Abstract
This article examines developments in the academic study of the relationship between the Bible, religion, and film since 2000. The author reflects upon the status of the ‘discipline’ of ‘religion and film’, asking whether or not this area of study has evolved into a full-fledged addition to the religious studies curriculum. In addition, the article offers a brief examination of some representative films that intersect with religion and the Bible, and reviews some of the representative scholarship in the field. The conclusion of the article is that interest in religion and film is strong, and that scholarship is ongoing and productive.
Keywords
Introduction
In 1999, and again in 2000, Currents in Research: Biblical Studies published articles treating scholarly interest in popular film and religion. Alice Bach wrote ‘Cracking the Production Code: Watching Biblical Scholars Read Films’ (1999), and Conrad Ostwalt contributed ‘Celluloid Religion: Reading Religion Scholars Watching Films’ (2000). Both articles reflected upon the state of ‘religion and film studies’ at the end of the twentieth century, and both articles called for new directions in the ‘sub-discipline’ if film studies were to become a legitimate area for scholarly discussion and expansion. A dozen or so years have passed, scores of films have been released, numerous articles and books have been produced, and one can say with confidence that the interest in the intersection of religion, the Bible, spirituality, and popular culture has never been stronger.
In her article, Bach examined two types of interest biblical scholars have expressed in films. First, Bach isolated scholarship focused on films that were explicitly depictive of biblical stories or forms. Second, Bach highlighted scholars who were interested in films that were related indirectly or not at all to biblical plots and settings but were connected to biblical themes or tropes. Her article reviewed how biblical scholars appropriated films that were not explicitly biblical, but reflected potential biblical themes, films that contained Jesus references or Christ-like protagonists, and the explicit ‘Jesus films’. Bach hinted at the need for religious scholars to broaden their interests beyond Christian themes and to expand their methods beyond literary ones (1999).
In my follow-up article in 2000, I illustrated ways in which broader approaches were being applied in terms of both thematic interest and scholarly method. My own work with religion and film engages secularization theory and locates films in a broader societal matrix that includes not only the Bible but also religion and spirituality in general, and other cultural products like films. I assume that so-called ‘secular’ cultural products, like film, can and often do function religiously, and can therefore be studied from a religious studies perspective. For example, we find a variety of films that engage apocalyptic thinking and themes. Some of them are intimately connected to biblical models, such as Left Behind (2001), while others have no connection to apocalyptic biblical narratives but perhaps engage biblical themes, such as The Road (2009). Whether or not the apocalyptic stories connect to biblical or Christian themes is overshadowed in the academic study of religion and film, since ‘end-of-the-world’ scenarios carry an independent religious quality and meaning, and can engage society in ultimate questions without reference to a particular faith perspective. This illustrates secular forms functioning religiously (see Ostwalt 2000; 2003; 2012). I also argued in my 2000 article that more integrated methods should be used to study religion and film.
Since these two articles were published, the burgeoning ‘sub-discipline’ (Ostwalt 2000) has exploded into a thriving scholarly area within popular cultural studies. Numerous exceptional, sometimes groundbreaking, films have been released that engage our culture about religious themes and ultimate questions, sometimes with humor and light-hearted entertainment, and sometimes with provocative cultural goading. In addition, a shelf-full of books and articles have been produced exploring religion and film. These developments suggest that the first decade of the twenty-first century demonstrates a fascination with religion, spirituality, and the supernatural, and the marketplace of ideas on these items is being negotiated at, among other places, the movie theater. To summarize where culture has traveled during these years, I will focus on representative films produced since 2000 to suggest ways that contemporary films are reflecting and engaging contemporary, cultural concerns. For organizational purposes, I will limit the discussion to Jesus films, Bible films, evangelical films, ‘end-of-the-world’ films, and supernatural films. While these films are not the only films that can be studied from a religion and film perspective, they most certainly provide an enlightening view into the culture’s fascination with ‘visualizing’ spirituality. Second, to analyze where academia has ventured during this decade, I will focus on representative scholarship that has been produced engaging the academic study of religion and film. In both cases, it is clear that much has happened during the past decade in the interdisciplinary field of religion and film.
Twenty-first Century Films: Visualizing Spirituality
The Passion of the Christ
First, let’s revisit the genre of Jesus films. For better or worse, Mel Gibson changed everything with his film, The Passion of the Christ (2004). Gibson’s artistic portrayal of the suffering of the Christ raises the graphic and visual impact of martyrdom to a level not seen before in Jesus movies. After the release of The Passion, controversy immediately surrounded the film. One of the recurring complaints about the film was directed at its overt violence and graphic depiction of torture (Ostwalt 2005). Gibson’s focus on flesh mutilation transfixes audiences both through repulsion and attraction, defining torture as ritualistic and even sacramental. This is one way Gibson’s film departs from traditional films and defines perhaps a new category—the film itself opens up the possibility that movie goers participate ritualistically in a visual sacrament. Many movie goers report that their experience of the movie is religious and many church groups see the movie together. What viewers experience, either alone or as part of a group, is a visual representation of bodily mutilation that is so graphic and violent that it often reinforces believers’ own faith responses to the suffering and crucifixion of Jesus. By viewing Gibson’s depiction of the Christ’s suffering, believers experience the Passion vicariously in a visual way not available to them prior to the making of this movie.
Ariel Glucklich, in his book Sacred Pain (2001), helps us to understand why viewers were so attracted to the visual depiction of suffering in this film and why for some the film takes on a sacramental character. Glucklich argues that our postmodern appropriation of body politics makes it easier for our culture to appropriate bodily pain than sexuality (2001: 3-6, 14, 98). When the pain is what Glucklich calls ‘sacred pain’, that is, pain endured to achieve a sacred end, the pain becomes transcendent and increases the bond between believers and their gods (2001: 3-6, 98). So, ‘sacred pain’ functions religiously to provide power or status to a particular faith community. Glucklich also describes ‘shared pain’, where pain is experienced by someone for the benefit of others (2001: 29). This sacrificial aspect of enduring pain creates an even stronger bond between the sufferer and the community that is the beneficiary of the martyr. If Glucklich is right, then Gibson’s visual depiction of the sufferings of the Christ plays into a postmodern religious need of sorts to view body mutilation/destruction as a substitutionary sacrifice for the community of faith. The theology is traditional; the ritual (movie going) is postmodern, since it affords the graphic visual representation of body mutilation in a way that provides vicarious participation and affirmation for the community for whom the martyr suffers. Gibson’s film, perhaps more effectively than any other, provides a visualization of spirituality through functioning sacramentally and ritualistically. It provides us a clue to the power of cinema in the postmodern era—visualization and visual stimuli can lend power to even well-known religious and cultural stories in ways that might even reinterpret the story for a contemporary audience. The irony, of course, is that Gibson’s representation made the story ‘real’ for some who in the past might have been unaffected or perhaps not as viscerally affected by the sufferings of the Christ.
The Book of Eli
While The Passion helps redefine ‘Jesus films’, The Book of Eli (2010) reimages scripture and revives in a new light what might be considered a ‘Bible film’ (see Ostwalt 2012). In this film, Eli (El or Elohim?), portrayed by Denzel Washington, is the main character in a story set in a burnt-earth, post-apocalyptic American landscape. The time is thirty years after the ‘flash’ that seared the earth and destroyed civilization. Nomadic groups threaten violence and anarchy, and small villages try to recapture what was lost of law and order. Into this setting marches Eli, who travels west on a mission, a quest, to deliver the lost gift of civilization. It turns out that the lost key to the restoration of humanity is the King James Version of the Bible. Eli’s quest is to save the last remaining copy of the Bible, to deliver it to an archive on Alcatraz Island, where it will become the foundation of the restoration of civilization. Throughout the movie, Eli quotes scripture and tries to live by the ‘golden rule’, the essence, in his mind, of scriptural truth and wisdom. He prays and ‘walks by faith, not sight’ as he journeys westward while safely guarding the book entrusted to his possession.
Eli’s chief nemesis in the story is Carnegie (played by Gary Oldman), a minor despot of a struggling community of survivors. Carnegie has some power in his little village because he controls a clean water source; however, he desires ultimate power, and he believes that the words of the Bible contain that power. He has heard of Eli’s book and will stop at nothing to attain it. Carnegie ultimately wrests possession of the book from Eli, who surrenders it to save the life of Solara (Mila Kunis) and at the same time receives a mortal wound from Carnegie. Carnegie takes possession of the book, but in a shocking plot twist, the book is useless to him because it is written in Braille. The twist reveals not only that the book itself is useless while the power of the book is contained in its words, but also that Eli truly ‘walks by faith, not sight’. Meanwhile, Eli finishes his quest, empowered by a divine source, and is able to dictate, word for word, the entire contents of the King James Bible to the curator of the archives before he dies of his wound. Eli is the repository of the message, the word, and through his speaking the word, the Bible is saved, and so, too, is civilization. Solara (light) and Eli (God) join forces to provide the divine revelation of God’s word to human civilization.
The Book of Eli reimages the Bible in a postmodern setting, exploring the idea of its relevance for a secular society that envisions religion as useful only for the consolidation of political and societal power. Carnegie desires ‘the word’ solely for the ultimate power it promises. Eli has ingested ‘the word’, sacramentally, and it is literally part of him, his thought processes, his motivations, and his actions. Eli is the embodiment and preservation of ‘the word’, while the Revelation of God’s Word becomes the cornerstone of a new civilization that will rise phoenix-like from the ashes of destruction. In this sense, the movie presents ‘God’s word’ as salvific. Like Gibson’s The Passion, The Book of Eli possesses a sacramental power. Whereas Gibson’s movie becomes sacramental through the offering of the Christ’s mutilated body, The Book of Eli offers up God’s word as sacrament, revelation of God’s grace, and savior of humanity. That the film’s lead actor, Denzel Washington, is an outspoken Christian for whom prayer and Bible reading are an important part of everyday life, gives the film yet another sacramental component—prayer and recitation of scripture are not only sacramental in the film, but perhaps in the acting as well. The Book of Eli exemplifies a postmodern film set in a post
Apocalyptic Imaginings—Movies and the End
For over a decade, the film industry has played off the apocalyptic imagination to great success. I have written elsewhere about apocalyptic movies (Ostwalt 2003 and 2012) to point out that there seems to be a secular as well as religious fascination with the end of time, or at least the end of civilization. The eschaton looms in our collective imagination and receives treatment in our popular culture. The film industry is particularly well suited to examine the horrific images generally associated with violence and calamity inherent in our conceptions of the end of things. While the cynic might claim that apocalyptic themes are common in our popular culture because they pander to our perverse desire to see violence, destruction, and pain, one might just as easily find within the apocalyptic stories a desire to find meaning and even redemption. In other words, the appropriation of an apocalyptic consciousness functions in our culture to give meaning to the absurd. The end of days legitimizes the continuance of present days by redeeming the forces that bring about the end. In my previous treatment of apocalyptic movies, I have generally divided the types into two broad categories: those movies that examine the end of time from a secular perspective and those movies that examine the end of time from a biblical context (2012). The secular apocalypses are secular because they are not based on biblical or religious stories. Nonetheless, they might be religious or spiritual in content or message all the same. The biblical apocalypses play off the apocalyptic tradition in the Jewish and Christian heritage to a greater or lesser extent and often try to bring the biblical apocalypses to life on the big screen.
Secular Films
A recent example of a secular apocalypse is the film adaptation of Cormac McCarthy’s dark novel, The Road (2006). The film by the same name (2009) chronicles the personal struggle for survival of a father and son in a hopeless and barren world following some type of earth and civilization destruction (see Ostwalt 2012). The father and son are starving, cold, homeless, and hiding, trying not to fall victim to the cannibalistic nomads that roam and terrorize the countryside. There are few people left, and most of them have fallen into an animalistic, predatory state to survive, giving in to base instincts and evil intent, so that they are barely recognizable as human beings. Yet, as dark and hopeless as life seems, the will to live keeps father and son moving, scavenging, barely surviving, but willing to stay alive. In this dark, godless, hellish landscape, some basic goodness in the human condition refuses to die. The son in his innocence refuses to relinquish the ideal of helping others, as this is the test of humanity. The son and father carry ‘the fire’, the symbol of civilization that allows humanity to emerge from the brutishness of mere survival and to merge into community and humanness. The end of the story finds the father dead, but the son continues with another family, a good family, and the viewer of the film has hope that civilization has not completely succumbed to brute tendencies but will reemerge and will redeem humankind. ‘The fire’ has not been extinguished but lives on in those who care for others in contract with one another against evil and violence. While the movie is not based on a biblical or even a religious story, the movie can be considered spiritual with redemptive qualities, establishing as it does ‘the road’ back to humanity and restoration. Perhaps even as the fire the son carries symbolizes civilization, within that fire can be found burning the root of religion and the flame of redemption.
The Road (2009) demonstrates how the secular apocalypse works—while it may not be religious in content or origin, it functions religiously by appropriating religious and spiritual categories for the audience. Many films would fit this secular apocalypse categorization while simultaneously containing references to biblical events or themes. For example, the film 2012 (2009) sketches a plot based on recent fears that the world would end in the year 2012. Apocalyptic fears materialize in the story in the form of a shifting earth’s crust that causes tsunamis and massive destruction. World governments secretly prepare for the coming cataclysm by building ‘arks’ to survive the new floods. While the imagery is borrowed from biblical traditions, the underlying story does not try to sketch a biblical apocalyptic scenario. But in the end, religious values are portrayed as the redemption of humanity—self-sacrifice and selfless action save a remnant of humanity, bringing hope of a new world established on human empathy. Is this a purely secular vision for a new civilization, or does this story trade on biblical images and themes? Well, both. Many other films may not borrow directly from biblical images and present a more secularized version of world destruction—12 Monkeys (1995) or Independence Day (1996) come to mind. In these movies, while there might be throw-away biblical allusions to the apocalyptic story, mutant viruses and aliens as world destroyers can only bear faint resemblance to biblical or religious narratives about the apocalypse. Nevertheless, even these more secularized stories often function religiously by infusing the stories of destruction with hope, survival, victory, or other humanity-affirming themes.
Evangelical-oriented Films
While there are plenty of so-called ‘secular’ films being produced that function religiously or that carry implicit or even explicit messages, a new genre of films has emerged in the past fifteen years or so. For the sake of categorization, one might call them ‘evangelical-oriented films’ or even ‘evangelical apocalyptic films’. These films attempt to use a biblical orientation to portray the end of time and are based on evangelical visions of Christianity which focus on spreading the Christian message. For example, Left Behind (2001) brought to the big screen the story told in the novel with the same title, written by Tim LaHaye and Jerry Jenkins. The movie portrays events surrounding the apocalyptic drama based on biblical interpretation, particularly on pre-millennial interpretations of biblical apocalyptic texts. Left Behind plays off the concept of rapture, and uses a dramatic portrayal of the rapture to make the evangelical appeal to the audience. The video release of the movie even has its star, Kirk Cameron, appearing after the film to make an appeal to spread the word about the film so that the popular film industry would make more films with spiritual intent (Ostwalt 2012: 173). So, Left Behind represents a new type of popular film, one that bases itself on the biblical drama but also has strong evangelical intent behind it. Other films seem to follow in the same vein. For example, both The Omega Code (1999) and Megiddo: The Omega Code II (2002) are presented as contemporary visions of biblical prophecy that portray events foretold concerning the end of time (Ostwalt 2002: 171). In the video version of Megiddo, Hal Lindsey, author of the 1970 book The Late Great Planet Earth, appears to recommend the movie as an accurate portrayal of biblical predictions concerning the apocalypse.
In Secular Steeples (2012: 173-74), I examined several evangelical-oriented apocalyptic films and suggested several characteristics shared among them. As such, these films make up a sub-genre of religious films in our popular culture. Some of those characteristics are:
These films use biblical narratives to guide an understanding of apocalyptic events tied to contemporary circumstances.
The films consider the Bible to be a guide to the apocalypse, containing clues to the end emplanted in historical settings. The films are meant to help decipher the clues.
The films portray and focus on an Antichrist figure.
The films assume that the end of the world is unavoidable in light of a coming Kingdom of God.
Certain signs and symbols revolving around Israel, the Middle East, religious strife, the global community, natural disasters, and a charismatic Antichrist abound in these movies.
These movies are violent and reject the notion of world peace or any peace outside of God’s Kingdom.
So, when films that focus on presenting the apocalyptic drama based on interpretations of biblical texts are wrapped in a particular evangelical package, we get a growing body of movies that purposefully strive to use the medium of film to advocate a particular religious perspective to popular audiences. These films I call evangelical
Supernatural Films
So far, I have mentioned Jesus films (The Passion), Bible films (The Book of Eli), apocalyptic films (The Road), and evangelical films (Left Behind). All these films of recent release are either overtly or implicitly based on biblical narratives, concepts, or themes. At the very least, they make implied reference to the Bible for thematic material. To this list, we should add yet another category of film that has become popular in recent years—supernatural films. These films, while not overtly Christian or biblical, deal with the supernatural as subject matter. In films ranging in theme from vampires to fairy tales to wizards, movie theaters and television have become immersed in tales from the supernatural world. For example, the Twilight series of vampire romance novels (Meyer 2005, 2006, 2007, 2008) has gained immense popularity, first as novels, and then as movies. The subject matter is obviously supernatural, and the cynic might simply chalk their popularity up to a passing fad among a teenage audience. Nevertheless, the topic points out a growing fascination in our culture with the supernatural in general. Sandra Gravett, a Hebrew Bible scholar, has written about the Twilight phenomenon with insight and sensitivity to how the stories reflect a deeper spiritual dimension to our culture. Gravett explores how the Twilight tales bring into focus spiritual questions about ‘faith, redemption, and hope as well as demonstrate positive values’ (Gravett 2011: 1). Gravett’s exploration of religious themes in these stories demonstrates how popular books, or movies, can function religiously by bringing to a wide audience ultimate questions about ultimate human issues (Gravett 2010).
In the same way, the television series Once Upon a Time (2011) explores religious concepts and spiritual questions through a drama loosely based on fairy tales and the characters from those tales. Beautiful Creatures (2013) follows a similar pattern and formula as Twilight by exploring love and romance between humans and supernatural creatures. When movies and television shows move into the fantasy realm (Once Upon a Time) or the supernatural realm (Beautiful Creatures), restrictions that govern more realistic stories are removed, and the films are free to explore spiritual and religious issues while viewers are free to reflect religiously about the themes of the stories. These supernatural films free up the hermeneutic process to a creativity that many have never previously experienced in their thinking about the supernatural. Many times, religious thinking is bound by orthodoxies and traditions, but by watching films that deal with the supernatural, viewers can be creative in their thinking about some of the same religious themes that are otherwise tradition-bound. Questions about good and evil, love and commitment, sacrifice, redemption, eternity, and the like receive treatment in these films and, in a sense, provide a safe haven for viewers to process their thoughts about spirituality unhindered and unfettered by traditional orthodoxies. In an exciting possibility, these films might liberate viewers to think seriously about spirituality in ways not sanctioned by traditional religions, which tend to promote only creedal formulas about spiritual matters and questions.
The power of film to free the mind to explore spirituality can be illustrated by reference to the multiple Academy Award-winning film by Ang Lee, Life of Pi (2012), based on the novel by Yann Martel (2001). This fantasy story does not incorporate the supernatural realm by trading on supernatural characters so much as it does by immersing the viewer into an uncharted transcendent realm of adventure, confusing for the viewer the line between reality and fantasy. The movie is spiritual by definition, the story being one that promises to bring one to belief in God or to illustrate faith in God. The protagonist in the film studies Christianity, Islam, and Hinduism and seeks in all religions the key to finding divine truth. That key, ironically, is left to the viewer’s discretion, inviting the viewer to make judgments concerning fantasy and reality and entrusting the viewer to find truth in the fantastic as opposed to the factual bound up in reality. The viewer is presented with two versions of one story—one fantastic and one realistic—which is real? Which is true? When one finds truth, one finds God; but this movie suggests that the truth lies not in reality but in myth. Life of Pi frees the viewer to explore the spiritual and the religious, unbound by tradition and creed, creatively exposing beliefs to examination and question. In this sense, Life of Pi takes the viewer on a supernatural journey to the heart of myth.
Finally, one cannot examine the growing popularity of supernatural themes in film without at least mentioning the extremely popular Harry Potter films and books. J.K. Rowling’s series of Harry Potter adventure books (1997, 1999a, 1999b, 2000, 2003, 2005, 2007) sparked an immensely popular film series as well. Rowling’s stories take the viewer into a magical world of wizardry, spells, and mischief while exploring the eternal conflict of good and evil. That readers and viewers follow Rowling’s protagonists through their own ordeals as they mature into young adulthood provide these stories with a universal coming-of-age appeal and make them a rite-of-passage series. Whether meaning to or not, Rowling has tapped into Jungian archetypes in developing her stories, and the struggles of her beloved characters invite the viewers to reflect upon their own lives and struggles to transcend (Ostwalt 2012: 140-45). The Harry Potter adventures introduce the readers and viewers into an alternative reality, which, because of its universal application through archetypes, becomes the viewer’s own reality. Watching the Harry Potter films becomes an exercise in spiritual and moral development, a participatory experience that leads the viewer to ask and explore basic spiritual, moral, and even theological questions.
What I intend with this short review of films that explore religion, the Bible, and spirituality is to suggest that popular culture in the contemporary context is rife with interest in spiritual matters. Movies are particularly adept at allowing spiritual exploration because films can be participatory, even sacramental in certain circumstances, involving the viewer in an alternative world where possibilities and truths are not bound by orthodoxies but freed in the creativity of the participant’s mind. As such, films can aid in transcendence, functioning religiously, leading the viewer on a spiritual journey. Popularity of films that function in this way parallels twenty-first-century religious trends, at least in America, that seem to be moving away from traditional religious loyalties and toward a more generic spirituality. Where does one find God these days anyway? A sacred site of worship? A sacred text? Or perhaps at the movie theater? The latter choice seems a particularly poignant possibility when the movie viewed there either purposively or not engages the topics and themes relevant to spirituality and religion.
Religion and Film as Discipline and Method
As mentioned earlier, studies in religion and film have proliferated during the past dozen or so years. One can legitimately question whether or not religion and film studies constitute a ‘discipline’ or ‘sub-discipline’ in religious studies, much like the interdisciplinary field of ‘religion and literature’. Certainly, the growing interest in religion and film studies parallels a general growing interest in spirituality. And if spirituality is offered up in more and more generous doses in movies, it makes sense for a specialized discipline to develop in order to fully study the phenomenon. For a long time, religious studies scholars studied films as they would books. But many in the scholarly community have found the textual approach inadequate for the study of films, since films involve a much greater sensory component that make them more than narratives alone. Films are narratives, but they are also auditory and visual, and require sophisticated methods for study. What has emerged in the last few years are more fully developed approaches to the study of religion and film, and to the extent that a methodology has emerged to guide hermeneutics for a growing body of religious material, I think one could make the case that religion and film studies constitute a legitimate discipline within religious studies. To illustrate the diversity and scope of approaches with this still-developing area of study, I will briefly describe some of the literature that has emerged during the last several years. Two types of scholarly books stand out in religion and film studies. First are works on teaching methodology and on the status of religion and film as an area of study. Since religion and film courses are being offered on college campuses in great numbers, the need for scholarly collections on teaching religion and film has produced some extremely helpful and insightful collections. Second are full-length works that are devoted to the examination of films in the context of religious and spiritual themes. Included in this category are works that treat films along with other cultural products.
Religion and Film Books
Without trying to be exhaustive, I will highlight three edited collections produced in 2008 and 2009 dealing with the study of religion and film. All three, either explicitly or implicitly, deal with the nature of this burgeoning area of study within religious studies in general, and with various methods and approaches to teaching religion and film. Taken together, these three books provide a broad retrospective about the field and about where the field of religion and film studies might be headed.
Teaching Religion and Film, edited by Gregory J. Watkins (2008)
This edited volume published by Oxford University Press is part of the American Academy of Religion Series, ‘Teaching Religious Studies Series’. Editor Watkins has brought together an interdisciplinary team of scholars with the goal of bringing the pedagogical challenges of the study into bold relief. Watkins begins the work by raising a broad question about religious studies in general and characterizes religious studies as a ‘field’ but not a ‘discipline’ (2008: 3). This sets the parameters for his exploration of religion and film. Religion and film, for Watkins, is an interdisciplinary study requiring and benefiting from a variety of disciplines and approaches. Given this orientation to the ‘field’ of religion and film, Watkins then organizes the volume around various approaches to the study, always with an eye toward pedagogy and method.
After an introductory chapter by Watkins, the book is organized into four sections. Part I, ‘Establishing Shot: Viewing the Field of Religion and Film’, sets the parameters for the study of religion and film and makes some contributions to establishing a more comprehensive method for an interdisciplinary field of study like this one. The essays in Part I are particularly helpful for the instructor who is new to using films or who wants to address pedagogical and hermeneutical issues in using films in religion courses. Part II, ‘Film and the Teaching of Religious Traditions’, contains individual essays focusing on how films can be an entrée to teaching about religious traditions. The essays here are helpful either for teaching courses about individual traditions, or for teaching about traditions in a course like ‘World Religions’. Part III, ‘The Religious Studies Approach’, returns to questions of theory and method, and places the religion and film field within the religious studies purview. Part IV, ‘The Values Approach’, demonstrates how film can be used to examine or even promote certain ethical or value orientations. In this sense, films and the teaching of films are shown not to be ‘value-free’ products of culture. Watkins’s edited volume is groundbreaking in that it is the first attempt of its kind to examine the nature of the field, the methods and theories employed in the field, the parameters marking the field, and even the role religion and film as a field of study can play to further the overall direction of religious studies in general.
The Routledge Companion to Religion and Film, edited by John Lyden (2009)
Like the Watkins’s volume, Lyden’s volume engages the various components that have gone into defining the religion and film field. Many of the same parameters guide his book, such as the recognition that methodology is diverse and multifaceted, that films have a place in the study of religions, and that the field is in an early state of development. In addition, Lyden’s collection also helps to move that development along by seeking to define what makes the study of religion and film unique within the larger context of religious studies.
The Routledge Companion begins with an introduction by Lyden, where he sketches the field as creative and diverse, representing a ‘dynamic’ and ‘multifaceted’ area of study that energizes religious studies and adds breadth to interdisciplinary approaches to religion (2009: 1). Lyden’s collection is organized into four parts. Part I sketches a history of the intersection between religion and film from 1895 to the present. The essays here provide something new to the field, a long view of how the field can be contextualized and understood in a historical context. Many familiar with the study of religion and film tend to see it as a relatively recent development in academic circles. The essays in Part I provide a broader perspective as a backdrop to the academic adoption of the study of religion and film. Part II seeks to demonstrate how certain religious traditions have been depicted in film. This provides a different perspective than trying to use films to study traditions, for these essays often demonstrate how films carry certain value judgments about the traditions in question, often distorting or otherwise misrepresenting religious traditions. Part III focuses on methods, and the essays demonstrate various ways of studying films using feminist, psychoanalytic, cultural theory, theological, and audience reception approaches to the study of film and religion. Finally, Part IV tends to be thematic, focusing on ideas and concepts often covered in religious studies. The Lyden volume represents an important stage in religion and film studies development. By recognizing a long historical component and a multifaceted methodological grounding, the Routledge Companion moves one step closer to recognizing the study of religion and film as a valid discipline in and of itself.
The Continuum Companion to Religion and Film, edited by William L. Blizek (2009)
Blizek’s collection presents yet a third volume reflecting upon and attempting to define the field in relation to religious studies. Blizek is forthright in his Introduction: ‘Religion and Film is a legitimate and important field of studies within the religious studies field’ (2009: 1, 5). He is right, and he ends his introduction with a series of areas where he sees this field developing. This discussion not only serves to suggest future areas of scholarship and development, but it also demonstrates that the field is still evolving, still trying to find its way, even though it has proven itself as a legitimate area of study. As such, Blizek reinforces the conception of the field as dynamic, creative, and broadly dispersed across the disciplinary spectrum.
Beyond the ‘Introduction’, Blizek’s book is organized into four parts, including a very helpful and extensive ‘Resources’ section that comprises Part IV. This section includes a compiled Film Index that can be used for reference while working with the book or as a starting point for film research. Part I of the book explores the field from the academic perspective by sketching out the various academic approaches to the study of religion and film. While this section tends toward the methodological, it contains some interesting new perspectives on how films might be used in the study of religion. Part II, much like the previous two volumes, includes essays on the depiction of various religious traditions in movies. Blizek includes a focus on world cinema here, and this directs the discussion to multiculturalism in religious traditions and world cinema, a nice addition to the conversation. Part III is thematic in nature and organized around themes like ‘Holocaust Movies’, redemption, ‘The Saviour Figure’, karma, and evil. Blizek’s assumption with his book is that the study of religion and film has arrived, and that scholars now should seek to incorporate it more fully into the life of religious studies.
Each of these three books on religion and film are similar in that they focus on the nature of the field of religion and film, the methodologies and approaches employed in the field, the interdisciplinary and intercultural character of the study, and the possibilities for future development. Yet, each book has something unique to offer as well, and it is my bet that increasingly, such books will appear under the category ‘Religion and Film’ as a method and approach is adopted more fully within the academy.
A Growing Body and Diversity of Literature in Religion and Film Studies
While edited volumes such as the above books are appearing on the topic and nature of religion and film studies, a variety of scholars are forging ahead with books that take the religion and film approach for granted. I will mention a handful of such books to give an idea of the variety of approaches within the field and the variety of topics taken up by the field.
There are various religion and film books that might be considered theological in nature. These books examine film from a certain theological perspective and are often interested in the ability of films to illustrate or aid in the reflection upon theological commitments and ideas. Christopher Deacy and Gaye Williams Ortiz published Theology and Film: Challenging the Sacred/Secular Divide in 2008. In short, Deacy and Ortiz see film as a legitimate and serious area of study for theologians. Apart from theoretical issues, which they take up in Part One of the book and frame according to H. Richard Niebuhr’s Christ and Culture (1952), the authors contend that film and theology can and should be engaged in theological dialogue and that film can carry theological messages (2008: 14-75). In the second part of the book, various essays engage and discuss certain theological perspectives on topics such as feminism and violence and even eschatology. It is clear that the authors and editors of this work view movies as cultural texts that reflect and can even develop theological attitudes and beliefs. So the person reading this book is likely to engage in a reflection on beliefs and how they are critiqued or supported by contemporary films. In this sense, films become a type of popular theological primer for a culture that is as apt to get its theology from a movie house as from a house of worship.
There are many other books that approach the study of film primarily with a theological lens. For example, Reel Spirituality, by Robert K. Johnston (2000), presupposes that theology ‘is increasingly found outside the church as well as within it’ (2000: 14). Johnston is forthright about the purpose of his book—it ‘is intended to help the Christian moviegoer enter into theological conversation with film’ (2000: 14). Couched within this admission is the startling revelation that secular culture can indeed carry sacred import and can be a powerful vehicle for values instruction and belief structures. From there, Johnston goes on to engage a wide range of films with a remarkable breadth of questions relevant to the theological task. George Aichele and Richard Walsh take a similar perspective about dialogue between films and belief but focus their study, Screening Scripture: Intertextual Connections between Scripture and Film (2002), on Bible films, or movies that are not based on the Bible, but contain biblical themes. Their book focuses the reader’s attention on scripture, but through the hermeneutic lens of film. For example, in the chapter on the movie Sling Blade, Mark Roncace examines the film’s major character, Karl, who is a mentally challenged man released from a mental institution. Karl had murdered his mother and her lover when he was young. While this film is obviously not a Bible film, Roncace makes the case that Karl functions as a ‘Christ figure’ similar to stock characters in Western films. In this sense, Karl becomes a ‘warrior judge’ (Aichele and Walsh 2002: 286) or mimics other ‘images of Christ’ (Aichele and Walsh 2002: 298-99) as the movie retells some of the Jesus story through its depiction of the protagonist. Likewise, in the chapter on Boys Don’t Cry, author Erin Runions examines the movie in dialogue with Ezekiel 16, reflecting on sexual violence and gender construction. In this case, the movie becomes a lens back to the biblical text, while the biblical text illuminates religious and ideological themes in the film. Other theological approaches to film tend to be topical or thematic, such as Roy Anker’s beautifully written, Catching Light: Looking for God in the Movies (2004), which uses the metaphor of light to relate film art to divine light. Likewise, Richard Walsh’s Finding St. Paul in Film (2005) locates and discusses the ‘multiple Pauls’ (2005: 10) one finds in films and film references and brings them into dialogue with the ‘Pauls’ of Christian thought and history.
While many of the religion and film books are theological, others are more secular in scope and seek a broader dialogue with film, in order to link films to ideology, cultural studies in general, or philosophical and religious themes. Sacred Space: The Quest for Transcendence in Science Fiction Film and Television, by Douglas E. Cowan (2010), or Faith, Film and Philosophy: Big Ideas on the Big Screen, edited by R. Douglas Geivett and James S. Spiegel (2007), serve as examples of works that are largely thematic when it comes to religious ideas, but unlike the books mentioned above are not necessarily theological in intent. In addition, books like Barry Taylor’s Entertainment Theology (2008) or Conrad Ostwalt’s Secular Steeples (2012) include examinations of films and theories about how films function in society, but they are broader works in general and examine films as part of the overall cultural matrix. What these various books have in common is the presupposition that films are an integral part of postmodern society and can be an important purveyor of society’s values and beliefs.
Conclusion
Since 2000, interest in religion and film studies has been stronger and more widespread than ever. The works and films mentioned here barely scratch the surface when it comes to the study of religion and film. Across the country, in universities, liberal arts colleges, and seminaries, classes are being taught in religion and film. Books on religion and film are being written and consumed. The interest in this topic runs the gamut from theology to cultural studies. While there may not be a unifying thread in the academy to keep this field of study together as a discipline, methods and theories have emerged that are rich and varied, borrowing from and developing theoretical approaches from a variety of academic studies. And perhaps it is the case, as Roy Anker suggests (2004: 5, 16), that there is something inherently religious (spiritual?) about movies in and of themselves that makes the cultural marriage of religion and film unavoidable. Whether the manipulation of light or reality, or the ability of film to aid in transcendence, or the demands of film that the participant engage belief, there does seem to be something in our appreciation of and experience of film that bites into our spiritual conscience in ways that other cultural forms do not. I imagine it is in part the multisensory character of film that mimics religious and spiritual ritual that helps cement the connection, and I imagine that because of this, the study of religion and film will continue and that scholars of religion and film will help us negotiate the ideological, theological, and spiritual intricacies of the big screen as long as there are movies in the making.
On a final note, as I write these concluding words, the History Channel has just premiered The Bible mini-series/epic movie. This mini-series retells stories from the Bible, ranging from Genesis to Revelation, giving visual impact to well-known and often-chronicled Bible stories. The executive producers are actress Roma Downey and producer Mark Burnett, who is well known for his success with reality TV programs such as Survivor, The Apprentice, and Shark Tank. The premier of the series set record ratings. What does this tell us, when a producer famous for reality TV programs takes a stab at retelling a story that has been retold so many times before, and millions tune in? Some think there is a real spiritual hunger in our culture and that film is an effective medium to help fill the void. Others see this as pandering the stories to a contemporary audience, in the process doing the stories a real disservice.
The Bible is impressive in its scope, attempting to visualize the entire Bible narrative. Of course, in that sense, it fails. Important stories are left out completely, or told with such a bare plot as to be almost incomprehensible. For example, the series does not provide episodes concerning Isaac and Jacob, making it difficult to understand the captivity narratives. Also, Solomon barely warrants a scene, so it is impossible to glean anything meaningful from the series concerning the fall of the Davidic monarchy. As a whole, the series is episodic, forcing one to fill in the gaps of plot lines and character development. Most stories, such as the Saul and David narratives, would be difficult to follow if the audience were not already familiar with the plot lines and characters. This highlights the question about the intended audience. If the intended audience is non-believers, it is hard to imagine how that audience could conjure up the stamina needed to last through the rapidly unfolding and underdeveloped stories portrayed in the mini-series. However, if the audience is made up of believers and those interested in biblical narratives, then it is understandable how this mini-series has become so hugely popular. At its best, the series gives life to a variety of biblical stories by presenting them without all the sanitizing that is often the hallmark of dramatic portrayals of the Bible. In this sense, the series follows the groundbreaking efforts of Gibson with The Passion of the Christ.
What this series does best is to take well-known Bible stories and humanize them, adding the grit, dirt, and violence that are so much a part of the context, but are often glossed over for various reasons, including piety. For example, Adam and Eve, while attractive in a reality TV sort of way, are filthy, as is Abraham. Of course, this is fitting for the first humans and for a desert nomad. Even King David has dirty fingernails in this series. And while the Saul and David narratives may lack character complexity, they are fraught with violent and graphic scenes that bring these narratives to life in a way rarely done before. Is this pandering to a contemporary audience’s need for action, or is this an honest attempt to capture and visualize the violence in biblical narratives? Even the birth of Jesus gets the ‘earthy’ treatment, complete with scenes of Mary’s labor. In this sense, the series adds a level of realism that is frequently missing from Bible dramas. Perhaps this reflects Burnett’s experience in producing reality TV, providing his major contribution to the history of Bible films.
Critical reception of the mini-series has been mixed—much of the negative criticism has been directed at inaccuracies in transferring the biblical narratives to film. Like all book-to-film transfers, there are always departures, and always critics who decry the film for its failure to achieve complete accuracy. Sure, Jesus still does not look Middle Eastern, and the stories are filled with departures from the narratives. However, judgments of this mini-series based solely on literal depictions of the stories are misguided and miss the obvious fact that various narratives in the Bible are not completely consistent even within the text itself or across various translations. The important, and revealing, issue to be considered with this mini-series is not so much how accurately the episodes present the text, but rather how or if the narratives can be told convincingly through graphic filming and visualization. If this mini-series tells us nothing else, Burnett proves that the Bible can be effectively, realistically, and dramatically presented through a visual medium like film. Even though many viewers know these stories well, The Bible at its best is riveting. Perhaps the ultimate success of the History Channel’s effort will tell us more about where we stand as an entertainment-rich and religion-poor culture.
Footnotes
Funding
This research received no specific grant from any funding agency in the public, commercial, or not-for-profit sectors.