RED HERRING (Cert.12A) is a cinematic exposition of what Elisabeth Kübler-Ross identified as five phases that we may go through when facing death. Kit Vincent’s reaction when diagnosed at 24 with an incurable brain tumour was to make a film about it. Rather like some opening words in Christopher Isherwood’s Goodbye to Berlin, he considers himself “a camera with its shutter open, quite passive, recording, not thinking”.
Focusing on loved ones diverts Kit’s attention from his own feelings — hence the film’s title. It is denial, the first of the Kübler-Ross categories. When he is asked if he is depressed, the only answer that he gives is “I think all people are, to some extent.” Thus do we witness something like a game of emotional ping-pong. The son constantly bats things back to Lawrence, his father, making him the documentary’s primary subject. As such, it is he who vicariously undergoes several stages of the unexpressed grief Kit experiences.
We frequently witness Lawrence moved to tears by anger (Stage Two). Why is this happening, he rails. Tacitly, this unanswerable question is not only about his son’s situation, but how or why is he also having to carry such sorrow. Kit’s anger is more likely to be directed at his parents (who separated in his early childhood) if they ask too many questions. Lawrence tries distracting himself. He takes up various activities in an effort. The largest of these is a conversion (or is it a return?) to Judaism.
When something serious happens, he tells Kit, an engagement with life on a deeper level is required. Through an online Journey of the Soul project, Lawrence finds in the Torah a philosophy for life. The rabbi counsels participants to act well before death so they leave something good behind. In reality, it feels very similar to the Bargaining point in the Kübler-Ross model. The barely conscious hope is that good works will stave off death.
This is where Kit’s mother, Julie, comes more fully into the picture. Her son has lived mainly with his father, and there is some fence-mending to be done. Her apparent neglect of the relationship becomes a pertinent topic of discussion. Through it, the pair grow stronger, not least because she, as a district nurse, carries a level of expertise and empathy for people in the same medical situation as her son. Because of her realism, they run the danger of passively and prematurely surrendering to the inevitability of it all. Instead of rage at the dying of the light, depression (Stage Four) sets in.
It is not clear whether Lawrence’s new-found faith ultimately offers solace to the patient but we do get a glimpse of that final phase: acceptance. We see Lawrence being initiated into membership of Bournemouth Reformed Synagogue, and the joyous participation of Julie, Kit, and his girlfriend, Isabel, in celebrations afterwards. Kit no longer shelters behind a camera. Someone else is now doing the filming. It is as if his soul has been set free and is now ready for the journey.
THE Veteran director Marco Bellocchio continues in Kidnapped (Cert. 12A) his lifelong examination of what shapes the human soul. This time he considers the true story of Edgardo Mortara, who in 1851, at the age of six, was seized at his Jewish home in Bologna. Supposedly, the family’s Christian maid believed that Edgardo was dying. To avert his being consigned to limbo, she baptised him. This was enough for officers of the Papal States’ Holy Inquisition to consider the boy now Catholic and thus remove him to be a catechumen at a residential school for Jewish converts.
Thenceforth, it became an international battle of wills between the grieving parents, Salomone and Marianna (played by Fausto Russo Alesi and Barbara Ronchi), and an intractable Pope Pius IX (Paolo Pierobon), who as a matter of principle saw himself as winning one more vital soul for Christ. Despite claims of their being indoctrinated, the schoolboys appear to be well treated, learning by rote details of the Catholic faith. Enea Sala gives a heart-rending performance as the young Edgardo. Initially unmoved by his mother’s visit, he breaks free of his carers and, amid sobs, assures her that he continues reciting in bed the Shema Yisrael (“Hear, O Israel, the Lord our God is one Lord. . .”).
On several occasions, Bellocchio juxtaposes Jewish worship with that of Christians, usually with passages from the Hebrew Bible. Perhaps it is a statement that the faiths have much in common. The director was brought up as a devout Roman Catholic before entertaining Marxism for a while. Nowadays, he is sceptical, though, respectful, of both. His upbringing is clearly seen in how he goes about making movies.
Paolo Pierobon as Pope Pius IX and Enea Sala as Edgardo in Kidnapped
Christian imagery figures prominently in Kidnapped. According to Bellocchio, the style of this film also owes much to the religious paintings of Eugène Delacroix. It is certainly a sumptuous production — and a sympathetic one. The character of the Pope may at times begin resembling a pantomime villain before it recovers his warmth and sense of divine authority. Like all of us, he is a bundle of contradictions. His chief Inquisitor, Pier Feletti (Fabrizio Gifuni), reminds him that the Vatican is prepared to be massively in debt to Jewish bankers. There is never any suggestion that the Rothschilds are avaricious, even though Judaism is regarded by Pius as a superstition.
Edgardo, after years of faith development, appears to have moved from conformist affiliation to individual ownership of Christianity. Yet he, too, swings wildly between conformity to his adopted faith and rebellion against its representatives. When Pius, his mentor, dies, the young adult Edgardo temporally joins protesters who wish to hurl the coffin into the Tiber.
Beyond any theological wrangling over whether salvation is possible outside the Church, there is a moving tale of how we react to external circumstances imposed on us. Bellochio looks upon his main characters more with pity than with blame. Like St John of the Cross, he offers hope that, whatever adversity nature or nurture bestows upon us, it can be used to convert our anger into the courage to change things.
THE film On The Waterfront (now a PG certificate) has had a timely re-release 70 years on. Voted fifth best religious film in a Church Times poll (Features, 13 April 2007) this story of Christians tempted into compromise has lost none of its relevance.
In the docklands of New Jersey, longshoremen are controlled by Johnny Friendly, a mobster (Lee J. Cobb). He represents the rulers of darkness in this world. Wrestling against such power is Fr Barry (Karl Malden). One longshoreman, Joey (Ben Wagner), is murdered before testifying against Friendly. After another killing, Barry confronts the dockers. Crucifixions happen everyday, he thunders. The dock is a place to be redeemed from evil.
Marlon Brando as Terry and Karl Malden as Fr Barry in On the Waterfront
Meanwhile, Joey’s sister, Edie (Eve Marie Saint), meets Terry (a definitive performance from Marlon Brando), one of Friendly’s henchmen. He is overwhelmed with guilt, having inadvertently lured Joey to his death. The rest of the film depicts the struggle for everyone to do the right thing. It convincingly positions Jesus’s Church there in the midst of both pain and glory.
Not to be pedantic, but this present film’s title should read On The Waterfront, 4K Restoration. That is because the viewer is not experiencing the same movie as 1954 audiences. This digital version is in some way superior to the original 35mm film stock and subsequent DVD/Blu-ray copies. Not only has any visual and aural deterioration been eliminated: the resolution is higher. Leonard Bernstein’s only original film score now sounds even better.