Despite being a deeply, deeply metaphorical film, “The Last Temptation” still works on a traditional level of sympathetic characters struggling, although there are some times when narrative is nudged aside for meaning. The movie’s settings look authentic—dirty, dusty, deserty—but little attempt is made at period dialogue or people. Neither Dafoe nor many of the important cast look especially Semitic, and ironically Harvey Keitel, who actually is Jewish, sounds the most out-of-place with his Noo Yawk accent. But this is not to the movie’s discredit, which always wants us jarred and jumping across the centuries. The film’s conversations span the entire history of Christianity in a few words. John the Baptist (Andre Gregory of “My Dinner with Andre”) is practically John the Southern Baptist, holding a revival in the desert, and I think it no accident that the first people we see there are Africans. Jesus’ words are misinterpreted right before his eyes by those who seem set to have an 12th century crusade. The insults hurled at Jesus’ face could just as well come out of modern mouths that are fed up with life, the universe, and everything. The Sacred Heart appears centuries early. “Work a miracle,” one of Jesus’ skeptical neighbors demands, “by making us believe in you.” “People don’t want change,” a very detached and philosophical Pontius Pilate (that’s right, David freakin’ Bowie) explains. These ideas are not included to be sacrilegious or shocking, but are simply the attacks, criticisms, and questions Jesus faces today, now. The movie’s jarring casting choices are the same way: not shock for shock’s sake, but intended to bring Jesus into the modern world while still keeping him in his (he’s done this sort of thing before, what with being in heaven and on earth at the same time).
Conversations in “The Last Temptation” are on the one hand so colloquial, with no “thee,” “thou,” or “saith,” only modern English, but they are also too philosophically direct to be real. They take on a heightened, metaphorical quality: people are talking about what they’re talking about, but their words also rise out of their situations to the eternal discussions and controversies of the Judeo-Christian history. This is not a realistic film in a conversational way or in its treatment of events coming on the heels of each other, but that’s okay. Characters sometimes flip-flop on issues or speak the truth one moment and lie the next, all at the service of the Kazantzakis’s larger discussion.
Next to Jesus, Judas (Harvey Keitel) is the film’s most interesting metaphor. When describing the Zealots to Jesus, he says they want “their revolution, not yours.” Fifteen years ago many viewers were angered to see the betrayer as Jesus’ best friend. But Jesus was a man as well as God, and Judas, by his very treachery, is the most human of the apostles, and therefore the most useful to the movie. In many ways Judas is wrong even more than Peter, and he becomes the embodiment of the idea of “what can God do for me, how can God help me?” He wants to get over his tunnel vision, but he can’t. “I can’t turn the other cheek,” he admits. The idea of Judas as hero is not a new one. In his novel “King Jesus,” Robert Graves of “I Claudius” fame portrayed the traitor as the one apostle who figured things out and knew Jesus had to be crucified.
Another point of contention between “The Last Temptation” and some of the faithful is the portrayal of the apostles as not the sharpest crayons in the box. I find an enormous amount of comfort in the image of bumbling apostles because it means that no matter how badly I screw things up God still has a use for me. The one time St. Peter does anything right in the Gospels is credited to the Holy Spirit, yet despite all his bungling, God still chose him as the rock. After Judas there is Mary Magdalene, who loves Jesus, and to whom Jesus had to turn his back to follow his ministry, and her revenge is to enter a life of prostitution among the Gentiles.
What can we learn from this Jesus not-Jesus? Ironically, for all its liberties, “The Last Temptation of Christ” ends in favor of a literal interpretation of the Crucifixion. A Crucifixion that didn’t happen but is believed by everyone so that we all feel good about ourselves is not good enough for “The Last Temptation.” It has to have happened, the movie says, for real. Scorsese and his crew do not cave in to PC ideas of “heaven and hell are right here on Earth!” and “believe in God, but believe in yourself too!” Rarely has any film shown the inner turmoil of the path of the righteous. Following in the footsteps of the Lord is not all peaches and cream. Sometimes even the Virgin Mary sees all the trouble her boy is in and wishes God weren’t so close to him. Is it right to suffer for God’s work if it will cause your beloved mother to suffer as well? Is it right to turn your back on the world if it means breaking the heart of a woman who loves and wishes to marry you? If you answer yes to both questions, isn’t that still a bummer, and isn’t it right to feel bad? What a rich, complex film.
Finished February 28th, 2004
Copyright © 2004 Friday & Saturday Night
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