Jesus Camp
The new genre of opinionated documentaries comes with benefits as well as dangers. The documentary film is a powerful medium that can produce a profound effect on viewers who appear to be confronted with simply objective footage. The viewer must be informed that these documentaries are opinions and as such, all of the included footage and editing works toward a message that the director wants to communicate. The goal is not necessarily to paint an accurate picture of the subject at hand. With that mindset one can appropriately watch Jesus Camp, a disturbing film about a children’s summer camp in South Dakota dedicated to training the Christian children of today for the political wars of tomorrow. Although it’s debatable as to whether or not the movie gives evangelicals fair treatment, it does raise important questions about the place of Christianity in America.
Directors Rachel Grady and Heidi Ewing’s purpose is to portray evangelical Christianity as a right-wing ideology that is gaining influence in government, and raising a generation of children that will continue to fight for political influence. The film focuses on Lakewood Bible Camp in South Dakota, a children’s camp led by Becky Fischer, pastor of Christ Triumphant Church in Missouri. She gets most of the camera time, preaching fiery sermons, raising her hands, and calling for kids to pray in tongues. She is the villain of Jesus Camp. All of her footage implies a manipulative, fundamentalist bent on influencing children to be leaders of some crusade to retake America for Christ. Fischer sums up the directors’ intent nicely when she says that this young generation of evangelicals should “make liberals shake in their boots.” This is exactly what Jesus Camp hopes to accomplish through a series of soundtrack-heavy montages in which children seem to be emotionally exploited into crying and chanting for the cause of the religious right.
The weakness of Jesus Camp is that these montages are all there is. It is a documentary that doesn’t really document anything. The worship service scenes are disturbing enough, but there is no purpose to them other than making evangelicals appear crazy. From all of the gasps and sighs of disgust I heard in the theater, the directors’ scare tactics work pretty well, but there is no deeper exploration into the character of these “crazy Christians”, why they believe what they do, and why they are so intent on making others believe the same way.
Watching Jesus Camp as a Christian is a conflicting experience that will likely offend many, but hopefully raise some important questions about the Church in America. As far as the directors are concerned, Becky Fischer speaks for all American evangelicals when it is obvious that her church is on an extreme end of the spectrum. Grady and Ewing did not pick an “average” church to document, but by choosing an extreme, the film paints a plausible picture of what misguided Christianity can become. This film does not simply attack our images (such as comedies like Saved! or Dogma) but delves deeper into our conception of what Christianity is. Fischer’s overzealous personality and fiery preaching style makes her warlike theology seem insane, but why not pursue political representation for Christians? What is so wrong with raising a generation of Christian children by any means necessary? Our mission is “for Christ and his Kingdom”, so why not make America his kingdom? Fischer’s message is clear in one of her sermons when she says “Someone needs to fix this sick ol’ world…so let’s pick up our tools and fix it!” Grady and Ewing wish to point out that Christians “fixing the world” looks frighteningly similar to the bloody crusades of the past ideological regimes whose intent was to make the world a better place. The troubling thing is that they might be right. Jesus Camp is an opportunity for we as Christians to evaluate our mission on earth. What was Jesus’ intent for the Christian life? Was it to “make disciples of all nations by whatever means necessary?” Becky Fischer seems to think that it is. Though it may not be a well-balanced film, Jesus Camp’s message could be important for Christians to consider.
Thursday, October 05, 2006
The Black Dahlia
The Black Dahlia is inspired by the true story of the infamous 1947 murder of Elizabeth Short, an aspiring Hollywood actress whose body is mutilated and left in a field. For the LAPD detectives assigned to the case, the murder sparks a series of events resulting in a complicated tale of obsession and betrayal.
The murder itself is the first of the film’s problems. It is supposed to be the emotional center of all of the characters’ conflict, but the viewer is rarely allowed to feel sympathy for the victim. Mia Kirshner delivers a great performance as the tragically insecure Ms. Short whom we see interacting with a faceless casting director on old reels, but those scenes are few and are overshadowed by numerous insensitive shots of her corpse.
The movie’s only highlight is its visual tribute to 1940s style cinema, using layered fade shots and static camera angles to recreate the budding era of Hollywood. There are several impressively directed scenes, one an aerial sweep of a street riot, the other a complicated stage-like shot of a busy Los Angeles intersection. However, the film’s visual strength is offset by its inability to conjure up any feeling in its actors. The acting is fair, but wooden. Josh Hartnett, Scarlett Johannsen, Aaron Eckhart and Hillary Swank seem to be trapped by Josh Friedman’s uninteresting script that, although employs the familiar noir jargon, lacks the freshness and pep of a cool detective movie. The characters certainly look their parts, but as afore mentioned, the visuals are all there are.
Usually, a movie’s objectionable content alone will not ruin it for me, but The Black Dahlia’s R-rated material factored in heavily to my displeasure with the film. I do not unilaterally condemn all strong content in movies because it is often used to develop plot elements, pack a thematic punch or be stylistically appropriate. Sadly, The Black Dahlia has nothing significant to contribute to any of these areas, so it all comes across as excess. The countless sex scenes, including an unedited recreation of a lesbian porn film were more than enough to convince me that, thespian considerations aside, this is nothing beyond gratuitous smut. What makes the violence so disturbing is not necessarily how much is shown, but rather the gleeful treatment it gets. The torturous murder scene is unexpectedly colorful, more like a Carrie than The Untouchables. Someone should remind Mr. De Palma that he is dealing (albeit loosely) with an actual murder victim, and that the unsympathetic violence comes off as disrespectful to the deceased. Save your brain some inerasable images and steer clear of this mindless mess of cheap shock value.
Brian De Palma has pieced together a confusing attempt at film noir permeated with unclear twists and dull characters. The many plot elements are as uninteresting as they are emotionless, and only the film’s excessive violence and sex keep it from being totally forgettable.
The Black Dahlia is inspired by the true story of the infamous 1947 murder of Elizabeth Short, an aspiring Hollywood actress whose body is mutilated and left in a field. For the LAPD detectives assigned to the case, the murder sparks a series of events resulting in a complicated tale of obsession and betrayal.
The murder itself is the first of the film’s problems. It is supposed to be the emotional center of all of the characters’ conflict, but the viewer is rarely allowed to feel sympathy for the victim. Mia Kirshner delivers a great performance as the tragically insecure Ms. Short whom we see interacting with a faceless casting director on old reels, but those scenes are few and are overshadowed by numerous insensitive shots of her corpse.
The movie’s only highlight is its visual tribute to 1940s style cinema, using layered fade shots and static camera angles to recreate the budding era of Hollywood. There are several impressively directed scenes, one an aerial sweep of a street riot, the other a complicated stage-like shot of a busy Los Angeles intersection. However, the film’s visual strength is offset by its inability to conjure up any feeling in its actors. The acting is fair, but wooden. Josh Hartnett, Scarlett Johannsen, Aaron Eckhart and Hillary Swank seem to be trapped by Josh Friedman’s uninteresting script that, although employs the familiar noir jargon, lacks the freshness and pep of a cool detective movie. The characters certainly look their parts, but as afore mentioned, the visuals are all there are.
Usually, a movie’s objectionable content alone will not ruin it for me, but The Black Dahlia’s R-rated material factored in heavily to my displeasure with the film. I do not unilaterally condemn all strong content in movies because it is often used to develop plot elements, pack a thematic punch or be stylistically appropriate. Sadly, The Black Dahlia has nothing significant to contribute to any of these areas, so it all comes across as excess. The countless sex scenes, including an unedited recreation of a lesbian porn film were more than enough to convince me that, thespian considerations aside, this is nothing beyond gratuitous smut. What makes the violence so disturbing is not necessarily how much is shown, but rather the gleeful treatment it gets. The torturous murder scene is unexpectedly colorful, more like a Carrie than The Untouchables. Someone should remind Mr. De Palma that he is dealing (albeit loosely) with an actual murder victim, and that the unsympathetic violence comes off as disrespectful to the deceased. Save your brain some inerasable images and steer clear of this mindless mess of cheap shock value.
Brian De Palma has pieced together a confusing attempt at film noir permeated with unclear twists and dull characters. The many plot elements are as uninteresting as they are emotionless, and only the film’s excessive violence and sex keep it from being totally forgettable.
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