comic approach that Pasolini was going for.

The actor playing Stracci, Mario Cipriani had appeared, uncredited in Accattone and Mamma Roma (1962) and would do so twice more, firstly in "La terra vista dalla luna" his contribution to another composite film Le streghe (The Witches, 1967), then in "Che cosa sono le nuvole?" in another joint film Caprice Italian Style (1968). Franco Citti, who played Accattone, would go on to become one of Pasolini's biggest collaborators, fronting a number of his movies throughout Pasolini's 14-year career.

The cruelty
Not unrelated to the above is the cast and crew's treatment of Stracci. This time around I was struck by how unrelentingly cruel it is and how it seems to be generated largely by class hatred. Stracci is never shown as being part of the group or having any form of social acceptance. Sonia's dog is welcome on site, and even catered for, but Stracci's family have to remain at a distance. Even when his costars appear, they smile wave and pass by like the opening characters from the Parable of the Good Samaritan. The scene where Stracci overeats to bursting point is particularly noticeable – everyone goads and bullies him into eating more and more, pitting the desperation of his hunger against his human dignity – but this behaviour occurs elsewhere. Once when Stracci is fixed to the cross, and mentions his hunger, a co-star offers him bites from his sandwich to taunt him before another man pours drink down his throat and he is mocked in every scene.

I suspect this behaviour is not so much a call to the middle classes to improve their behaviour to other classes as it is to say to the sub-altern/proletarians that "this is how they will treat you if unrestrained"

 

While it tends to be Il vangelo secondo Matteo, Teorema (Theorem, 1968) or Salò o le centoventi giornate di Sodoma (Salò or the 120 days of Sodom, 1975) that are Pasolini's most celebrated films, there's a very strong case for La ricotta being his best short film, and his greatest comedy. And while there were often strong objections to his work, and threats of prosecution, I believe it was the only time Pasolini was convicted for one of his films.

Given its release came at a similar time to the start of the Vatican II Council I can't help but wonder if the timing was deliberately provocative, even for such a mild film by today's standards. Pasolini considered himself an atheist, but one who nevertheless realised the important and varying role the church played in Italian society in general. So while Il vangelo remains the more insightful film about the Gospels, La ricotta speaks with more insight and passion about the role of the Roman Catholic church at just the same time that the institution itself was undergoing major self-examination; and about Italian society in general and its often hypocritical attitudes to religion.

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1- Finocchio, Ross (2003) "Mannerism: Bronzino (1503–1572) and his Contemporaries", Department of European Paintings The Metropolitan Museum of Art website. Available online -  https://www.metmuseum.org/toah/hd/zino/hd_zino.htm

Visions of Ecstasy (1989)

Visions of Ecstasy (1989), a 20 minute short film by UK director Robert Wingrove, was released the year after the Last Temptation of Christ furore and, as such, was always likely to hit the headlines. Wingrove's film was an exploration of the sexuality of Saint Teresa of Ávila, a subject which had interested numerous artists and writers before and caused various controversies. It became the first and only film to be banned in the UK on grounds of blasphemy. When Wingrove appealed to the European Court of Human Rights that his right to free speech was being unjustly curtailed, they found against him and upheld the ban.

Eventually, though, it found it's way onto DVD in 2012, then onto YouTube and is currently showing on Mubi. It's not a film I'd particularly sought out as it doesn't really have much to do with the biblical narratives – really it's a work of fantasy and imagination inspired by religious figures.

Seen 20+ years after all the controversy it's hard to know what to make of it. It's very much a late 80s/early 90s British art film, Jarman-esque you could even say (if you don't have a huge number of frames of reference for this kind of work, which I do not). It could be classified as a silent film – certainly there's no dialogue – but the soundtrack by Siouxsie and the Banshees bassist Steven Severin plays a key role in situating the film beyond the realms of reality.

There are two main scenes, which are intercut, the consistency of Severin's soundtrack blending-together the multiple joins between the scenes. In the first Teresa and another nun (her psyche) kiss, standing up. In the other Teresa clambers upon Jesus, who is lying prostrate nailed to the cross.

Many claim that it's pornography, but I don't think that carries much weight. Aside from Visions of Ecstasy's religious angle, it's hard to see how this would gain anything more than a 15 certificate. The whole film consists of erotic material, but two-thirds of the characters keep most of their clothes on and the other has his dignity preserved by a historically implausible loincloth. 

Wingrove has a history of work that has pushed at the boundaries of what certain parts of society have deemed acceptable. His coffee table book "The Art of the Nasty" featured images from the "video nasties" banned in the UK in 1984. Peter Malone notes how in 1999 Wingrove made Sacred Flesh, about "a convent where the superior had visions of Mary Magdalene and discussed sexuality, the Catholic Church, and its attitudes toward sex".¹ He's directed various sexploitation/horror films including three in the Satanic Sluts collection. Back in 2013 his website described his work like this:

I also direct the odd film, get banned for blasphemy, fight censorship, produce books, attempt to write a novel, run a nightclub, shoot pornography, create imagery, flirt with Satanism and have an unhealthy obsession with political extremes.

It's hard to imagine now, but back in the late 80s there was a lot of political heat around censorship. Last Temptation was a relatively small episode compared to the extent of the column inches spent frothing about video nasties, the pro-gay movement, Madonna's "Like a Prayer" video and whatever else Mary Whitehouse was campaigning about. Wingrove was told by the BBFC that if Jesus had been a statue rather than an actor they would have passed it.²

Despite the above Wingrove later claimed "Visions didn't set out to offend and the film was about Teresa, it wasn't about Christ. I know how to be blasphemous and offensive and Visions is not what I'd have done had I set out to do that".³

What I've not really been able to grasp was what Wingrove was intending to do with the film. Looking back, while there are obvious points of comparison with Jarman's The Garden (which came out the following year), it doesn't feel like its cut from the same cloth. The sexuality in Jarman's film feels like it's deeply-felt self-expression. Wingrove's feels more exploitative, not least because Sacred Flesh is typically considered a nunsploitation film. Visions is artfully shot, but I'm not how artistic it is. Perhaps it exists to give erotic pleasure to those who find something sexy in the more visceral/ritualistic elements of Christianity, something which does little for those who don't share that predilection.

As is often the case in these scenarios, controversial films such as this live on, extending far beyond their actual merit because of the fuss that was made about them. Wingrove says he wasn't deliberately intending to often, and I'm inclined to believe him. Ironically, if Mary Whitehouse and the various other protesters had just let him be, few of us would even have heard about it. 

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1 - Peter Malone, Screen Jesus: Portrayals of Christ in Television and Film  (Lanham/Toronto/Plymouth, UK: Scarecrow Press, 2012), p.245.

2 - Mentioned in discussion on "Heart Of The Matter - Censorship Debate" (BBC) broadcast in 1996 available at https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fbUz9lbGhrM

3 - Mentioned in "Banned In The UK - Visions Of Ecstasy" broadcast (08/03/05) available at https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=QC98HABm5p4

Magdala (2022) Plays at Cannes ACID

I've paid Damien Manivel’s Magdala only a fraction of the attention that I should have and now I find that it has already played at the ACID Festival (Association for the Distribution of Independent Cinema) that runs alongside the main Cannes Film Festival, so it really is about time I posted something about it.

Magdala is a dialogue-free film, apparently similar in style to Albert Serra's Birdsong (2008), that features an elderly Mary Magdalene, reflecting on her time with the long-departed Jesus. It's French made, and, at only 78 minutes, it's one of the shorter biblical features I've come across in a while.

As ever, my friend Peter Chattaway has been much more on the ball with the news. After an initial post in January 2021, he followed up in April with the news the film would be playing at ACID, and now he's got excerpts from some reviews of the film and a few images and video clips.    

In an interview for Cineuropa Manivel describes his film as "very minimalist in some sense, but it also places sensations centre stage" and was born out of his desire to work with the film's star, Elsa Wolliaston, again, following their collaboration on two short films La Dame au chien and Isadora’s Children.  

The reviews seem largely positive so far, though, that is, in part, because all the reviewers seem to appreciate Manivel's austere approach. As a fan of that kind of thing, I'm looking forward to it too. Hopefully it won't be too long before I'm able to report back. Mubi streamed Manivel's last film Isadora's Children (2020) – for which he won Best Director at the Locarno Film Festival – so hopefully they will be showing Magdala at some point as well.

The Book of Judith (2015)

I've written several times about films based on the Book of Judith and director Alex Méndez Giner has been kind enough to share with me his 2015 short The Book of Judith (view trailer).

The film is not an attempt to directly adapt the Book of Judith, nor to create a modernised version of the story or even to depict a 'Judith figure'. Instead it draws on numerous and historical artistic portrayals of Judith's deeds as the texture of a film about the internal thoughts and anxieties of a widowed farmer, in order to penetrate "the complex psychology of Judith’s character and shed light on her personality".¹

The nameless woman, who the film's official description confirms is called Judith, lives on an isolated sheep farm with what we presume are her daughter and mother. Their remote lives are interrupted one day when a rather forthright stranger seeks shelter: it's winter and his car has apparently broken down en route to his mother's funeral. The stranger is not sinister, but the presumptive way in which he appears to invite himself into Judith's house and then decide he is staying for the night leaves her feeling threatened and perhaps a little violated.

I say "appear", because from very early on in the film the line between reality and fantasy quickly becomes blurred. We witness only snippets of Judith and her guest's initial discussions to the point that it's unclear how he ended up inside her house to begin with let alone being her guest for the evening.

Méndez Giner's evocative imagery, however, says it all. Images of wolves, sheep with their throats cut, softly lit funeral processions and Judith deep underwater engulf the viewer in images of the threat of an invasive outside force. The precise nature of the threat brought by the stranger is never made explicit, but left for the viewer to infer from the range of Judith's inner thoughts with which we are presented. Unsurprisingly, given the film's title, things culminate with a series of sexually charged images.

The director's own description of the film refers to over 110 portrayals and the influence of some of the most famous such works, especially the Baroque-era painters Gentileschi, Bigot and Caravaggio are particularly apparent. Notable too are references to other works such as Caravaggio's "Sacrifice of Isaac" and Bill Viola's "Five Angels for the Millennium".

The result is a beautiful and interesting film which by associating itself with the text only loosely, through symbols rather than plot, allows its audience to explore some of the emotions that Judaism's greatest heroine may have experienced when the might of Holofernes army threatened her and her town. And it demonstrates to us today that, even if the stakes are rarely, if ever, as high for us as they were for her, we can still find a path to less troubled times.

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Image credit - Alex Mendez Giner.
1 - From Méndez Giner's description of the film which accompanies the trailer - https://vimeo.com/167677004

No Greater Power (1942)

Many years ago I won a copy of the cine projector release of this film and have been waiting for our family projector to get into a fit state to be able to watch it. Having finally got around to seeing it I’ve now found out that the Gospel Films Archive have released it on DVD (along with I Beheld His Glory (1952) and the 1949 film Ambassador for Christ from Cathedral Films’ “Life of Paul series) so it’s available to view for considerably less hassle than I had to go through.

The film itself dates from 1942 which puts it in that early talkie period when very few companies were making Jesus films were made. One of the major exceptions was Cathedral films who also made other early, sound-era, Jesus films such as The Great Commandment (made in 1939 but not released until Fox did so in 1942) and Child of Bethlehem (1940). Like those films No Greater Power was produced by Rev. James K. Friedrich who also co-wrote it with Robert Edmunds. Friedrich’s regular collaborator John T. Coyle directed, a partnership that would produce a vast body of Bible films in the years to follow.

The film starts, somewhat unusually, with a man and woman arriving in what appears to be a rural village. As she is pregnant and riding a donkey it’s natural to think of the Nativity and to wonder how these images will fit with what we have already been told is the story of Zacchaeus, particularly as the couple are searching for somewhere to stay the night.

Further unexpected twists are to come: We meet Zacchaeus, but he’s only a down-on-his-luck potter; the couple are not married but brother and sister; and it emerges that the man of the couple, rather than Zacchaeus who is the tax collector.

Initially Zacchaeus turns the couple away. He already has some financial difficulties and offering hospitality to a tax collector is bad for business such is the feeling of hatred and the fear of spiritual contamination from his fellow townspeople. But then there’s a chance encounter with a pernickety Jewish scribe who forces him to destroy one of his pots when it momentarily comes into contact with a dead insect. Zacchaeus is infuriated and decides to reject the strictures of the Jewish law and offer hospitality, at a considerable price, to the tax collector and his wife.

As the evening passes, the two men chat and the tax collector persuades Zacchaeus of the benefits of that particular profession, namely that there is money and power to be gained. When his guests leave, Zacchaeus enlists and a quick montage shows us him accruing considerable wealth.

It’s clear though that his perceived rejection by his fellow townspeople, and his subsequent power and wealth have changed him such that whereas initially he was the kind of man who might be compassionate towards strangers in town, he is now motivated almost solely by profit. So it is that we arrive at the story from Luke’s Gospel.

Later on Cathedral Films’ offerings tended to adopt a more straightforward, point and shoot methodology, perhaps as the pressures of covering so much material in such a short period of time took precedence over more artistic concerns. Here however there are several notable shots and it’s not inconceivable that these were due, in part, to cinematographer John Alton who went on to greater things in Elmer Gantry and Robert Siodmak’s classic Film Noir The Killers (1946).

Perhaps it’s just the era, or the black and white photography, but it’s the Noir film that seems more closely related to Alton’s work here, particularly the interiors of Zacchaeus’ house, which is shot from a variety of high and low angles. There’s also interesting use of light, not least the film’s most discussed shot (below), where backlighting forms a halo effect around Jesus’ head.

Significantly our first shot of Jesus is taken from over Zacchaeus’ shoulder (below), not quite a point-of-view shot, but certainly suggestive of such. Jesus is a small figure in the background, distant, remote and cut off from the film’s eponymous anti-hero. The audience is then privileged with closer shots of Jesus as we see him interact with some of the townspeople. There are blessings of children, and perhaps the suggestion of a healing.

Here as well we’re given a brief sample of Jesus’ teaching, all of which comes from the Gospel of Matthew rather than Luke. In the main it’s Matthew 5:43-48 (shown as intertitles in the cine release version), but the final line is Matt 5:20: "...except your righteousness exceed the righteousness of the Scribes and Pharisees, ye shall in no case enter into the Kingdom of Heaven."

It's not entirely clear why the filmmakers decided that, of all the words of Jesus available to them, it was these that should be chosen here. The "love your enemies" passage from Matt 5:43-48 is conceivably the kind of thing that Jesus might have thought Zacchaeus's neighbours needed to hear, but did they think their audience needed to hear it as well? Given that this film was released the year after the United States entered the Second World War, it's hard not to think of that conflict in the background. And what of the use of Matt 5:20? To end on this passage - and to graft it onto a passage where it doesn't belong, in a story that neither passage belongs in suggests some kind of message intended for the audience.

It's not long however, Zacchaeus gets to meet Jesus. From a theological angle it’s perhaps significant that this is very much a film about Jesus finding the sinner and not the other way round. Indeed the film brings out some of the more available metaphors in the story which are easily overlooked solely by reading it. Zacchaeus isolated and to, an extent, tangled in the tree. It’s reminiscent of Absalom and also of the tree in the Garden of Eden: neither connection had really struck me before.

Jesus enters Zacchaeus's house and things largely proceed in line with the account in Luke 19:1-10, but there are more interesting ideas visually, not least the shot of one of the women of the house washing Jesus' feet. Zaccheus' wife had not been convinced about his career change, but was largely absent from the montage that charted his rise to power, but here she (?) takes the first active role in responding to Jesus, unwittingly aligning herself with the "woman of sinful life" from Luke 7.

The moment of Zaachaeus' conversion is also portrayed interestingly, with a double exposure of his face overlaying a montaged flashback of earlier scenes in the film. Looking back it's easy to smirk at this shot which seems a quite dated by today's standards, but it's easy to forget that this film was made just a few months after the release of Citizen Kane, and only 12 years after Vertov's Man With a Movie Camera, of which it's most reminiscent.

However, arguably the film's most satisfactory shot comes right near the end, as Zacchaeus leaves his house to return his ill-gotten gains to his victims. The moment (see below) is shot from inside the house, over the shoulder of Jesus who stands in the doorway. Zaccheus gradually diminishes as he moves towards the townspeople, gradually merging with them and so bringing the attention back towards his new Lord. It pairs perfectly with the shot over Zacchaeus's shoulder earlier in the film, suggesting both unity and, perhaps, substitution, with its connotations of atonement. It's a fitting end for a production that uses strong visual ideas and good filmmaking technique to elevate it above its humble origins.

On Angel Wings (2014)

In a year of many Bible films being released, one that rather flew under the radar is On Angel Wings, an animated retelling of the Nativity Story directed by Dave Unwin. Whilst Unwin was also involved with writing the screenplay, the main writing credits belong to children's author Michael Morpurgo who penned the book on which the film is based.

The book's original illustrations were by the great Quentin Blake, but Blake wasn't involved in this animated re-telling which came from a partnership between Illuminated Films, Jerusalem Productions and the BBC. As a result the characters are rendered rather differently from the book giving the new work a fresh feel and severing the tie with the original novel. There are some fairly bold choices in this respect as well. The sharp angular lines used for the angels contrast with the softer more rounded illustration for the human characters. It emphasises the other worldliness of the celestial visitors, as well as the fact that they have an importance, of sorts, as messengers of the king (of kings).

The other interesting decision regarding the animation is the way figures often hold more or less the same pose for a while before shifting to a new position. This gives the film the feel of an animate book, reminding viewers of the piece's literary roots.

For a humblish project such as this, the cast list is certainly impressive. The leading character, Amos, appears as an aging grandfather recounting the most singular moment from his childhood and the elderly Amos is voiced by Michael Gambon, in what will probably not be his most widely appreciated voice work on an animated children's film in 2014 (he's also in Paddington). Also involved are Juliet Stevenson as Mary, Colin McFarlane(Commissioner Loeb in The Dark Knight) as Joseph and Dominic Cooper (Captain America) as the Angel Gabriel.

As a production it's charming enough. Accessible for the younger children and generating a bit of extra interest for children up to pre-teens. However, it rather lacks having anything of substance to say about the Christmas story. Jesus is portrayed as a king but his supposed divine origins are rather watered down for a story based on an angelic visitation. Furthermore his ability to change the world is reduced simply to his ability to "bring us love, through which we will at last have peace and goodwill on Earth" and to "show us a better way of living". There's much truth in that of course, but "love" existed long before Jesus was born and hasn't yet brought any significant measure of peace. It's the significance of Jesus identity which makes the love Jesus embodies special, but the BBC's a bit too PC to mention all that. Indeed, the word "God" doesn't really feature at all.

The other notable weakness concerns the flashback structure, whereby the story is retold by the now elderly Amos. Despite the fact that Amos has kept in touch with Jesus' life as a adult he has never mentioned these events to anyone which contrasts rather strongly with the reaction of the shepherds in Luke. Did these amazing events change Amos' life at all? We're given no indication. It also leaves the "grandfather" section of the story in a time strangely unaffected by Jesus's life and death.

These shouldn't overlook the film's strengths. In addition to the animation there are also a few good lines for the adults to enjoy too, and a good bit of adventure. Indeed children will find it easy to relate to Amos - there's a good deal of character development is a relatively short period of time. The film also manages to walk the line between the best and worst of humanity's potential. Even if the final lesson "you have to keep believing in yourself" is a bit mawkish On Angel Wings will provide many families a good way to think about the true meaning of Christmas.

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On Angel Wings is available on BBC iPlayer until the 24th January 2015. The BBC website also features an article by Michael Morpurgo, some character profiles, clips and another article on the film. More details are available from the film's official website.

Heavenly Holiday Film Classics

Heavenly Holiday Film Classics is a collection of six lesser known Christmas films from days gone past. The majority go back to the fifties and sixties but at least one has their roots even further back. As a result these films are hard to get hold of and Festival Films has done a great service by collecting them and making them more widely available. But make no mistake, the films have not been digitally remastered or restored and Festival Films make no such claim.

Silent Night:A Story of the Christmas Carol (1953)
The first of two films on this DVD to look at the story of how "Silent Night" was written. This is the later film which focuses on the spread of the carol after an organ repair man chances upon the song in Oberndorf. Whilst this legend is popular, there's not a great deal pf evidence for it, in fact Wikipedia cites Silent Night historian Renate Ebeling-Winkler Berenguer as tracking this part of the story back only as far as 1965 - 12 years after this film (though it also mentions a 1947 play).

Christmas is Magic (1953)
Christmas is Magic is probably my least favourite of the six films on this DVD, although even then it's a nice film to look at even if the plot and the dialogue are rather weak. Frances Rafferty plays Julie, a young widow about to get remarried to the effortlessly grumpy, Christmas cynic, Brad. It's in this pairing that the plot first falters, aside from being stable, it's hard to really see what he has to offer her. Julie and her son Sonny meet an amnesiac war veteran by the Christmas tree in town, and when his Christmas cheer warms their hearts they welcome into their homes. If you're the type that loves Christmas schmaltz laid on thick then there's a chance you might enjoy this. This visuals do have a certain something. Unfortunately, on this one, I'm with Brad.

Star of Bethlehem (1956)
Star of Bethlehem (1956) is a film I've known about for quite some time, and been meaning to see, but never quite got around to it. It is one of the films available at the BFI's mediatheques. The original film apparently dates back to 1921, being the work of the German silhouette-animator Charlotte "Lotte" Reiniger (June 2, 1899 -- June 19, 1981). But in 1956 Cathedral Films re-released with narration in English.

The film itself is simply, but effectively made. Black silhouetted characters move in the foreground contrasting starkly with the film's coloured backgrounds. The simplicity of the medium should not be mistaken for a lack of sophistication however. The graceful, skillful movements are capable of evoking genuine feeling, the birth scene, for example, evokes surprising intimacy. The one notable change in style is the appearance of the angels to the shepherds. In contrast to the rest of the film, he its the angels who light up against a dark background.

The story is straight forwardly told, and whilst the medium and voiceover are both a little dated, younger children will still enjoy it. My 4 year old and 6 year old did at any rate.

Three Young Kings (1956)
Perhaps the best of the six films on offer here is Three Young Kings by director Richard Kinon. Kings tells the tale of three boys from the mission school who have the honour of playing the wise men in the village's traditional present-giving ritual. Parents provide presents for their children via the school and the eldest three children don magi costumes and go round the richer parts of town dishing round their gifts. But this year the trio take a short cut through the poorest part of the village and end up giving the presents away to those children instead - most of whom will not get presents. The pivotal scene is a delight with the three boys switching from mild annoyance at being inconvenienced to handing round other children's presents with gleeful abandon, but it's the final scene with echoes of the still-to-be-made Spartacus and 12 Angry Men in the mix that clinches it. The boy's main opponent is possibly a little too cartoon-like for my liking, but that fails to rob the story of it's genuine emotional wallop that makes it the film of all these likely to become a stable (sic.) of Christmas viewing in the Page household for years to come.

Star of Bethlehem (1954)
Star of Bethlehem (1954) was a pet project of actor James Mason who produced, directed and narrated the film and cast his own daughter as Mary.

It's an funny old project. The first half of the film consists of Mason dully narrating the nativity account from Luke. It's not helped by the use of a (now) fairly archaic translation, but Mason's famous voice is renders the story dull by its lack of intonation.

The second half however is very different, a charming adaptation of the story using children. Child actors can be a real hit-or-miss affair but these children do a decent job of playing their roles without swinging to far into honey-coated sentimentality. I'm not sure my kids would sit through the first half of this film again, but they would certainly re-watch the second part.

Starlight Night (1939)
The second "Silent Night" origins storyline the collection is actually the elder filmed in pre-war Austria in 1939. The timing of the film would have made it strongly political as it draws out parallels between Napolean's forced conscription in 1811 and similar events in the austria of their time, but its focus is more on the need for reconciliation once the conflict is over. These debates are focussed in on a single estranged family - a man who having lost his son in the hostilities can't forgive his daughter for marrying a survivor, not least because he is also the son of a survivor from a previous forced conscription. Even the birth of a grandson fails to melt the old man's heart. What is melting however is the snow above the young couple's house in the mountains, leaving the three of them homeless the night before Christmas.

Finding the family bedding down in a nativity-esque stable Father Mohr decides to take action, writing a song to accompany his homily on the scandal of unforgiveness and estrangement and when he teams u with Franz Gruber the world's most well loved Christmas Carol is born, leaving the old man defenceless to his grandson's advances. At times it's a little forced, but, I must admit, I'm a sucker for stories of reconciliation and, not for the first time whilst watching this collection of films, the odd tear might have been shed.

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All in all then an interesting mix of films with different degrees of quality effectiveness, emotion and religious content and for the completists, or those keen for a bit of nostalgic content this would make a great addition to your Christmas film collection.

Bibledex Project Complete

I've been watching with interest the progress of Nottingham University's Bibledex project - producing a short introductory video on each of the 66 books of the Bible - and I'm please to see that it's reached completion; all 66 films, along with a few extra features, are now online.

It's a great resource, featuring some well known theologians such as John Millbank and Anthony Thiselton, and will be really useful for the Through the Bible in Five and a Half Years course which I have been running. The final Old Testament session is in a couple of weeks, and I only wish that Bibledex had been available a year ago. Finding material on the minor prophets that is as well produced and informative as this has been a real struggle. Thanks and well done to everyone involved.

The Agent (2009)

The Agent is the third of Saltmine's trilogy of short films modernising the Jesus story. Like its predecessors (The Follower and The King) the film stars Richard Hasnip and is split into three short sections. But whereas The Follower was solely based on the Easter story, and each of the three parts of The King were about the Nativity, the three stories here are less obviously connected. What ties them together however is Hasnip's role as the eponymous agent who both features in, but also narrates his own story.

The agent is paid by the Sanhedrin to spot potential troublemakers, and gather evidence that can then be used to discredit them or to destroy them. Left to their own devices such zealots could cause Rome to intervene. Having heard about John the Baptist the Sanhedrin set the agent on the Baptist's trail, but when he witnesses an encounter between the Baptist and Jesus his curiosity is aroused. Following him into the desert he observes him for 40 days and so witnesses, first hand, his encounter with the devil.

The scene is notable for a number of reasons. We see White using a various techniques that go beyond his work in the previous films. As the agent looks through his binoculars the camera-work changes to a more hand-held style. We also see some special effects and CGI giving extra impact to the temptations. White must have been tempted (himself) to use these new techniques in various other places throughout the film, but, if so, he wisely reined in any such impulses. By using these two techniques here, and pretty much only here, it also emphasises the more psychological aspects of this scene.

The scene is strongly reminiscent of the same incident in Jesus (1999). Not only does it also use CGI to flesh out the temptations, but it also features a black-suited devil. This satan however delivers a nice line in dry humour and sarcasm that manages to inject a bit of humour without detracting form the gravitas the scene requires.

The other two episodes of the film tell the story of the woman caught in adultery (John 8) and the raising of Lazarus (John 11), as well as continuing the story of the unnamed agent. The Follower was effectively three separate films - even the format and style were different between the different parts - whereas The King was clearly one film with a couple of breaks. This film falls somewhere in between with the episodes of Jesus' life being essentially separate whilst the agent's story really only makes sense across all three parts. It could have hampered the production, but it actually makes using clips from the film easy, whilst still delivering a strong narrative when the film is taken as a whole. And there's a nice twist, of sorts, which brings the question of how it relates to our lives significantly closer.The other significant difference between this film and the earlier ones is that The Agent has a significantly bigger cast. In addition to Hasnip's role as the agent and Job Buckeridge's Jesus there are also a number of significant speaking roles (John the Baptist, Satan, the woman caught in adultery, Mary and Martha) as well as various smaller parts (disciples, Sanhedrin members, members of the crowd, mourners etc.). This has obviously given a number of opportunities to a large number of less experienced actors, and in general they do well with the difficult task of modernising a story set two thousand years ago. No easy task. The hardest role to pull off is of course that of Jesus, but Jon Buckeridge does reasonably well with an exceptionally difficult task. His is a passionate and human Jesus, although he doesn't have quite the force of personality that I suspect the real Jesus would have had.

Hasnip turns in another decent performance as the agent. As with the earlier films he is the only person to address the camera meaning we very much relate to him and experience the events that unfold through his point of view. It's interesting, then, that he's decked out in an orange boiler suit with strong echoes of Guantanamo Bay. This not only makes the audience sympathise with him, but it also subtly raises a few questions that go beyond the scope of the story. What does it mean that this Jewish member of the establishment is dressed like a Muslim anti-establishment terrorist? How would Jesus react to those suspected of terrorist acts.

It's the first time in the series that Hasnip has really interacted with the other characters, although generally it's as an observer (again playing the role of the audience), and there's an interesting contrast between his passivity in these scenes and the activity in the to-the-camera scenes. It's also the first time I've seen him work with someone else's script (though I'm sure he is no stranger to it), and whilst there are a couple of weak lines, Craig Edgar's script is generally fairly good, certainly the way it structures and frames the material works well.

The film's biggest weaknesses is the scenes with the Sanhedrin. They sit in a darkened room and the intention seems to be that they speak with sinister voices, but, if so, it doesn't really work. And whilst the script is clear that the Sanhedrin are very much under pressure from the Romans, it's impossible to sympathise with them in any way, so that we're left with the unfortunate correlation that the only Jewish figures who aren't also Christians, are the baddies.

Given that this is an independent film made on a low budget by a bunch of filmmakers whose primary goal is not Jewish-Christian relations, this is a fairly minor quibble, particularly as there are a number of strong points on display as well. White's camera-work is particularly note-worthy with its carefully crafted shots and interesting use of light and shade. And in a sense it's that which sums up the agent's story as much as anything else as having spent so much of his 'life' in the dark we finally see him squinting in the light.

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You can buy a DVD of The Agent or watch the trailer at Saltmine Trust.

The Beginning of the End

Peter Mackie has sent me a copy of this delightful short film about the Christmas story that he made with his two daughters Rachel and Joanna. Peter was keen to stress that it's not a professional film and so in that spirit I'd like to make a few brief observations.

The Beginning of the End is Luke's version of the Christmas story told in claymation. The obvious point of comparison here is The Miracle Maker especially as this film is very accessible for children. But whereas the Christmas scenes from The Miracle Maker feature both the shepherds and the wise men, here only the shepherds appear.

The other difference from The Miracle Maker is that The Beginning of the End is wordless apart from the (original) songs which narrates the story as it unfolds on the screen. The song is a little uneven but has a strong chorus which brings the film nicely to an uplifting and memorable climax.

The animation is clearly claymation proper (as in the modelling done with modelling clay rather than puppets), and whilst Nick Park and co. make it look effortless, it's surely one of the trickiest of all media to work in. Given that The Beginning of the End was made by a 13 year old, and 11 year old and their dad it's an impressive achievement.

As you might expect, some parts work better than others, but the interaction between Mary and Joseph conveys a real tenderness, which must have been difficult to pull off. It also give us angels that not only sing of their good news, but who dance as well. This is something of a new angle, largely unexplored in film so far. It gives us heaven's viewpoint on the events on earth - this isn't just heavenly messengers fulfilling their duty, but real joy in what is unfolding before them.

The film is available to buy on DVD, with proceeds going to the Barnabas Fund. To get a copy contact Peter Mackie through his website.

Elisha, God and the Bears

There's discussion amongst some of the other bibliobloggers about the story of Elisha and the She-Bears. Given that this is exactly the kind of story I'll be looking at in my Greenbelt talk "Biblical Horror Stories for Children" It was all started by David Ker who used the post as part of his Bad Boy Bible Studies series. The series viewpoint is that "Old Testament stories tell us more about humans than God. But that revelation comes in the context of a long trajectory of God’s dealings with humanity". I sort of agree with that, but the problems, for me at least, seem to come when Ker starts to apply them.

Essentially Ker holds that "The correlation of Elisha’s curse and the youth’s misfortune is purely coincidental." The problem is, for me at least, that whilst the author never states a connection outright, it is clearly implied by the plot requirements of the story. Firstly, as Ker actually states, the author "is establishing Elisha as the inheritor of Elijah’s power". But the source of this power is meant to be God. Secondly, if this event was interpretated as being purely coincidental, it's hard to see why it was included. Imagine if the bears hadn't taken action, would the story have merited a place in the Bible? Personally, I doubt it very much indeed. The Bible is history theologised. Coincidences are of no consequence. Thirdly, the specific mention of Yahweh's name (as opposed to merely saying that Elisha cursed them) prefigures that which is to come. Fourthly, and I concede I'm not best placed to state this, but my understanding was that in the mindset of the time, coincidences such as these simply didn't exist. God was responsible. To my mind, only those who start with the presupposition that the author couldn't possibly view God as responsible for such an horrendous act can conclude that.

Of course using the phrase "the author" raises the question of which author is intended? The person who witnessed the event? The first person to write it down? The person that wrote in the form we have in front of us? The book's final editor? Or all of those involved in the complex process of this story ending up in our Hebrew Bibles.

I first came across this thread on Doug Chaplin's Baldy, bad boys and the big bear: a strange Bible meme. Doug broadly agrees with Ker, although unlike Ker, he never states outright that the "correlation of Elisha’s curse and the youth’s misfortune is purely coincidental". Nevertheless, none of Doug's points of "methodological reflection" really cover the implicit suggestion that Elisha’s curse motivated God to send the bears to kill the boys." As I said in his comments

"It’s all very well saying “not everybody in the Bible is perfect or to be emulated” but when it’s implied that it’s God that does the killing then it’s another matter, surely? God’s action on Elisha’s behalf endorses, rather than opposes, his desire for vengance, which is why it’s such a troubling passage, for me at least."

I'm already regretting the use "it's all very well" which sounds Tom-Wrightily pompous and a little angry and shrill, but I can't edit the comment. Sorry Doug.

In Bad boys and big bad bears, Peter Kirk has a different approach. For him, Elisha "had within him the power and authority of God, with which he was able to pronounce a curse on the boys which was not mere words but had immediate effect. God answered it by sending the bears even though that was not a good thing." I think I find this answer a little more honest, but also a litle more troubling. In essence it says that God was responsible for killing the youths, even though he thought it was a bad thing. I suppose "responsible" is a bit of a slippery term. Kirk would presumably say that God delegated this power to Elisha, but Elisha abused it. I can see that point, though I'm a little unclear on how this power works (aren't we all?). The problem with it for me (assuming this never passes across God's desk prior to being actioned) is that this story is so consistent with other passages in the Hebrew Bible which portray God as the driving force for similarly brutal acts. Whilst I know chipping away at each difficult story in turn is a popular approach, after a while it just becomes clear that this is just an attempt to clear the Bible's name one step at a time.

Douglas Mangum adopts a similar position to Peter Kirk - the timing of the bear attack was not just coincidental. His explanation is slightly different however:

Rejecting or mocking the LORD's anointed (Elisha) was the same as rejecting or mocking Yahweh himself. That is the take-home point that I would use for a Sunday School class. Still, it is a bizarre story. I recommend you head over to read James McGrath's 11 different angles on this text. Here's my favorite.

Given that my Greenbelt talk will be looking at how unpleasant stories get taught more in children's groups than in grown-up church, the mention of Sunday School obviously stood out. Suffice to say I'm unlikley to send my kids to that particular class. That said, if you are seeking to justify this story then it seems to me that Mangum's take is the most coherrent linking this in to other places where God punishes people for mocking him. Three questions remain for me, however, firstly the proportionality of the response. 1 insult, 42 deaths seems a bit disproportionate I suppose. Secondly, exactly how proven is it that "rejecting or mocking the LORD's anointed (Elisha) was the same as rejecting or mocking Yahweh". It seems like a big assumption to me. Why did this not happen to Jesus, or today, or to Nehemiah? Finally, as is often the case with these passages, it's the inconsistency that is a problem. I guess I just touched on that, but why is this such an isolated example? Why doesn't it happen today.

Meanwhile, Tim Bulkeley sums up his theoretical sermon on it as "life is not fair, get over it!" in Watch out or the bears will get you!. He does apologise for the shortness of his response, but even so, seems to have overlooked the fact that the boys in question would not ever have the chance to get over it as they'd be dead.

As Bob MacDonald sheds some fascinating light on the language of the passage but leaves aside dealing with the actual question I'll move straight onto James McGrath's roundly praised response Bad Boy Bible Study. McGrath lists "11 semi-serious and not-so-serious approaches to the text that...are worth trying out".

My own response is to say that whilst the event was interpreted as an act of God, it was, in reality, a coincidence, the timing of which was so terrible that it stuck long in the minds of those who witnessed it, and was re-interpreted as an act of God as those who wrote and re-wrote it.

I guess most atheists would agree with that interpretation. The more agressive atheists out there would delight in citing this passage as evidence that the Bible is inconsistent, presents an angry vicious God and is therefore made up. But even though I sometime wonder if I should really be called a Christian agnostic, I find I can't accept the Godless explanation so readily.

For me the crucial point is that the Bible is inspired (though, as someone else in this discussion pointed out, it's not always inspirational), but that the story of God was revealed gradually from a starting point that was very far away from the truth. From an initial viewpoint whereby God was a localised deity, petty, fickle, venegeful, only on the side of his people and able to be bribed as to what to do, whereas, in reality, none of that uis true. It was a long drawn out process even to get to the point whereby Jesus could come and enough of it would stick, and the process of God's gradual self revelation is still going on.

In terms of this specific passage the lessons for us are different for the lessons for its original audience(s). For them it spoke of God's power, his faithfulness to people (I doubt the victim's side of things would have crossed their minds), that he listens, that he is active and so on. And many of those things we can take away from it as well.

For us though, aside from is being another small piece of a large jigsaw, there is something significant about the fact that the final version of the text omits the link between the curse and the bears' action. Not because in doing so it gets God off the hook - it doesn't and there are many other places in scripture where that link is made explicit - but because it's a gap in the text which God's light shines through. The text fails to make the crucial connection when, by it's own rules, it really should have. It's useful historical evidence of the fact that these people's knowledge of God was sorely incomplete, and indeed, it's also a reminder of the fact.

That's doubtless a bit woolly, but I guess I see God's revelation as being very gradual and limited by what is, in my mind, a flawed humanly produced (but God inspiured text).

To keep this relevant to Bible films, if you've not seen Don't Dis Elisha from Extreme Bible Stories, then you really should. It's very South Parkian, and all the better for it in my opinion.

Oh an my Greenbelt talk will be 6pm on Sunday 30th August in the YMCA tent.

Review: Oversold

On the surface Paul Morrell and Dave Cowan's Oversold is seemingly an unlikely sounding tale of a Pastor who travels to Vegas, falls in love with a stripper (though he's unaware of her profession at the time), and seeks to free her from the situation in which she is ensnared. But, it's deeper than that, Oversold is a multi-layered film which is not only a modernisation of the story of the Old Testament prophet Hosea, but also of Jesus's redemption of us.

At the centre of the story is Joshua, a young pastor travelling to Vegas to reconnect with his step-brother Ethan, and Sophi, who works in one of Ethan's clubs. Unaware of their connection, the two meet by chance, and, quickly fall in love.

A popular plot device in many romantic films is that of 'the hidden secret' such as Gregory Peck's undercover reporter in Roman Holiday, Richard Curtis in Some Like it Hot, or any one of the portrayals of Mr Rochester from Jane Eyre. Essentially it's a reflection of the way we all hide aspects of ourselves when we first meet people and struggle to free ourselves from the lies we projected to protect our inner vulnerability.Inevitably, Josh finds out and is deeply hurt, but as he prays about the situation he hears the voice he recognises as God's tell him to marry Sophi. It's here that the story blossoms into a modern parallel of the story of Hosea - the prophet who is told to marry Gomer, a prostitute. Of course we don't know the background between Hosea and Gomer, and she is, of course, a (temple?) prostitute rather than a stripper, but the similarities are certainly close enough for the film to make us look at the story in a new way. Apart from anything, it's interesting that a script written by a church leader concludes with the Hosea character (and his new wife) failing to find acceptance in his church and having to resign.

Like Gomer, Sophi returns to her dubious profession even after she has married Josh. Ethan, not only unmoved but angered by her redemption is threatening both her and Josh. The use of threats to explain, and in a sense justify, Sophi's actions makes for an interesting re-reading of the book of Hosea. Gomer, is usually viewed far less sympathetically, in part because she represents "unfaithful" Israel. But Israel, and perhaps even Gomer, also faced threats which may have gone some way to explaining their supposed apostasy.In the end both Joshua and Hosea buy back (or redeem) their wives, and yet again the parallels with Jesus come to the fore. The three names are all derived from the same root, meaning "salvation", and the film becomes more and more of a parallel of Jesus's act of redemption. This is, in fact, exactly what Cowan promises us at the start of the film, in one of several narratorial appearances in the film, but it's also a theme that has been woven into the story throughout the film. The movie opens during one of Josh's sermons. He's talking about the calling of Matthew from Matt 9:9-13. It's a clever starting point as it not only tells the story of a sinner catapulted into a new life by Jesus's love and grace, but it also quotes from the very book that the rest of the film is recontextualising - "I desire mercy, not sacrifice" (Hosea 6:6).

Perhaps the biggest indicator of this is not the film's portrayal of Joshua, but the character of Ethan. Ethan is without parallel in the book of Hosea. Whilst there are mentions of Gomer's lovers there is none of them who stands out as being responsible for her original situation, or her subsequent return.In fact, Ethan represents Satan in Jesus's quest for humanity's salvation. In a richly significant moment we see him dressed in red looking out across the city and reassuring himself that he "own(s) the town". It's not true of course - Ethan only owns a few clubs. But it evokes Satan during Jesus's temptation, taking him high above the city and making the similarly ludicrous claim that the kingdoms of this world were his to give away. The shot itself is reminiscent of a similar scene in Jesus of Montreal where a slimy lawyer offers that film's Jesus character the chance for fame. It's also interesting that the first time we see Ethan he is wearing a shirt with a cross sewn onto the back. It is, of course, a fake cross with no concept of grace, thus it's hardly surprising that Ethan forces Sophi to come back to work for him to pay off her supposed debt to him.

The film is surprisingly rich in this kind of symbolism. In a later scene Sophi cuts herself ending up with blood on her hands. Is this representing her being washed in Jesus's blood, or that fact that, like humanity in general his blood is on our hands. Indeed the film's visuals do much to convey its meaning on their own, which always suggests a strong grasp of the medium of film. The film's dialogue is also interesting. In places it's a little clunky, but, on reflection, this is most noticeable at the points in the story when this is, perhaps, what we'd expect in real life. Most courtships are a little clunky. I love the sharp, witty banter of Lauren Bacall and Humphrey Bogart in The Big Sleep, but for most of us the reality is different. We awkwardly stammer out a few words desperately hoping they will impress, rather than repel, the object of our affections. It's not Hollywood, but I can live with that.

What I did find surprising about the script, though, are screenwriter Dave Cowan occasional appearances to narrate, and comment on proceedings. Cowan is the pastor of a church of about 100 people based in Phoenix. The film has come about from his vision, and he deserves credit for producing such an impressive piece of work with such limited resources. Being able to draft in his MTV award winning friend Paul Morrell to direct is no doubt helpful but, even so, it's a real achievement. Cowan's intrusions onto the screen are a little unusual, and perhaps betray a lack of confidence in the rest of the production. But then perhaps itjust comes down to a question of genre /medium: is Oversold a dramatic short film or simply a beautifully shot sermon in the style of Rob Bell's Nooma series? Personally I would encourage Cowan and Morrell to pursue the former and leave expounding the meaning of their filmic text to the extra features on the DVD (or for when they show it in a church context). Whilst their work can and will improve, it's already good enough, and strong enough to speak for itself.

But the thing that impacted me most about the film was the way the role of Sophi was played by Crissy Moran, herself a former porn star. Moran herself admits that her former work in front of the camera required very little acting, and the same could almost be said here, because Oversold is, in fact, her story, a retelling of her discovery of God's love. There's a vulnerability and a subtle brokenness to her performance as if playing this role is still a little painful. But, the true story of redemption that underlies her appearance in this film is so moving it permeates Oversold, like light through a stain glassed window. And it's made all the more powerful by the knowledge that, in contrast to their movie counterparts, the church community behind Oversold did indeed welcome Moran so wonderfully demonstrating that freedom from our pasts isn't just something found in the movies.

Modern Parables

© 2008 Compass Cinema.

Jesus' parables have long presented filmmakers and storytellers with a dilemma. Not only are they good stories in and of themselves, but they have shaped our culture and influenced western society's manner of thinking. Yet at the same time, they are so influential and well known that it's incredibly hard to re-tell these stories and keep them fresh. Many of the parables rely on their punchlines for their sense of drama. That's lost when the story is so well known. It's like watching Sixth Sense again. Second time around you can admire it's craft, but it's never the same.

For feature film directors, the parables are also too short. Whilst occasionally you get someone like Richard Thorpe who makes a film like The Prodigal, few writers find much merit in padding out Jesus's ultra-short stories into a 90 minute movie. The Prodigal manifestly failed to inspire other filmmakers to do likewise, and with good reason. If modern-day filmmakers have even attempted to re-tell these stories they've kept it short, and usually animated. In other words most filmmakers either think better of it and do something else, or they press on and make a turkey. Or a cartoon.

So, as you can probably tell, my initial hopes for Modern Parables, a series of short, live-action, films based on six of Jesus's stories, were not particularly high. Thankfully, this series has bucked this disappointing trend. It's obvious from the packaging that the producers of this series have a great love for what they're doing and a determination to deliver the best product that they can. It's, no doubt, why the film is shot is lush high definition, why the cinematography is so involving, and why it manages to imbue many of the films with such emotion, and a sense of significance that befits the material.

© 2008 Compass Cinema.

It's to the producers credit that they are flexible enough to try different approaches depending on the material, rather than simply trying to apply a one size fits all template. So the first film is a comic look at the Parable of the Hidden Treasure (Matt 13:44). Rather than treasure, a man finds oil in his field. He sells everything he has at auction and a yard sale. The source material is a bold, colourful metaphor and the decision to re-tell it with comedy pays dividends.

Next up is Samaritan. Perhaps the most atmospheric of the lot, in parts it's almost entirely silent but is complemented by a moving strings sound track. Whilst it would have been near impossible to completely hide the twist, it's bold enough to put an evangelical Christian doctor in the role of the bad guy and a Arabic newspaper reading taxi-driver in the role of hero.

Similarly bold is its attempt to make sense of the Parable of the Shrewd Manager. It's one of those stories that has left many a theologian scratching his head over the years, trying their best to wade through a mire of unsatisfactory explanations. This version's strength is that it avoids over-interpreting the story. It's such a difficult parable to unravel 2000 years after it was originally uttered that the film simply opts to limit its interpretation to translating the story into a modern context. It also refuses to make its leading anti-hero more wholesome. The lack of a sympathetic character means that it's a less likeable film as a whole, but it's an honest presentation of what we find in the text. The result is that, for me at least, the parable really came alive for the first time. It's so good to see a Christian film that respects its audience's intelligence enough to leave them to figure it out for themselves rather than trying to force on them any one particular understanding.

© 2008 Compass Cinema.

No collection of of short films would be complete without one shot in black and white and The Widow and the Judge duly obliges. Again the images are poignant and beautiful, and Joanne Morgan gives a quiet dignity to the film's leading lady. The Judge isn't rounded out quite as well as Morgan's widow, and it's hard to understand why he acts as he does. But perhaps that was one of the original points of the story.

With The Sower the producers tried something a little more daring, no doubt because the Parable of the Sower is not really a parable at all but an extended metaphor. Instead of dramatising the story, it's a documentary based on an interview with a modern day grain farmer. Unfortunately this adventurous move doesn't really come off. Whilst it's one of the best-looking films in the series, the interviewee doesn't really hold the audience's attention. The concept behind this particular short means it is utterly reliant on a charismatic and engaging lead, and when he doesn't quite deliver, the film withers for lack of deep enough soil.

© 2008 Compass Cinema.

The final entry is interestingly titled Prodigal Sons. Once again the filmmakers attempt a novel approach, this time telling the story from the point of view of the elder son. Again the producers find a suitably apt parallel from modern life, and it's easy to sympathise with the elder son's plight. However, the film loses something when he addresses the camera directly. Still there are arresting images aplenty and the mellow country soundtrack is a wonderful accompaniment.

Each film is accompanied by a talk of around the same length and, like the shorts themselves, each takes its own approach. They'll work well for groups that enjoy an expert-listener model of learning whilst those who prefer straight out discussion make want to head straight for the material provided with the set.

But it's the individual films that are, rightly, this series' biggest attraction. The website for Modern Parables states that they want "to re-create the emotional immediacy that Jesus’ 1st-century audience felt when hearing the parables". And more often than not, they succeed.