For a film about a man who preached messages of love, it is astounding just how hateful “The Passion of the Christ” truly is. Unrelentingly anti-Semitic, excessively grotesque and overly narrow in its scope, Mel Gibson’s controversial film is full of all the wrong sorts of passion.
The movie concerns itself only with the final 12 hours of Jesus’ (James Caviezel) life, depicting Judas’ (Luca Lionello) betrayal in the opening moments of the picture and wasting little time before commencing to depict the bloodying of Jesus.
Therein lies one of the movie’s principal flaws: Gibson selects such a narrow time frame that he is ultimately unable to balance the atrocities committed against the protagonist with any meaningful inclusion of his teachings. The film does offer a handful of flashbacks, but they are too few and too short to offer any sort of relief from the film’s main objective — apparently the overly graphic portrayal of Jesus’ suffering.
Indeed, the violence is so brutal in nature that it not only ranks “The Passion of the Christ” as the most grotesque film ever made, but also shows the errors of the Motion Picture Association of America in not tagging the film with an NC-17 rating. “Saving Private Ryan,” “Hamburger Hill” and even Gibson’s “Braveheart” are all graphic in their nature, but none are near the level of “The Passion of the Christ.”
Not only does the film depict Jesus being rather severely manhandled by the Jews (part of a larger anti-Semitic undertone that will be discussed later), but the picture also takes care to depict all 39 floggings, counted aloud one at a time. Moreover, the scourging becomes a bloodbath of nauseating proportions. Jesus’ flesh is violently ripped away as the faces of his beaters are sprayed with red and the ground around his fallen body slowly becomes a pool.
Although Gibson clearly wants to be faithful to the sheer brutality that is described in the book of Isaiah, the whippings become so hyperbolic in nature that the film loses credibility early on. The New Testament is clear that Jesus, although the Son of Man, was a mortal until his death. Indeed, this theme is central to “The Passion of the Christ” as the film seeks to show the toll of the infamous 12 hours on Jesus’ human body. But the reality is that the scourging is so brutal that no one could have survived; if the film were concerned with the realities of Jesus’ humanity, he never would have lived to carry his cross.
Of course, if the lashings are excessively violent, then the crucifixion itself is pornographic. The film takes great care to slowly depict the driving of the stakes through Jesus — never hesitating to show the gushing of his blood in contrast to the carnage of his thorny crown. In combination with the still-recent lash marks, these images are too much for children or the weak-stomached to handle and another persuasive argument that the film’s rating be more restrictive.
It is the totality of this violence that, in part, lends the film its horrifically anti-Semitic message. Not only does Gibson care to place the blame almost exclusively on the Jews, but by depicting the torture in such fantastical detail, he also fosters a growing hatred toward those who would dare subject a man to such brutality.
The contrast is remarkable: Pontius Pilate (Hristo Shopov) is depicted as a man torn about how to handle Jesus. The film, in a rare scene excluding the protagonist, shows Pilate’s careful meditation in great detail, ultimately explaining that he is only willing to condemn Jesus to death for the greater good of his people, as he fears the uprising that might ensue if he does not order the crucifixion. Conversely, the Jews are never shown to give their actions any thought whatsoever and are depicted as controlling Rome and acting with a mob mentality that thirsts for blood alone.
Granted, the Romans who carry out Pilate’s fatal order do seem to relish the task, but the message is clear: only the lowliest of Romans are culpable in Jesus’ death, but even the highest of the Jews shoulder responsibility.
By the time Barabbas is spared at Jesus’ expense, the anti-Semitic message is already clear. The Jews are emotionless, bloodthirsty and conniving. The Romans – who, even Gibson must acknowledge, ultimately are the ones to crack a whip 39 times and drive the actual stakes into Jesus – come across as a civilized, compassionate people. As a result, almost all of the blame is assigned to the Jews, who are shown finding stoic pleasure in these final 12 hours.
Gibson should have reduced the violence, expanded the flashbacks and steered clear of making a film so obsessed with anti-Semitism that even Simon (Jarreth Merz) ultimately looks bad. Technically, he has the skill to do just this – the cinematography is already picturesque, the makeup is horrifically realistic and the acting, with the exception of a scene where Caviezel makes it appear as though Jesus is nodding off in front of Pilate, is stellar.
Moreover, credit should be given where due, and Gibson’s decision to make the entire movie in Aramaic (with Romans speaking Street Latin) significantly helps establish the time setting and build intensity.
But not even these small accomplishments can overshadow the fact that “The Passion of the Christ” is a bitter film that uses excessive violence to foster hatred that this religiously divided world simply doesn’t need.
