“THE course of true love never did run smooth”. Or, in the case of Mysterious Ways (Advisory classification 12), that should read “the cause of true love”. The film is a fervent plea for gay rights within the Church. Peter Simmons (Richard Short), a widowed New Zealand priest, apparently adored by all his congregation, proposes on radio to his Samoan partner, Jason (Nick Afoa). Only the Bishop (Michael Hurst) minds and some homophobic listeners to the talkback show of Mike (Te Radar).
The vicar is fond of signalling his intentions over the airwaves, including that of having a church wedding. Jason is more reticent, beginning to suspect that Peter’s main interest lies in campaigning for acceptance of the LGBTQ+ community than concentrating on their own ceremony. The plot inches towards the inevitable dramatic rupture that must occur.
As the director, Paul Oremland, enlisted advisers on religious robing and Anglicanism, the film gets most details right regarding liturgy and ecclesiastical procedures. There are more likely to be misgivings, however, related to Peter’s contention that the gospel and the eucharist are entirely about making a commitment to change.
In contrast with the agonised debates in the international Anglican community, there is no theological examination of other viewpoints. However fallacious those appeals to scripture may be, it would have helped to examine arguments for the millennia-long tradition that marriage is confined to same-sex relationships; nor do we get any insights into what motivates the film’s hate-mongers. Instead, Peter is allowed to declare without serious challenge that all you need is unqualified love. It may be hard to demur, but, as played out here, most viewers will find the effect embarrassingly simplistic.
We have more luck with two other characters. There is Billy (Joe Malu Folau), Jason’s gender-fluid nephew, who comes along to organise in his flamboyant way the wedding ceremony. He brings with him a tolerance from the Samoan community of fa’afafine — individuals, usually males, who identify as feminine. Amid the wisecracks and jolliness, we have a portrait of someone more sinned against than sinning. Jason’s Aunt Nola (Maureen Fepuleai), possibly influenced by Christian fundamentalist missionaries to Polynesia, takes some persuading that such a marriage falls within the will of God.
I wonder whom this film is aimed at. Many, particularly those outside the Church, will remain puzzled at organised religion’s slowness to catch up with diversity and equality issues. In this respect, Mysterious Ways is pushing against an open door. To a secular audience, it is a matter of justice, long overdue.
The choice of hymns punctuating the story is interesting. “Just as I am, without one plea”, containing the lines “though tossed about With many a conflict, many a doubt” counterpoints Peter’s certainties. Then there’s “Be still, my soul”, asserting that God guides the future as he has the past — meat and drink to this crusading parson. Best of all, Billy riffs on “Amazing Grace”, interpreting its words as an anthem to a world changing from glory into glory. It is a gift to the lovers in more ways than one, turning the grand finale into the most intriguing aspect of the picture.
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THE film Frank Capra: Mr America (Cert. 12) relates how a Sicilian immigrant’s films came to embody the ideals of his adopted country. Best known for It Happened One Night, Mr Deeds Goes to Town, Mr. Smith Goes to Washington, Meet John Doe, and It’s a Wonderful Life, Capra has helped to shape our world-view.
The subect of Frank Capra: Mr America, in an image used in the film
Matthew Well’s documentary includes new archive footage and tapes. Consequently, Capra’s public persona as a champion of liberty for the oppressed takes on darker tones. Admittedly, it is more forgiving than, say, the biography by Joseph McBride who also features here. Overall, Frank Capra: Mr America concentrates on its subject’s creative side.
Jeanine Basinger, Professor of Film Studies at Wesleyan University, Connecticut, praises Capra’s efforts to portray a world in which there is hope: one that senses that there could be a victory for goodness. The clips that are shown have a tendency to regard large groups with suspicion, while the lone individual stands up for justice in a corrupt political-economic arena.
There are exceptions to this. In Meet John Doe, the Gary Cooper character unwittingly comes to mobilise the forces of decency against corporate greed, leading to the masses’ triumphant call: “The people! Try and lick that.” The documentary does not mention that this was inserted only after alternative lines failed to get audience approval at previews. Nor does it spend much time on Capra’s religious element. Whether it is Barbara Stanwyck’s impassioned reminder of the first John Doe, who has kept that ideal of love for God and neighbour alive for nearly 2000 years, or the heavenly grace visited upon George Bailey in It’s a Wonderful Life, there is some spiritual hope that is more than just positive thinking.
Many of the films have a despairing, suicidal hero redeemed after experiencing the force of God’s healing power. This accords with the late theologian Jürgen Moltmann’s argument that first comes the awareness of the pain and wrongdoing in the world. Following on from there, it is the Crucified God who takes us with him on his way to resurrection.
It is arguable that Capra, in keeping with another great Italian, repeatedly insists life is ultimately a divine comedy. Maybe so, but ,after witnessing at close quarters the ravages of the Second World War, Capra’s vision of hope becomes more qualified. Note, for instance, the opening credits of his most famous movie, It’s a Wonderful Life. The title has quotation marks: a thesis to be tested. And the film ends with Potter (the personification of evil) remaining unpunished. For James Stewart’s protagonist, while surrounded by love and happier than he was, circumstances haven’t changed.
Sam Wasson, another contributor to the documentary, considers that the resurgence of interest in Capra’s movies (amid terrible contemporary turmoil) is like all great myths. They work on the spiritual, communal level, giving us a framework to maintain faith that isn’t ludicrous, but life-saving. Indeed. But the absence of anyone arguing that Capra was simply whistling in the dark to keep our courage up is a serous omission. Instead, we are treated to snapshots of the Risen Life based more on optimism that good will happen than on trusting that God is with us, no matter what.