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COMMENT by Andrew Dunn

With this issue of Refresh we take a look at spirituality and the cinema and the way engaging with reels of film throws light on life and faith.

There’s a growing realisation that film and the cinema is playing a significant role for many people which reaches far beyond entertainment although, as Richard Blake notes, “professional critics, film scholars and reviewers as a group look on religious concerns with bemusement at best, contempt at worst and label such films as sentimental, pious and anachronistic”. (From Peepshow to Prayer. Journal of Religion and Film (JRF) 6.2).

Despite that long held stance (still around today in some circles) there’s a rapidly expanding literature on film and spirituality/religion/theology available in many libraries and book outlets with websites proliferating and courses now being offered in some universities.

There has been a monumental shift amongst churches and Christians in my lifetime regarding film watching. There was a time when in Sunday Schools kids were taught the song which posed the question “What would you say to Jesus if he returned today and found you standing in the cinema queue?” (Frost and Banks Lessons from Reel Life. 5). Today film is used in a wide variety of ways to stimulate thought and faith: clips used in sermons, film discussion groups, outings to theatres as social activities as well as serious study of film as comment on society, life issues, theology and religion as much as upon culture, struggle, liberation, bondage, story telling, documentaries and comment on current concerns and political issues. The range is huge and can’t be ignored. The cinema is as influential today as the TV networks, radio and the print media, and probably more so with DVD’s and videos available for decades after a film first saw the light of a projector.

It has grown from small beginnings in the 1890’s when in France the Lumiere brothers first commercial screening of moving pictures took place in Paris in 1895 - at Number 14 Boulevard des Capucines (there’s a plaque there commemorating the event). Today there are so many films flooding through our cinemas with both the creators and cinema chains needing to turn a quick profit that it’s impossible to see more than a portion of them. As a result really good quality films seem to me to be fewer and farther apart. Film revenue from attendances at screenings is dropping. I read a comment that the Hoyts theatre chain now makes more money from their Candy Bars than from the Box Office for many screenings. Also, with the growth of use of DVD and Video players and home theatres most films are released for sale in DVD/Video format about the same time as films are released in the theatres with predictions that it won’t be long before these sales out strip attendance income. So things are a’changing.

Nevertheless cinema plays important roles in people’s lives. “I believe”, writes George Miller, “cinema is now the most powerful secular religion and people gather in cinemas to experience things collectively the way they once did in church.” (Frost & Banks 7). There is something communal in going to a theatre and being drawn deeply into a story that moves and challenges, entertains and invites reflection. But unlike church there’s no time to gather around and talk it over with the others who’ve sat with us in the darkness and followed it through. “Films are like dreams” Miller continues. “We congregate with strangers in the darkness of the cinema, it’s a kind of public dreaming, where we possess, most unconsciously, the more insistent concerns of our lives”.

The NZ Herald Editorial for Easter Saturday this year discussed the theme of redemption and we include it in this issue. Redemption is not only the central theme of Christian faith but of many good and great movies as well. Indeed a creative question when watching a film is to ask in what ways it is redemptive for its characters and situations and for the viewers.

There are various ways in which Christians can use movies. Some see them as evangelistic opportunities, others as discussion starters, others as ways of engaging with issues of real life that might not otherwise be seen or engaged with. Some see films as “visual parables” (McNulty). What if the act of movie going and watching has become a religious activity for many with its own rituals and temples as John Lyden suggests? I notice how religiously large quantities of popcorn, lollies, soft drink or coffee and icecream are consumed at the cinema, almost sacramentally one suspects! What if the communal aspect of film viewing has become a modus operandi for creating community that has its own life and vigour?

I trust there’s plenty of stimulating material in this issue to stir some creative thinking and ways of enjoying and using film to enrich life and faith.

FILMS, CINEMA  AND FAITH

To some people, Hollywood films are the polar opposite of anything spiritual, as indeed, many of them are. Nevertheless I have experienced some sublime moments in a darkened theatre, moments that are truly spiritual in that they have lifted my spirit, inspired me to live better, reinforced my faith that we are not alone in the universe, or challenged me to see some aspect of life in a new way. For me the presence of the numinous, the mysterious, uncontrollable movement of the Holy Spirit, can take place in the theatre while viewing a good film as surely as in a sanctuary resounding with the music of Bach or Watts.

Edward McNulty. Spirituality and Film in The Electronic Great Awakening. P.1.
www.pcusa.org/ega/more spiritualityfilm.htm

I believe cinema is now the most powerful secular religion and people gather in cinemas to experience things collectively the way they once did in church. The cinema storytellers have become the new priests. They’re doing a lot of the work of our religious institutions which have concretised the metaphors in their stories, taken so much of the poetry, mystery and mysticism out of religious belief, that people look for other places to question their spirituality.

Michael Frost. Eyes Wide Open. Albatross Books. 1998. 100.

Where do contemporary Americans receive our values and our images of ourselves and one another, of our social world, and of our relation to the natural world? As a society, we do not primarily get our informing images from the walls of church as historical Christians did; we get them from the media culture in which we live. Movies, television, magazines, and billboards saturate us with images, images that have accumulative effects.

Margaret Miles. Seeing and Believing – Religion and Values in the Movies. Beacon Press 1996. 3

If the root of art is storytelling, then the taproots are longings. Longings for such things as truth, beauty, romance, adventure. We long to find the true north that will guide us through this life and into the next. We long to see some vestige of Paradise that hasn’t been spoiled by sin. We long to love and be loved, truly, purely, romantically. We long for something noble inside us to be awakened, rousing the hero within us to answer the call to adventure. A screenwriter takes these abstract longings and turns them into a series of concrete images.

Reflections on the Movies. Cook. 2000. 31.

A cinema, if it’s run with the right intention, can do an enormous amount to bring a strong sense of identity to a community. Any art form could do this, but cinema is the easiest one to work with. You can put on a Gilbert and Sullivan – but you can’t do it every weekend.

Andrew Pike, Report on country cinemas for the NSW Film and TV Office. In Frost and Banks, Lessons From Reel Life. Openbook Pub., Adelaide. 2001. 16.

The interaction between faith and film is more about a dynamic encounter than a critical analysis of fine detail. It is about identifying those points of similarity and difference, comfort and challenge, harmony and dissonance that exist between the film story and faith story of the viewer. This emphasis on encounter preserves the integrity of film and acknowledges its potential to affect a person’s spiritual life.

Ian Maher. Faith and Film. Grove Books Ltd. No. Ev59 2002. 11.

I don’t think we fully understand yet the need of people to gather together to listen to a story and the power of that act.

George Miller.

The question remains: If this is a post-Christian, post-religious secular world, at least in the industrialised West, why do the movies go back to the well of religiosity so often – and at times despite themselves – so effectively and ultimately so profitably? And why do audiences respond so favourably as frequently as they do?

Richard Blake. From Peepshow to Prayer: Toward a Spirituality of the Movies. Journal of Religion and Film. Vol. 6 No. 2.

I am not … the first person writing about religion and film to observe that there is a religious power present in the cinema. However, no one has systematically and thoroughly developed this insight as a basis for developing a method for religion and film studies, … a method of understanding film as performing a religious function. … I have viewed film as having an independent religious significance (and not simply) as dialogue partner for theology.

John C. Lyden. Film as Religion. NYUP 2003 3ff

FILMS AS PARABLES by Martin Stewart

We live in an image culture.  Moving images are available at the flick of a switch and have been for a good long time now.  These images have a huge influence over us.  I am wary of them because of this.  They can be and often are used to manipulate people.  They are very powerful because people believe that what they see is what is true.  I don’t hold to this view.  Images, like word of mouth, are only ever interpretations of events.  Lies can be told with images as well as words.  But the converse is also true – images can convey truth.

Jesus lived in an image culture as well.  He didn’t have movie cameras but the stories he told fired the imaginations of his listeners.  Living as we do in a moving image culture is quite a lot of fun (I love movies) but it is also costly because something of the imagination is lost whenever we project.  A well-told story that we hear enables us to create our own landscapes and people-scapes.  Whereas, whenever we project, our imaginations are confined by the film-maker’s vision. I enjoyed Peter Jackson’s Lord of the Rings trilogy very much.  But I didn’t need it.  Reading the books several times in the past had been quite satisfying and I could see people and places without the aid of his cameras. And, unlike every female I know, I didn’t like Jackson’s Aragorn – the voice was all wrong!  Nor, for that matter have I ever seen an adequate portrayal of Jesus in the movies.  The best one I can think of was in Godspell, but I suspect that was only because I liked his tee-shirt!

I have begun in this way because I think that some kind of warning is necessary about what visual stories can and cannot achieve.  Films have limitations.  Films are not truth, just as stories are not truth.  Films are not the definers of morality, thus we can watch them without that expectation!  Films are not the determiners of our values, thus we should think and talk about them and help rob them of any false notions they have of their importance.  Instead, films give us insights into what it means to be human, and often in provocative ways.  We can learn about ourselves and also have other possibilities opened for us.

Alan E. Lewis articulates what I am trying to say very well: “Stories [parables] are extended analogies; and by their nature and form as stories they openly announce that they are only analogies, merely approximations and pointers to the truth.  The directness with which narrative approaches us, is matched by the indirectness with which it approaches God.  In consequence, stories both acknowledge God is beyond description and comprehension, and yet demonstrate vividly that God can be known and understood.” (Between Cross & Resurrection. A Theology of Holy Saturday p21). Alan Lewis also makes the comment that parables are intended to shock us, shake us, change us and transform us.  Film offers us the same possibility that parable does.  Jesus, when he walked on earth, didn’t have film, but he does now.  By his Spirit we believe that Jesus speaks into our lives.  What is he saying through film? 

Is it reasonable to say that every film has a parabolic possibility in it?  Why not?  Even a film that is dark and hopeless offers us opportunity to ponder what light and hope could bring into the situation. 

Of course some films will offer windows into the ways of God more easily than others.  Some will firmly point us to the ways of God in how they address certain issues and the lives of certain people.  They will be safer movies for an audience who will only tolerate movies with easily accessed morality themes (and will probably have been made by Disney Corporation!)  Most kids movies open up the possibility for discussion about right and wrong.  But I hope that there might also be the opportunity to go beyond ‘God as the definer of right and wrong.’  Can we help our young people to look out for the Christ-like characters in movies?  All people can look for the signs in a character’s journey that reveal the many ways that God’s Spirit of love can and does prompt all of us.

I love the way that movies give us insights into the dilemmas of human life.  They can expose the dimensions of evil, temptation, anger and lust, as well as the triumphs of love, loyalty, compassion and hope.  Films are also great revealers of our folly (especially within the church) – we meet too few robust earthy Christians in the movies.  What does that say about how we come across in society?  For my money the best portrayal of God in the movies has been by Morgan Freeman in Bruce Almighty.  Why does the church not see the deep sense of fun that is in God? 

As in Jesus’ parables, movies often provide us with insight into the ways of God through the characters of the little, the least, and the lost.  Through them we are enabled to face the complexities of our own struggles.  They can be prompters for prayer, reflection and growth.  What a resource they are for the church to be able to engage with our culture!

Here’s a few movies that offer some opportunity for reflection:

Kind of tame ones: Babette’s Feast, The Man Who Sued God, Bruce Almighty, Dead Man Walking¸ The Spitfire Grill, The Shawshank Redemption, Billy Elliot, ET, The Power of One, Lost in Translation, Places of the Heart (The communion scene at the end is a powerful witness to the final hope we have in Christ in whom all things will be made new), and Millions (where hope and imagination act as vehicles for redemption, in contrast to the ‘money falling from the sky’ nonsense so prevalent in our culture).

Rougher ones: (for those who have problems with sex, blasphemy, violence or foul language)

Love Actually (I love the way this movie unfolds the complex nature of relationships, people’s choices and the possibilities of love… Rowan Atkinson’s angel character is wonderful!), Dead Poet’s Society (Choose life!), Amelie (I love the alternative reality she sees and brings about – kind of like Jesus’ ‘kingdom of God’), Life is Beautiful (does the same thing by creating a parallel reality that offers a child hope and freedom), A Very Long Engagement (blessed hope!), and The Village (can we really live apart from the world, and what does love do with fear?).

Very provocative movies where ‘God’ turns up unexpectedly: Once Were Warriors (see what Grace provokes), Magnolia, Dogma, and Crash. I watched Crash as I wrote this article and loved the way that hope and redemption came from unexpected places.  The opening lines offer some insights into what we lack in modern society:  “It’s the sense of touch… any real cities you walk you brush past people – people bump into you.  In LA nobody touches you… we’re always behind this metal and glass… I think we miss that touch so much that we crash into each other just so that we can feel something.” What would the church want to say regarding what the transforming love of God is all about?

Why not get a small group together and explore the ways that films can challenge, provoke and even witness to the way that God is with us in Christ. Work out your ‘taste’ parameters (like, can you cope with the ugliness of the world or not? and are you able to cope with the possibility that God might speak through a film maker who does not respect your traditions, viewpoints and notions of morality?); arrange manageable weekly or fortnightly evenings, maybe in a four session block for a start; and choose a series of movies to watch and talk about setting aside a good half hour after the movie. 

Here are some possibilities of things to look for…

What echoes of the ways of God emerge in the film? 

What has been Christ-like in what we have seen?  Is this a surprise?

What insights have we received into the human condition and our own struggles?

What most challenges us?  Have our frames of reference changed having watched this?

Where would we begin to offer theological insight into the situations presented?

In what ways might the church begin to grapple with the worlds that have been revealed to us?

Have fun at the movies!

JESUS AND PARABLES

He also said, “With what can we compare the kingdom of God, or what parable will we use for it? It is like a mustard seed, which, when sown upon the ground, is the smallest of all the seeds on earth; yet when it is sown it grows up and becomes the greatest of all shrubs, and puts forth large branches, so that the birds of the air can make nests in its shade.”

With many such parables he spoke the word to them, as they were able to hear it; he did not speak to them except in parables  …

Mark 4:30-34. NRSV 1990

Psalm 119:19 I am but a pilgrim here on earth:

how I need a map – and your commands are my chart and guide.

I watched the film, Travelling Birds

overwhelmed by beauty

awed by design features which see

lightweight bundles

of bones and feathers

brave storms

headwinds

hunger

exhaustion

cross thousands

of miles of ocean

to arrive at destinations

planted deep within

by you, God

I can get lost anywhere

jokingly convinced

you put my direction-finder

in upside down

or that you’d temporarily run out

when it was my turn

It helps to allow myself time

to get lost at least twice

on the way to new places

and not to mind the helplessness

of honestly not knowing

north from south

I think of this life

as a long journey, God

of times when there seems to be

no sense to the road

when signposts are few

and eyes are weary

of searching through dark clouds

But always your voice reassures

your smile promising you’re with me

that you’ll never leave

but see me safely home

I know when I cross

the last border

when temporary goodbyes

have been waved

my pilgrim days will end

in the place of your heart

the place of deep comfort

the place you dreamed of bringing me

before the first flower

perfumed Eden’s garden

Anna Johnstone.

Crosswalk. 2006. P20.

“THERE AND BACK AGAIN” by Doyll and Lorolie Andrews

Years ago I listened as my new friend, John Franklin, told my young children stories about his home, New Zealand.  The stories fired my imagination and created a longing to see this amazing, wondrous place.  For the next 30 years, however, raising four children on a pastor’s salary meant that reading about New Zealand and hearing John’s stories were the only way I could experience the wonders of New Zealand. 

All that changed when Peter Jackson made the Lord of the Rings trilogy.   In college I had read Tolkien for the first time.  The characters and the land of Middle Earth came to life in my imagination.  Even then I could relate to the themes of pilgrimage, fellowship, loyalty, and grace that permeated the books.  Then came the day that I stood outside the theatre waiting to see the movie that would bring these two disparate pieces of my life together.   As we stood there, I told my wife some of the stories I had heard years before about the country whose land we were about to visit.  My heart raced as the beauty of the place unfolded on the screen.

Then last year, God provided us with resources to plan and take a trip to New Zealand/Middle Earth.  We prepared.  The map we ordered was one that noted the film sites.  We secured Ian Brodie’s Lord of the Rings Location Guidebook.  We watched all three movies over again with map and book in hand, paying special attention to the surroundings.  What had been for us a “setting” became its own powerful presence, a character in the action, a shaper of the drama.  Even before reaching its shores, New Zealand had reached to us.

But we had no idea how the land would enfold us in the drama itself.   And we had no idea how The Lord of the Rings would draw us forth on a spiritual journey, a pilgrimage thirty years in the making.

Our first stop after leaving Auckland (April 12, 2005) was Matamata - Hobbiton - a logical place to start, since that’s where Tolkien and Jackson had started their story of the journey.   We looked forward to walking the green fields of the Shire.  What we discovered was that the original sets were gone.  In their place was a tourist site that bore little resemblance to either the story or the Shire.  Its poor attempt to re-create the beauty that the master had created is typical of what we humans try to do.  We try to recreate what God has created without the Master’s help  and end up with an empty shell of what had once been.  So we decided to simply read the brochure and use our imaginations.

After that disappointment, we arrived at Palmerston North in the dark, in the middle of a rainstorm, and pulled up in front of the house.  Out came John Franklin, running barefoot to welcome us enthusiastically, warmly, with dinner, into the fellowship of his family.  We were home even though we had never been there before.  That, too, is how God welcomes - extravagantly, warmly, even when we arrive late, in the dark, in the rain, often lost.  We pull up in front of a well lighted house, and the householder runs out, warmly welcoming us home to a place we’ve never been before, but have long dreamed of being.  

John and Trish took us to our next Lord of the Rings film sites in Tongariro National Park.   Mt. Ruapahu, wrapped in clouds, dominated the horizon!   We drove up the mountain through fields of rock rubble.    We parked, eager to climb to the top of the volcano, but, sadly, 113 km/h winds had shut the chairlift down for the day.  Consequently, we explored the areas where the Orks had marched through Mordor, taking Frodo and Sam prisoner.   We, too, were taken captive by the dark, ominous, jagged rocks looming forebodingly around us.  But the soaring rock escarpment and the beauty of the valley outstretched below snatched our breath away.  This monumental place transported us above the world into epic dimensions.

We found the stream where Gollum had fished.  The water was low, so I climbed over the fence and, crouching between the boulders, imitated Gollum’s movements,  remembering how Frodo and Sam had watched Gollum, torn between doubting this misshapen creature and wanting to trust him because he was their only guide. 

A few feet farther, the stream cascaded over the brink in a tall, ribbon waterfall, which slashed knife-sharp into the small pool below.  It had been in that pool that Gollum’s battle with trust had taken place – should he obey Frodo’s call?  His master said to come to him and trust him.   But when he did, he was immediately arrested by Faramir.  Writhing, he screamed at Frodo and accused his master of betraying him, not realizing that Frodo had saved his life from Faramir’s archers. 

Again and again as we traveled and stopped at LOTR sites, the location and the story spoke to us, sometimes loudly and some times quietly, of trusting God.  All Gollum had to go on was his master’s call to take an action he did not fully understand.  For us, standing in that place and reflecting on it later, the lesson resonated deeply.  At times in life and in ministry all that is left for us is to hold on to our call and respond faithfully, even if we cannot see where it may take us.

At dusk, we followed the road signs to the Rangitikei River where sections of the River Anduin were filmed.  Trusting the signs, we traveled kilometers into the back country over a twisting, seemingly rarely traveled road.  At the bridge the gigantic gorge took our breath away.  We gazed up at the sheer cliff walls and down at the river which had carved them - flowing some 80 meters below.  

As we walked off the bridge, we saw a sign for Bungee jumping.  Like the drive to the gorge and the fellowship’s sojourn down the river, it was a lesson in trust and commitment.  It read, “If you can’t jump, turn around and push yourself off.”  How often in life have I have faltered, not trusting God, afraid to step out in faith.  Even after following God’s signs, I linger on the edge until I finally push myself off and find I am held and supported by the cords of God’s fellowship.

The trust-lessons kept coming.  In the Queenstown area we had dreamed of riding   horseback into Rivendale, forest home of the elves.   So the disappointment was  huge when the stables said, “No horses available.”  We consoled ourselves with the thought that we could still drive from Te Anau to Queenstown and do the touristy Shot-over River jet boat thrill ride that a friend at home had said was a “must do.”  While I make phone reservations for that, however, Doyll found a brochure for a jet boat ride there in the Te Anau area.  He held out the bright yellow flyer, “How about we take this one instead?”  I said, “Fine with me, but Doyll are you sure you want to give up the Shot-over ride?”  He nodded, “ I think so.” 

So I called Luxmore Jet Boat Rides.   Did they have room?  “Sure at 1:00 p.m.”  Ahmm.  Anything open in the morning?  “Could be.  What time? 11:00?”   I held my breath:  “Like, we’re ready now.”   It was 10:00.   “Okay. We’ll be there at 10:30.”  

A bright yellow shuttle bus pulled up right on time.  The driver greeted us and opened the door for us.  We were Mark’s only passengers.   As we drove along, I spotted some Lord of the Rings film-site books on the console.  “Why do you have those books here?”  “Well, 90 percent of the people who come on our rides are interested.   We show you four film sites.”  

I looked at my husband, “DID YOU KNOW THIS?!”   He smiled and nodded yes.  I enveloped him with a hug and a kiss.   “You knew this!  That’s why you gave up the Shot-over ride?”   Yes.  Here I thought he had sacrificed, but he knew there was something better.

At the river launch site Doyll told the boat pilot how when we’d cancelled our  Shotover Ride, they’d told us we were making a mistake, that this ride couldn’t begin to rival the thrill of their ride, and were we sure we wanted to cancel?   The boat pilot smiled, “Yeah, we don’t claim to be that wild.”

And he proceeded to give us the ride of our lives.   “When I signal like this (he circled his hand in the air above his head), hold on to the bar in front of you.”   It was a spin, almost 360 ^o - at 50 kilometers an hour!   I screamed and laughed, “Could you do it again?”  He did. Time after time!   We got our thrill!

But the rain came, pelting us.   “Do you want to go back?”  Lex asked us.   “No,” we said, “We have our rain gear.”  

We proceeded along the Waiau River, used to portray parts of the River Anduin.  Lex showed us film spots as we imagined the Fellowship starting their journey from Lothlorien down the same river we were traveling.

As we emerged onto Lake Manapouri, the rain had stopped, and across the lake loomed mountains, swathed in mists.   Here, for us, were the “Misty Mountains,” majestic, mysterious, ethereal.   “The grey mist lifted – and we saw in the distance a white shore, a green land…”   Lex cut the motor, and we rocked in silence for long moments, the waves lapping at the boat.   “I’ve been on this river 30 years,” he said quietly, “And I’ve never seen it like this.”   

We floated in silence, aware of the amazing way God had brought together Tolkien’s story, Jackson’s movie, and 30 years of dreams into three weeks of  incredibly grace-filled experiences. 

Here was the highlight of our journey to New Zealand - people, land, rain, river, lake, mountains, and the story all conspiring to draw back the veil on God’s plan – blessing us far beyond what we could have dreamed. 

 HOPE - SAMWISE GAMGEE’S SPEECH

The Two Towers DVD – track 52.

Frodo Baggins: “I can’t do this, Sam”.

Sam: “I know. It’s all wrong. By rights we shouldn’t even be here. But we are. It’s like in the great stories, Mr Frodo, the ones that really matter. Full of darkness and danger they were. And sometimes you didn’t want to know the end because how could the end be happy? How could the world go back to the way it was with so much bad happened?

But in the end it is only a passing thing. This shadow, even darkness must pass. A new day will come. And when the sun shines it will shine out the clearer. Those were the stories that stay with you, that meant something, even if you were too small to understand why. But I think, Mr Frodo, I do understand. I know now. Folk in those stories had lots of chances of turning back, only they didn’t. They kept going because they were holding on to something”.

Frodo: “What are we holding on to, Sam?”

Sam: “That there’s some good in this world, Mr Frodo, and it’s worth fighting for!”

YOUNG  ADULTS GROUP  AND  FILM by Digby Wilkinson

I love film. I enjoy escaping to the living room when the kids are in bed, at school or some other place and absconding to the digital world of a talented director. This being the case, it would be fair to say I have seen a few films. However, because I’m in my forties, I’m not completely of the generation that is referred to as ‘post-literary’ because I also enjoy reading. Yet, I will be honest and declare I like a good movie over a good book because it’s visual, audible, emotional and cognitively engaging in very short period of time! Maybe I am just lazy? Yet I think my declaration is in fact one of the great challenges to Christian spirituality in our visual world of digital video.

Experience tells me that the challenge of a good book is more inspiring than any film can ever be, principally because we need to invest so much time and attention to truly engage with a written story. If you like, we are forced to create visual scenes from our own interpretations of the material, thus making the experience unique. This also has the effect of engaging us emotionally, cognitively and critically at much deeper levels than any film requires of us; in film the interpretive work is already done. So, given the sheer volume of films available through cinema, DVD and video, it seemed like a good idea to teach the art of spiritual reflection and critique to the young adults who raid our home on a weekly basis.

A little over two years ago, Jane and I decided to begin a young adult’s home group for our church community. By young adult I mean people roughly between the ages of 19 and 30ish. Even though we had run such groups before, we decided that the group activities would need to be multi-faceted in order to both keep people’s attention and be effective in facilitating any kind of spiritual growth or nourishment. So, one of the monthly activities is to watch a movie. Actually, film has been an integral part of what we do and has been more than worthwhile if the conversation and ongoing referral back to certain movies is anything to go by. We usually watch a movie one night a month (other nights follow a loose programme of spiritual formation, bible study, guest speakers, social stuff) with reflection happening straight after or the following week.

There are three areas to our discussion of the film we watch. Firstly, what message is being communicated about life’s themes? For example – love, hope, hate, the human heart, forgiveness, redemption, joy, celebration, creation, beauty and priorities; all images that are foundational in Christian expression. Secondly, in what way did the film shape the way we ‘felt’ about ethical behaviour? That is, what were the subtle messages that bypassed our critical thinking? For example, in many movies we noticed that it was easy to accept abhorrent ‘means’ because good ‘ends’ were achieved in the story. In such cases our emotions overrode our critical faculties and it was only in later discussion that we could see how a film’s values were incompatible with Christian life despite the happy ending. Finally, in what ways were we engaged spiritually? What did we feel about the spiritual themes and what did we think about them? Once again it is the discussion afterwards helps us to see the things we missed along the way. Group insights are the heart of the discussion.

At a practical level we have to confront the reality that most of us don’t watch movies to critically pull them apart, rather we watch them for pure enjoyment. This being the case it is rare that we choose something everyone likes. For some people only Jane Austin can spin their wheels. Others are only inspired by Arnold Schwarzenegger and Bruce Willis, and then there are the few who watch anything – indiscriminately. So, even though we ask the group for ideas about what to watch, we choose on the basis of two purposes. Firstly, we watch film to see what we can discover about God and life as people embodying the life of Christ in the present. And secondly, to learn the art of enjoying and critically evaluating film, acknowledging that useful critique can only be helpful when done with others. Having run our group the way we have for two years now, we can see the benefits unfolding in the group as people discuss and listen, and also for individuals who now reflect more fully on their own experience of media in general.

From my perspective, watching movies and engaging in the discussion afterwards, has reinforced our belief that we cannot do the Christian life in any honest way on our own. Even though I think that I am reasonably aware of my blind spots in life, discussing the values, ethics and spiritual insights found in movies with people from different backgrounds and ages constantly reminds me how ‘defined’ my view and experience of daily life is. I observe that this is the experience of those in our group too.

Below is a list of movies that we have watched over the last 18 months. I have excluded those considered abject failures.

•        Les Miserables

•        Hotel Rwanda

•        Born into Brothels

•        What Dreams May Come

•        Colour of Paradise

•        The Station Agent

•        I am Sam

•        Spitfire Grill

•        Maria Full of Grace

•        The Legend of Bagger Vance

•        Luther

APPROACHING THE CINEMA PRAYERFULLY by Edward McNulty

At my film and theology seminars I try to persuade people: to see a significant film at a theater first, rather than waiting for it to come out on video. To enter the theater with the same attitude or spiritual preparation that they enter a church sanctuary. (As with worship, a silent, short prayer for illumination is appropriate; and at the end of the film, if it has turned out as hoped, a prayer of thanksgiving.) To look for some sign or symbol that the same Spirit involved in the process of making the film will also speak to the hearts and minds of the audience as well. And to try to go with someone else, even better, a church group, so that they can share with and enlighten one another concerning what they have experienced. This latter is as important to appropriate fully the film experience as it is for the Christian in specifically Christian worship and study. “All of us will see more than one of us,” is almost a mantra for me. Not every film can be a channel for the Spirit to touch our hearts. And not everyone will be so touched by even a visual parable film. There is always the matter of the right, or kairos, moment, which might be different because of our unique backgrounds and personalities. But for those with “eyes that see and ears that hear,” open to the gentle stirring of the Spirit, sooner or later, even their film viewing can become a time of spiritual enrichment.

From The Electronic Great Awakening. Spirituality and Film. www.pcusa.org/ega/more/spiritualityfilm.htm

THE CAVE by Warren Deason

Many writers on film quote Plato’s famous allegory of the cave (Republic Book 7).

Imagine, he says, a cave that contains prisoners who are shackled by their hands and feet. Their head is also restrained in such a way as they can only face in one direction, toward the wall of the cavern.

Beyond them is a fire and, between the prisoners and the fire, a walkway upon which are carried all manner of objects. These objects cast moving shadows which play out on the wall in front of the prisoners and the captives take these to be real objects.

Those who carry the objects also speak, their voices echo around the cavernous chamber, the prisoners believing that these voices come from the shadows they see on the cave wall.

The allegory goes on to talk about what might happen if the captives were released and what they would make of the situation if they were led into the light. But it is the first section of the allegory which prefigures in a quite uncanny way the cinematic experience. What seems to be real and often intensely vivid, is really only insubstantial, illusory, a mere shadow on the screen. Yet the power of these flickering images and their capacity to mimic reality is one of film’s powerful effects.

As one writer put it, “Films are felt by the audience long before they are understood” (Marsh & Ortiz, Explorations in Theology and Film. p38)

Religion and Film. Report on sabbatical leave. Westminster College, Cambridge.

THE ‘WHAT IF...?’ OF MOVIES by Jeff Whittaker

Let me confess: While I enjoy watching movies I am neither a movie addict nor a movie expert. I am, however, someone who regularly samples a range of movies, often at the recommendation of my kids. As well, because I lecture part-time for Carey Baptist College in the area of Christian spirituality, I have been exploring how movies deal with spiritual themes. I use clips of movies to enhance my teaching.

What, then, have I discovered as I have reflected on my movie diet? Interestingly, but maybe not surprisingly, many movies deal with spiritual themes. Perhaps if I were to say that movies are inherently mythic, then maybe most or all deal with spiritual themes - like the battle between good and evil - at some level. That’s not particularly helpful, and so I’ve been looking for more obvious parallels between movies and the Christian gospel. In some movies like The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe, the parallels are obvious and intentional. The Matrix presents another obvious parallel, though in a darker – even apocalyptic - vein. There was a time when I considered that movies of this ilk would furnish me with opportunities to discuss with sceptical friends the truth of the gospel. The few occasions when this has actually happened has led me to value my movie watching more for the opportunities to explore aspects of my own Christian world-view. In particular, I have found myself asking: What if this view being presented here actually captures something of the gospel that I have been unable to see clearly before now?

It is from this perspective, then, that I would like to describe the impact of four movies. The first is a satire on American evangelical Christianity called Saved. Set in a Christian high school, it explores the relationships between a group of Christian teenagers grappling with issues such as faith, teenage pregnancy (interestingly in parallel with Mary’s pregnancy with Jesus), homosexuality, conformism, and other issues. As I reflected on the movie, I found myself asking: What if the outcasts actually succeeded in creating a truer community of love than the kids who remained stuck in their undeveloped religiosity? What if our religious structures or behavioural expectations predispose us to hypocrisy, rather than the freedom promised us in the gospel? One powerful image has remained. Just before the end of the movie, Hilary-Faye – the main ‘good girl’ character, drives her vehicle into a huge plywood image of smiling Jesus. The head snaps off the image, and Hilary-Faye staggers off into darkness. For me, this communicated the beginning of a new stage of Hilary-Faye’s spiritual journey, one no longer dominated by a cheesy image of Jesus.

Next on my list is a crazy movie called Dogma. The people who made this movie obviously had a lot of fun. (Drawing on my background in sewage engineering, I enjoyed the depiction of the shit-demon, an entity that arose from a festering, overflowing toilet to accost people with excrement projectiles, only to be subdued by air-freshening asphyxiation.) But underneath the almost slap-stick and certainly irreverent humour was a serious question: What if God was put in the position of contradicting justice because of undeserved grace? Would the universe indeed dissolve in the throes of the divine tension? This raises all sorts of questions for me, particularly around issues of heaven and hell. While some may find it tempting to simply assign hell to oblivion, that’s too easy a solution which doesn’t honour the need our human brains have for thinking in dyadic patterns. (See The Mystical Mind by Eugene d’Aquili and Andrew Newberg.)

I was alerted to the movie Contact by a student to whom I taught Christian spirituality at BCNZ’s Christchurch Branch a few years ago. In the past I have tended to be a little impatient with movies that postulate the existence of aliens. What I now realise is that many of these movies allow us to explore issues around divine/human interaction. But what really caught my eye in Contact was the struggle the principle character – atheistic scientist Ellie Arroway – had to convince her peers that her contact with aliens really did occur when all the evidence that they had to go on suggested that she could not be right. I found myself asking: What if our efforts to persuade our unbelieving contemporaries is doomed to be like this, until they themselves experience what we have experienced? Have we, in our desire to be absolutely clear in our explanations of how faith works, obscured the opportunity to help people explore their religious experiences. This is the contention of Paul Hawker in his book Secret Affairs of the Soul, in which he describes how Christians and churches are often the last place people choose to reflect upon their spiritual experiences because of our perceived intolerance of anything that doesn’t fit our models.

Finally, I enjoyed Jim Carey’s depiction of being given divine powers in Bruce Almighty. The plot revolves around a character called Bruce whose accusations about being able to do God’s work better than God land him with the opportunity to do so. The results of course are chaos. Whenever I find myself musing: What if I got the opportunity to straighten out this situation; then we’d see some action? I remember this movie and enjoy a chuckle at my pretensions.

In conclusion of this brief review, then, dear reader, let me state again that I enjoy watching movies. But as well as that, I enjoy movies for the opportunity they give me to reflect on aspects of my own faith that maybe would remain undisturbed otherwise. Maybe you can try the: What if...? experience next time you watch a movie that seems to put forward a spiritual theme.

THINKING ABOUT MOVIES

Here are some terms and ideas that help in analysing films:

Characterisation describes the processes in a film by which characters are introduced to us, through their actions, thoughts, words, relationships, attitudes, and the way these are developed throughout a film.

Auteur theory is a French technique of the 1950’s for critiquing film which sees the director as the major influence is the development of the film. We could look, for example, at the influence of Woody Allen on all his films and note how different they are from Alfred Hitchkock’s; or Nikki Caro’s style to Peter Jackson’s; or Andrew Adamson’s with Roger Donaldson’s style. Auteur theory is not centre stage in film analysis these days but is worth some reflection and discussion.

Reception Theory argues that meaning is not only inherent in the text but also takes place between viewer and film. Viewer and film do not exist in a vacuum as they both function within their own particular cultural settings which shape the encounter and the meaning constructed by the viewer.

Historical and technological perspectives allow us to understand a film in the light of when it was made and the level of technology available to the director at the time. E.g. today the increasing use of computer graphics in Andrew Adamson’s and Peter Jackson’s movies give them advantages over earlier attempts to make the Narnia film and King Kong.

Blockbuster movies, in vogue since the 1960’s, enable lavish and quite spectacular productions aimed at attracting huge crowds and so making large financial returns which can then fund films that might make a loss for the production studios.

Genre is a term for organising films according to type – western, historical, comedy, romance, avant-garde, documentary, feminist, science fiction, post colonial, thriller, war movie, biographical,  romance, religious and so on.

Conventions are the standard ways of doing things – the established habits of visual appearance, editing, story structure etc. If these informal rules are broken the film is in some ways unconventional.

Semiotics is the study of signs, i.e. how films signify what they are saying to us. It can be non-verbal, visual, body language, mood, light and darkness, film angles and shots, the richness or starkness of a scene and so on. Directors use these signs to “speak” to the viewers and pass messages that are often non-verbal. Meaning is often conveyed to us by the relationship built up between the signifier and the signified - e.g. we know we’re in London when we see a shot of Big Ben; we know it’s about drought when we see the dried out corpse of an animal in sand; that we’re in the tropics with a shot of lush growth and a humming bird; or in a Maori pa with a fleeting shot of a meeting house.  Poverty can be depicted by an empty fridge or pantry. A more refined use of semiotics is the development of codes used in some films that only the initiated see and understand and which creates a cult following of those in the know.

Ideology is a set of values and beliefs depicting a nation, era, culture, religion, society, political stance etc. which underlie a movie.

Mise-en-scene is a theatre term denoting the staging of a play. In films it refers to the setting, costuming, lighting, and the collection of things that go to make up a scene in a film and which give scenes their uniqueness. And every item, costume, light angles are carefully selected – even the pictures on the walls, the flowers in the vase, the background in a shot.

Two good books on reading these in films are Cinema Studies by Susan Hayward and Fresh Approaches to Film by Brian McDonnell (see booklist for details).

OPENINGS

An interesting thing to do is to watch the first 10 minutes of a number of film videos/DVD’s and see these elements in action as the audience is drawn into the story and given enough information to begin to make sense of the movie. There’s no end to the ways directors do this with their viewers and it’s fun to watch them do it to us, for us.

CINEMA  AND CONTEMPLATION by Andrew Dunn

My earliest memory of going to the cinema was to see the Disney film Bambi, probably about 1945. It captured my imagination, gripped me with the story line and frightened me alarmingly (with the bush fire sequence threatening Bambi, the little deer). Then (a few years later) came Scott of the Antarctic which did much the same things as well as hooking me into things Antarctic from that day to this. At the same time we began to see the Fact and Faith Films which used time lapse photography, brilliant colour and some of the traditional proofs of the existence of God theory to draw us to faith through a variety of wildlife and creation themes – quite stunning visually, and gripping for thirsty young hearts seeking God.

In hindsight I came to realise that what was going on amidst the gripping newish (for me) medium of film and its artistry and enticements was a feeding of the contemplative side of my nature. Yes, there was intellectual stimulation as well, and the delights of good stories which has never ceased. But a common thread for me has been the expansion of my contemplative nature. And scenes, drama and story in films could trigger this awe, wonder and delight as readily as creation, wildlife, poetry or music and worship! And still does.

Sidney Poitier in his autobiography (The Measure of a Man. Simon and Schuster. 2000) writes, “In the professional theatre, audiences are known to have been swept out of their individual realities and transported to imaginary places and to imaginary times that appear as real as any place or time out of their own experience.  … On more than a few occasions I was present, on one side of the footlights or the other, when actors and audience conspired to make magic. Time and again I witnessed some unknown force take hold and keep us transfixed to the evening’s end, then release us gently and send us home with gifts of remembrances to last for a lifetime.” (p231).

The cinema can do the same.

So how do we use film to help expand our contemplative hearts, develop our contemplative faculties and to adopt a more contemplative stance in life?

If contemplation is “a long loving look at the real” then reel gazing and reflection is a wonderful tool for aiding this expansion in our lives. Film makers take all the stuff of life and experience as they craft their mise-en-scene which draw the viewers with all kinds of locations, scenes, settings, artistry, costumes, devices and camera work, light and shade on a ride through the writers and directors’ views of reality. The power of Andrew Adamson’s imagination in The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe not only delights the eye but captures the heart and imagination as well, not least for those whose spiritual development was aided by C.S. Lewis’ Narnia books.

So the first step is to go to the movies and become absorbed in films, albeit selecting the good and rich viewing from the rubbish.

Conversation about a film after viewing it is helpful – often over a cuppa with a friend or in a group who have seen it.  Reflection and journal writing aids the process, as does telling the story or describing the gripping parts to someone.

Below is a format for group discussion. However, it’s amazing how these discussions take off without the use for a guide.

Another format we have used is to create a film day where a group gathers to watch a film in the morning and then writes up a few thoughts and reactions. After lunch these discoveries and reactions are discussed for a couple of hours. The discussion guide can include questions about the contemplative and grace-full elements of the film which invariably stimulate insights.

I remember a discussion on film at a ministry school some years ago when the speaker made the statement that all good films have a strong element of grace flowing through them. Quite a thought, and if true it should not surprise us when they trigger awe and wonder at God’s grace at work also in the viewing event and afterwards.

In the Men’s loo after seeing As It Is In Heaven another guy said to me after some (relative) silence, “What an amazing movie?” It was, it is, and it left us both deeply reflective.

Stimulating our contemplative natures does a number of important things:

•   it develops the faculty by which we sense the presence of God.

•   it opens us up to the love and grace of God.

•   it opens us to a wider view of life and faith.

•   it expands our understanding of prayer and relationship with God.

•   it develops our ability to sense what is shallow, shonky, unworthy, sinful or evil however nicely packaged and presented.

•   it challenges our social, cultural, religious and theological prejudices with the largese of grace.

And all of this aids our growth and understanding of life, people and this world into which Christ came as the living Word of God amongst us.

FILM DISCUSSION STARTERS

Themes

     -   What theological themes caught our attention?

     -   What aspects of the human condition did it bring into focus for us?

Genre, Precedent and Plot

     -   What genre or intersection of genres would we describe this film as belonging             to?

     -   Are there other films or stories that this film draws on, makes reference to or             develops?

     -   In what ways does it extend or does it just imitate them?

     -   How did the plot develop anticipation, tension, and resolution for us?

Character

-   What Psychological or theological archetypes do we sin in the main characters, or others?

-   Who do we identify with and in what aspects?

-   Who would we like to be like, and in what ways?