Early in Roland Joffé’s There Be Dragons is an episode in which two young boys named Josemaría Escrivá and Manolo Torres sample cacao beans at a chocolate factory owned by Josemaría’s father, while the kindly Jewish manager Honorio (Derek Jacobi) waits eagerly for their impressions. Frowning in disappointment at Manolo’s hapless guess (almond?) and smiling approvingly at Josemaría’s assessment (cinnamon!), Honorio upbraids Manolo, not for guessing wrong, but for “scoffing at what he can’t experience.”
“Love can unleash the divine flavors hidden within,” Honorio explains, adding thoughtfully, “Not everyone has a taste for the divine. … I wonder why that is.”
In that vignette is There Be Dragons in a nutshell (or a cacao bean).
Josemaría has been chosen; Manolo has not — and there’s nothing he can do about it. Joffé, who wrote and directed, sympathizes with Manolo’s plight, which he seems to feel is really his own. A self-professed “wobbly agnostic,” the director of The Mission is clearly fascinated by God and the people who know him, but he considers himself to have no taste for the divine — though he is determined not to scoff, like Manolo, at those who experience what he can’t.
Alas, the scene is also typical of the film’s problems. The small-screen triteness and obviousness of the dialogue, for one thing. For another, the problem of Manolo: a fictional character futilely charged with carrying the dramatic burden of a film he is patently unable to carry, while a far more charismatic and intriguing historical figure stands off to one side, like young David glowing with promise and purpose while King Saul flails impotently, drowning in his own deficiency.
The difference is that where Saul eventually quits the stage, leaving David to assume the spotlight, Manolo staggers to the end of There Be Dragons with the weight of the narrative firmly on his shoulders. Josemaría stays on the sidelines and eventually slips away, almost unaware of the drama not quite intersecting his story.
You wouldn’t guess any of this from the opening shot, a portentous time-freezing tracking shot (if that’s the right term here) of the moment of Josemaría Escrivá’s death in Rome. Pushing through an open window into Escrivá’s office, the camera contemplates a rosary suspended in midair, along with sheets of paper and other paraphernalia scattered in the air by their owner’s collapse to the floor.
It’s like an angel’s-eye view of the death of a saint — and it seems to belong to a completely different movie than the one that follows. Nothing in There Be Dragons earns the importance with which that opening shot invests Josemaría’s death, or connects with it in any way.
As played by English actor Charlie Cox (Stardust), Josemaría emerges as a likable, dedicated, virtuous young man much loved by his circle of friends, the first generation of Opus Dei. There are a few evocative scenes, such as the impression that a barefoot friar’s tracks in the snow make on the young Josemaría. Yet despite a line or two about Opus Dei spreading to other countries, there’s little sense of Escrivá himself as a figure of any particular note.
He seems fairly anonymous and uncontroversial: a nimble-minded peacemaker who cuts through political debates by underscoring the valid moral concerns on each side, a tireless servant walking 20 miles a day in tattered shoes, an old-school Hollywood priest braving anticlerical persecutions, boldly hearing public confessions dressed in street clothes. Intriguingly, the film doesn’t shy away from the theme of mortification, depicting a grieving Josemaría lashing himself in reparation for violence in the streets.
Yet these bits and pieces don’t add up to a story. The story — we’re told in the opening scenes, set more or less in the present day — is that of a man “who went looking for a saint ... and found my father instead.” Does that sound like a story that’s more or less interesting than the one about the saint?
In a way, it’s the story of multiple generations of dysfunctional father-son relationships in the Torres family. There’s Manolo’s relationship with his own father, a ruthless industrialist whose lesson to his offspring is: “When push comes to shove, a man has only one obligation: to choose the winning side.” There’s old Manolo’s relationship with his grown son, a journalist named Robert (Dougray Scott) who reluctantly contacts his old man because Robert happens to be researching a book on his father’s boyhood friend Escrivá. Then there’s Robert’s reluctance to become a father himself, coming as he does from a long line of bad fathers.
Just how bad a father Manolo was even Robert doesn’t fully understand. It’s in connection with the dark secrets of his own past that Manolo warns his son, “There be dragons” — a reference to the legend marking terra incognita on medieval maps. Yet while Manolo may have been a monster, he was hardly a dragon. Even his father was no more than an ogre. As for Manolo, he is, at most, a troll — a creature of the banality of evil, dull, brutish, insipid. He’s the sort of paltry sinner that inspired the devil’s lament in C.S. Lewis’ “Screwtape Proposes a Toast.”
During the Spanish Civil War, Manolo joins the communist front and falls for a foxy guerrilla chick named Ildiko (former Bond girl Olga Kurylenko), the kind of party girl whose commitment to the cause is considerable consolation to male comrades facing death. Handsome as Manolo is, the better Ildiko knows him, the more unappealing she finds him. She knows him well enough after about 30 seconds. Ildiko reserves her true affection for the charismatic Republican leader (Rodrigo Santoro), a flamboyant figure who might have made a better foil for Escrivá had the story revolved around the two of them.
Yes, the Spanish Civil War. “We called them Fascists; they called us Communists — really the war was much more complicated than that,” old Manolo reminisces in a line that’s about the film’s only concession to those complications. That, and the fact that Manolo is actually a double agent — not out of conviction, something he seems to lack pretty much completely, but simply because he comes from money, which aligns him with the Fascists.
Too often, the film stumbles over nothing. Take the strange verbal foreshadowings of the ensuing action. In one scene, a semi-unsympathetic officer shelters Escrivá from his own forces, muttering something about belonging in a madhouse — and immediately after this Josemaría and his fellow fugitives take refuge in, yes, a madhouse. Here, a strangely soulful inmate tells Escrivá, “I think you have mountains to climb” — and a moment later his companions announce that their only hope is to cross over the Pyrenees. By the time we got to a line about the greatest enemies being within, I couldn’t help noting that the speaker was a very pregnant woman about to give birth.
It’s not unwatchable. At times one can see a serious epic trying to emerge from the muddled proceedings. One can even feel the hand of the director of The Mission, a far better historical drama also contrasting a heroic priest and a flawed soldier. There are flashes of real religious feeling, particularly from Cox, who projects genuineness and openness. Merely to see St. Josemaría and Opus Dei sympathetically portrayed is refreshing. Alas, it’s precisely these glimpses of the film There Be Dragons might have been that make its failure, and the lost opportunity it represents, all the more disappointing.
Steve Greydanus is the Register’s film critic. He blogs at NCRegister.com.
Content advisory: Large-scale battle sequences; a number of point-blank shooting deaths; sexual themes and references. Teens and up.
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See also There Be Dragons—in 30 seconds!
Man, I wanted to like this movie. Like you, the best rating I could give it was “not unwatchable.” Here’s my review:
http://simchafisher.wordpress.com/2011/04/27/where-be-story-editor/
This is a thorough, fair review of the film… sounds very much like the version I screened last September. After I see the final cut, I’ll write my own review, but I suspect I’ll have little to add to your own. Well done!
Thanks for the heads up, Steven. We were going to go see “dragons” but at $10 per ticket, maybe now we’ll just wait for netflix.
Very interesting to read this after the spectacle of rejected screenwriter Barbara Nicolosi excoriating you on Facebook as a sellout. She probably has a case that her script was better but the hysterical invective she directed at you - predicting that you would be bought by Opus Dei & the producers - was sad.
Thank you for your thoughtful review. What you’ve written does make me want to see this movie, and while I haven’t yet seen it, I’ll risk being presumptuous and impertinent by volunteering these thoughts, anyway: it seems to me that what you’ve written might well suggest approaching the film in another way—that this is the best that a “wobbly agnostic” view of the world can do when it comes to viewing a saint like Josemaria Escriva, or anybody else. Because there is something there that it tries to grasp, but at best only comes up with intriguing glimpses, because it as yet does not know how to see fully; either because it does not want to, or is simply unable to. It does not yet know how to make that sort of paradigm shift. It’s a partial blindness, and that, in itself, can make for fascinating commentary. I don’t mean this as an uncharitable swipe at either Roland Joffe, who I’m glad portrays Escriva and Opus Dei sympathetically, or at any agnostic; rather, it’s a question that we may ask ourselves—what is it that prevents us from seeing? Even those of us who are practicing Catholics know from personal experience, or from observing others, that one can profess to be Catholic, but functionally agnostic or atheist; that we go to Mass on Sunday, but live as though God doesn’t exist. Indeed, “Lord, I believe; help my unbelief.”
You also write: ”[Josemaria Escriva] seems fairly anonymous and uncontroversial: a nimble-minded peacemaker who cuts through political debates by underscoring the valid moral concerns on each side, a tireless servant walking 20 miles a day in tattered shoes, an old-school Hollywood priest braving anticlerical persecutions, boldly hearing public confessions dressed in street clothes.” Now, that’s also very intriguing, to my mind—because isn’t that the way our larger culture tends to view saints and holy people? As somehow “uncontroversial” do-gooders? Furthermore, we are used to thinking of Christianity as somehow un-revolutionary (whereas Chesterton, among others, would tell us just the opposite!). Fr. Robert Barron recently mentioned how Maureen Dowd scoffed that Bob Dylan, in a recent concert tour in China, has “sold out” to just making money; he didn’t sing any of his more famous “revolutionary” protest songs. But then, Barron realized that Dylan started each and every playlist with the stuff from his Christian period—indeed, if you don’t serve God, you gotta serve somebody. The revolutionary nature of Christianity is often the elephant in the room.
Here, I’ll shut up now and I’ll go see the movie.
Nicolosi’s allegations were particularly offbase, uncharitable, and offputting.
Incidentally, I can add that Steve told me his opinion of the film soon after he saw it, and it was the opinion expressed above.
Why am I not surprised? When will Catholics quit thinking the world is on their side? When will Catholics quit bashing the media on one hand and praising it on the other hand?
Lots of people have agendas as to why they may want movies to either do well or not do well. Some people might promote a mediocre movie because they feel that despite its shortcomings it has a good message, or because they want people to learn about a person (in this case a saint) or maybe read the source material book (like with the Narnia movies). Some people might have a vested interest in a movie failing because they got snubbed from the project. Some critics might promote an unworthy film to further their career. Steve, however, is honest to a fault. He is well-known for this. Yes, I am biased, but at least I am admitting my bias.
This deeply saddens me to hear this review. I had hoped for so much more from this film…but this seems to be the case with so many films depicting Saints…they gravitate toward emptiness and only flash past the most critical/historical moments of their lives. We need solid Saints dear Hollywood.
@ Simcha: Great review. I may borrow one of your lines for my “Lines I wish I had written” series.
@ Wsquared: Thanks for your thoughts. Actually, I think agnostics (“wobbly” and otherwise) and unbelievers of other types can often produce quite moving tributes to saints and sanctity. Witness what Joffe himself accomplished in The Mission, written by Robert Bolt, himself another agnostic—and the screenwriter of A Man For All Seasons, another such work.
Other examples include Mark Twain’s Joan of Arc (declared by the crusty old freethinker to be his favorite of all his novels), The Gospel According to St. Matthew by Pier Paolo Pasolini (an unbelieving Marxist with disordered proclivities), Sophie Scholl: The Final Days by Marc Ruthemund (an unbeliever who said, but did not literally mean, that he “believed in God the whole time” he was making this film), The Ninth Day by the apparently agnostic Volker Schlöndorff; etc.
Huh, Nick, have you read Steven Greydanus’s review ? He is not saying that “There Be Dragons” is actually anti-Catholic. Actually, he is saying that this movie is not at all anti-Catholic and that saint Josemaria Escriva and his founding of the Opus Dei are depicted in a very positive way. But, unfortunately, the movie is mediocre, from an artistic point of view and, therefore, not very enjoyable, though watchable.
This has nothing to do with “the world” (in the sense of John’s Gospel, I presume), nor with “bashing / praising the media”.
Or maybe I did not understand what you were trying to say.
I am glad I came across this review. I will save my money and wait for Netflix, as someone already wrote. I’ve seen many good movies about saints, but they are usually made abroad, and have English subtitles. EWTN has aired a number of them, and Netflix carries many to rent.
“an unbelieving Marxist with disordered proclivities”?
Remember how in “Sanford and Son,” there were two cops—a white cop who would say things like “the alleged perpetrator attempted unauthorized entry into the domicile but absconded when confronted by law-enforcement officers,” and the black cop would say “some cat tried to break in your house but ran away when he saw us.”
Let me play black cop.
Pasolini was a gay commie.
Victor Morton: You’re still holding back a bit, actually.
We saw the movie last night and I just checked out your review. I agree with what you said, unless you look at it from a Spanish perspective. The film looked very Spanish to me. Interesting characterizations of the sinfulness of both sides when they do not look for God. Also, St Josemaria died as he lived, doing everything, especially the small, ordinary things of life for the Glory of God.
I just saw this movie today bringing my eleven year old son and his ten year old friend. I asked his friend about the movie, and he said, “I like it.” I was expecting an anwer of “boring”, but it never came out of his mouth.
I have not seen a movie made like There Be Dragons in years. I was on the edge of my seat all through the film. Joffe said,in an interview, that the movie cannot give what you don’t have. If a listener does not have appreciation for classical music then he or she won’t appreciate classical music. It’s as simple as that. I would say that this movie is not for the superficial. But, there are so many virtuous men and women out there who will like this movie just like that ten year old kid.
Ugh, Steven, this is nonsense. You assume people who don’t like this movie lack taste, or virtue? Please. It is not a good movie. To be blunt, it stinks. You can like it if you want. But be honest about it.
I was skeptical, initially, and by golly, we loved it!
I saw the movie Friday May 7th after reading your review. I have to say you have a completely misconstrued interpretation of the film. You describe the scene where Honorio asks the boys to sample some chocolate and say…“In that vignette is There Be Dragons in a nutshell (or a cacao bean).” The entire idea of this movie, set in the midst of the Spanish civil war was that the reality of the war and of our life by comparison is not as simple as we would afterward have circumstances portrayed. For instance you completely mischaracterized that scene. First of all, the audience doesn’t learn that Honorio is Jewish until JoseMaria, fresh out of seminary, comes to his death bed to offer him the final rites. Which ended in a beautiful scene where without any attempt to proselytize the old man, offered him the succor of not dying alone and in their mutual compassion and love for one another and God prayed in their respective language and traditions. You also fail to mention that it was JoseMaria’s father who owned the chocolate factory and so of course he would be favored by the manager.
The character of Manolo played out perfectly, I don’t see why you would think that the Communist general would make a better foil, for one, Manolo was not a foil he was a child hood friend who hasn’t taken a contrary road to that of Escriva but instead served God in another way; as a double agent for government against the communist. He was the perfect counter part to aiding JoseMaria who all the while presided over secret masses and confessions. He even preserved JoseMaria’s life as his group traveled over the Pyrenees Mountains. After all the two were not only childhood friends but served together for one year in the seminary before Manolo drop out.
“Nothing in There Be Dragons earns the importance with which that opening shot invests Josemaría’s death, or connects with it in any way.” How can the actual life and death of this saint or anyone’s be unworthy of a creative rendition of one’s death? He is unworthy of a still picture frame technique? You forget, or as I suspect, have never been aware of the life and the heroic virtue of the actual man JoseMaria Escirva who as a real person started Opus Dei which has been demonized as some kind of malevolent under ground secret society by certain secular fictional writers. The organization has progressed successfully throughout the world.
The story is one of the spiritual conquest of love and the challenges man faces, the ‘jihad’ if you will that exist within man. It reveals what happens, when we believe those ‘dragons’ exist outside of ourselves in the other person as the communist had. Especially when we know now how pernicious and evil communism is in comparison to what many had imagined it might have evolved into even they did have to ‘crack some eggs’ to make an omelet. The reference “There Be Dragons” is taken from the stories JoseEscriva’s grandmother used to tell the two boys because she believed that there were indeed dragons in the world which of course to Christians is a reference to Satan, to whom alone Communism can be attributed.
In the end I believe that either because you are not Catholic or very well versed in either Catholic tradition or the entwined history of Spain with Christendom that you fail to recognize the actual story. Unfortunately I sense that you are the ‘Manolo’ here and fail to grasp the divine in the film.
@ David (and perhaps @ Steven): Ironically, the film honors Josemaría for refusing to do precisely what you do here, belittle and misrepresent those whom one disagrees with.
One of the film’s best lines was Josemaría upbraiding one of his companions for his anger at the violent revolutionaries who took pleasure in killing: “What would you do to them right now if you could! And wouldn’t you take pleasure in it!” Josemaría insisted on seeing both sides, both points of view—of giving sympathetic consideration of the other side, and critical evaluation of oneself. What would he say to you right now?
David, I encourage you to read the Catechism on the eighth commandment, specifically the bits about rash judgment, calumny and detraction.
I watched the movie yesterday and came away in tears. I thought it weaved the many layers of how life choices have its consequences very well. Of course a movie that is 2 hours long cannot go into too much details about the Spanish Civil War, Manalo and a saint all at the same time! However, Mr. Joffe planted enough vignettes in the story to moved the soul to ponder the consequences of not confronting one’s dragon ...loved it!
Me.GREYDANUS - I thought your criticism is off the mark. Here is a movie definitely worthy of support from EWTN.
@ Chris Thnay: I’m glad you enjoyed the film. If you feel the movie is worthy of support, by all means support it. Frankly, I think the subject matter was worthy of a much better film. I think the money the producers sank into the film was worthy of a better effort from Mr. Joffe. And I think my readers are worthy of the most thoughtful and responsible response to a film I can offer them, no matter what the subject is or who paid for it. And that’s what I’ve offered here.
It seems to me that David and Steven and others may not be adequately distinguishing between reality and art, between a critique of the movie as a work of art and a critique of the movie’s subject, St Josemaria.
It is possible that even a poorly crafted book or film about a saint will have some spiritual benefit to people. The saint’s life itself is inspirational enough that it speaks to people despite the flaws in the work of art. However, it is also possible that a poorly crafted or flawed work about a saint will also turn some people away who might otherwise have benefited from getting to know the saint. St Therese’s writings, for example, have won many souls for Christ and been the cause of many conversions. Their style has also turned many people off because St Therese was not a very good literary stylist and to some people her writing comes across as unpolished, naive, schoolgirlish, overly sentimental.
So it is important to acknowledge that a film depicting St Josemaria, even a flawed or a poorly made film, can and will be used by the Holy Spirit to move people, to win souls. However, the flaws in its crafting may also turn other people away. Just because a flawed film can do some good doesn’t mean that the subject matter doesn’t deserve a better treatment.
So it seems Steven Greydanus and his critics are talking past one another. Greydanus, as a film critic, is interested primarily in the craft of film making. It is his very appreciation of the life of St Josemaria that leads him to call for a better quality of film. He thinks the subject matter deserves the very best art. The defenders of the movie are so in love with St Josemaria and so excited his story is being told that they are willing to overlook the flaws in the movie and in fact get upset and defensive that anyone would even point out that it has flaws. To point out the flaws must mean that one is ignoring the greatness of the saint that the movie is portraying.
It’s rather as if the Eucharist into a poorly constructed, ugly monstrance. The faithful will still see Jesus himself, present in the host despite the container that displays it. And some faithful souls will be so moved by their awareness of that presence that they don’t even notice the ugliness of the monstrance. They may even get angry when someone points out the flaws in the craftsmanship of the monstrance because it seems to them that taking time to consider the vessel which contains the host is to do an injustice to the presence of Christ in the host. This defensiveness baffles the one who is critiquing the monstrance: can’t the other guy see that the true presence of Christ demands a better vessel to properly show reverence for the one it contains? Both the one who worships in love without noticing the flaws and the one who critiques the craftsmanship of the monstrance are acting out of love for the presence of Christ within. But each has a different way of demonstrating that love.
A film is not reality. It is a work of art. A piece of fiction. The events in the film may or may not be accurate portrayals of what really happened. The conversations in the film aren’t what people actually said. All of it has been filtered and interpreted by the screenwriters, the actors, the director, the cinematographers. Each of these people makes artistic choices which may be effective and good art or may be ineffective and bad art.
The point is it’s one thing to promote a movie whether it’s good or bad—there are sound reasons to see and enjoy a flawed work of art for the devotional value of it’s content—but it’s another thing to say that someone who dislikes the film or doesn’t want to see it is unchristian.
I thought this movie was one of the best I’ve seen in a while. I give it five stars out of four. I find it ward to believe that you say Manolo is hardly a dragon. Though I’m hard pressed to call him a dragon, he comes pretty close unless you believe the assassination of the people he killed at point blank range is a minor crime. Manolo is a broken man indeed who’s live was interwoven with that of the life of a saint. And even after he breaks the most terrible news to his son, Manolo finds redemption.
When Robert says he went looking for a saint and found his father instead does not preclude him finding the saint. You see he NEVER had his father and to find him at all was the breakthrough. If it weren’t for asking his father about St. Jose Maria Escriva his father may have never been found. Not only does Roberto find his father, but Jesus himself finds his lost sheep. In the end St. Escriva came back for his friend. Manolo repented of his sins and accepted his redemption. He found meaning in suffering and it was beautiful.
I loved this movie from the beginning to the end, especially the part about the cocoa bean. Its a reality of life that not all of us have a taste for the divine, but that wasn’t the whole lesson. Clearly God chased after this man his whole life and just like the good thief at his death the gates of paradise are open and available to him. God is more generous than we care to remember at times.This movie is a great reminder of his goodness to us.
“Both the one who worships in love without noticing the flaws and the one who critiques the craftsmanship of the monstrance are acting out of love for the presence of Christ within. But each has a different way of demonstrating that love.”
Very well stated, Melanie!
@ Rod Mat: In calling Manolo a troll (rather than a dragon), I don’t mean that he doesn’t commit great crimes, but that (to borrow a conceit from Chesterton) that he doesn’t commit them in a great way. His acts are horrific, but they are the horrific acts of a man too limited—small, dull, painfully predictable—to be properly tragic. Ildiko’s reaction to Manolo—utter disdain—is the most natural reaction IMO.
Of course the real Manolos of the world properly claim our charity and understanding ... but boring characters don’t become more interesting just because they do really bad things.
meh…
Watchable. I wanted to learn about the saint, not the fictional Manolo. Like reading a Cliff note’s version of the Cliff notes version War and Peace.
Just a question here Steven. You don’t think it is arrogant to proscribe Catechism reading to people who critic your criticisms as if you were a priest. I mean, you are a movie critic, right?
I’ve now seen the film three times: once at a by-invitation prescreening, once on opening night, and again yesterday with my parents (I wanted them to see it because they know very little about St. Josemaria and Opus Dei and I thought Charlie Cox’s performance was extraordinary).
Full disclosure: I’m an Opus Dei cooperator and St. Josemaria fangirl and I’ve been following the development of this film for several years. So I went into the theater with my own set of hopes and biases.
My initial reaction to the film was positive but I was also disappointed by some of the same artistic shortcomings (occasionally trite dialogue) that you pointed out in your review. A good film, could have been better, etc.
In all honesty, however, this is a film that has really “grown” on me after repeated viewings. The are multiple layers of symbolism that reveal themselves slowly…like peeling an onion. In my view, this is a much richer and deeper film than I originally gave it credit for. To note just one interesting small element…the appearance of yellow (golden) roses throughout the film.
Here’s some advice on how to “watch” the film from Fr. John Wauck, an Opus Dei priest who served as an adviser to Joffe during production (the same type of role that Fr. Berrigan played during production of The Mission):
http://www.wauckinrome.com/2011/05/08/how-to-see-dragons/
If you’ve only seen it once and were disappointed, you might want to give it another shot when it comes out on DVD. You might be surprised. I think Joffe created something very special here.
@ CV Regarding ‘trite language’ are you referring to the dialogue as a whole or specific instances as when Manolo says, “If you can show me that suffering has meaning I will kis your a$$”?
If I can comment on that line, whether you refer to it specifically or not, it is another thing I love about this film. It says that the saints live in the real world. People used bad language around them. To me it brought about the real dimension of the lives of these two men. The fight scene had the same effect on me- The reality of the saints is not completely perfect.
@ David: I’ve got no problem in the world with anyone disagreeing with or criticizing my reviews. I expect and even want that. To the extent that you argued where you thought I was wrong and why, I respect your comments, even though I disagree.
Impugning my Catholic faith, suggesting that I have forgotten or never knew about St. Josemaria’s virtues, calling me “Manolo,” etc. is another matter. No, I don’t think it’s arrogant for one Christian to try to recall another to better behavior, although I’m sorry if you took offense at way I expressed it.
Go see Of Gods and Men. A far more superior film that truly shows the Catholic faith in all it glory without the cocao beans or dragons. Oh and you don’t need a “how to watch” guidebook. It gives to everyone whether you have “it” or not.
@ Stella: Yes, everyone, by all means go see Of Gods and Men!
Melanie B. (Not The Spice Girl) wrote:
“It’s rather as if the Eucharist [is put] into a poorly constructed, ugly monstrance.”
Except that the analogy falls apart for a reason you note later. THERE BE DRAGONS is not St. Josemaria’s real presence, but a fictional film about him (to some extent, not enough of an extent, according to Steve).
One day, the film will be ashes and dust (or gathering dust on the shelves), and there is no promise of eternal life or a new body for pieces of celluloid or serieses of 0s and 1s. Ontologically, it is a work of art, a work of art only, and can only be judged as a work of art. It cannot be the object of a devotion separate from its presentation (i.e., despite an ugly monstrance) because THERE BE DRAGONS *is* a monstrance.
Victor, Of course the analogy falls apart. All analogies only carry you so far and I think you are pushing it well past what I was intending to convey.
“It cannot be the object of a devotion separate from its presentation (i.e., despite an ugly monstrance) because THERE BE DRAGONS *is* a monstrance.”
I think you misread. In my analogy it is St Josemaria who is the object of devotion and the film which is the monstrance. The people who quibble over the critique of the film already know and love St Josemaria and can’t see the flaws in the film because they see through it to the person of the saint. I suspect they are reading into the gaps, filling in from prior knowledge of the saint, or seeing through the lens of that prior knowledge which allows them to filter their experience of the film.
I agree with you about the ontology of a work of art. The problem I pereive is that many well meaning but perhaps not so well educated folks seem to be confused on that very point. They can’t separate the real person from the art that depicts him. Perhaps I’m pushing my analogy too far but maybe it’s like for them the film is not so much the monstrance as the host itself—they perceive it to be something it is not, treating a film as if it is a depiction of reality, a window into the past. You see it over and over again. If you dare to criticize overly-sentimental images of the Sacred Heart, Mel Gibson’s the Passion of the Christ, or any film with religious content. They don’t seem to be able to view art as art. They can’t separate fiction from reality. And so they see any critique of the art as a critique of the subject matter portrayed by the art. Definitely ontological confusion. A pitiable condition and I think they deserve charity not scorn because it is the result of poor education.
And I do think that perhaps charity demands that we recognize that for those individuals there may very well be some devotional value in even the kitchiest (is that a word) or sentimental of artistically bad drivel.
The richness of the life of St. Josemaria, the wide variety of lessons to be drawn from his biography, may have been this films central weakness. By dipping his toe into the life of St. Josemaria and portraying the Founder of Opus Dei as a side character only left the audience thirsting for more. Joffe tried to give the audience as much Josemaria as he thought he could, including several pivotal scenes in his life such as the “footprints in the snow” and the day he “saw” Opus Dei while on retreat in 1928. However, these true events are far too gripping to be relegated as anecdotal side points to a storyline centered on a character who never even existed.
No Hollywood scriptwriter could make up something as fascinating, deep, and timely as the life of the historical St. Josemaria. And where Joffe tries to portray Josemaria as he was, he succeeds. But focusing instead on the character of Manolo Torres dilutes what could have been a great movie. No need to make a movie glorifying an already canonized saint. Just make a historical thriller centered on the historical life of the man. Heck, cast Charlie Cox again. He did a great job and brought the necessary emotion and manliness needed to play this Spanish priest.
Given the sporadic and muddled overall presentation of the life of Josemaria in what was a boring, at times painfully boring, movie lead me to almost agree with Mr. Greydanus that There Be Dragons was a “lost opportunity.”
I say “almost” because I choose to believe that this movie will nonetheless be a mechanism for good. If nothing else, this movie will lead some to encounter the historical Founder of Opus Dei, to read his writings and to discover the path to holiness that he opened for the Church. To paraphrase one of Josemaria’s sayings, God always uses poor instruments so that the work can clearly be seen as His. If the poor instrument in this case is a boring Joffe movie, then so be it. But God’s work prevails.
In a cacao bean, go see this movie, despite Mr. Greydanus’ lack of enthusiasm (and lack of perspective).
This is why you shouldn’t read film reviews.
What ... no umbrage at Spice Girls jokes about your name?!?! I take umbrage at that!!!
Actually, best I can tell, Melanie, we agree 100 percent. Indeed, I couldn’t have put it better than “the film is not so much the monstrance as the host itself” (in the eyes of some).
Here’s the thing—do we judge religious works of art on the basis of whether they win souls? Or whether they inspire devotion? Or as consciousness-raising (I hate that term, but it’s a perfect analogy)? Or as works of art?
When THE PASSION OF THE CHRIST came out, I said it’s an excellent devotional object (and maybe even proselytism vis Protestants), but one that doesn’t really work as evangelism or apologetics. The lukewarm reaction among most secular critics confirmed that.
I would actually agree that even a bad movie can work as a devotional object and would certainly never limit the Holy Spirit to working only through good movies. But for that very reason, men can only judge a work of art AS a work of art. We are NOT the Holy Spirit and are not in charge of Providence. If a bad movie can win folks for Christ (or Opus Dei—an organization I regard well), all glory to Him. It doesn’t make it not a bad movie.
Or post comments at film-review sites.
I 95 percent agreed with Christopher, as should be clear from my previous post, which was written before I read his. But this frosts me.
“In a cacao bean, go see this movie, despite Mr. Greydanus’ lack of enthusiasm (and lack of perspective).”
Steve can defend himself without my help (or ignore it and not-post this if he’d rather). But his review does not reflect any “lack of perspective,” but rather a proper humility toward what his perspective is, and the role of this particular piece and this particular forum.
Victor,
In my experience taking umbrage at jokes about my name only encourages the teasing. I prefer not to give you any encouragement in that direction.
Indeed I think the only proper way to judge a work of art is as a work of art. If the Holy Spirit chooses to use bad art for the glory of God, that’s up to him and not really within the purview of the film critic. I think we should do our best to encourage artists to make good art and point up the flaws in any art good or bad. The point of my original comment was really to shed a light on the problem of the ontological confusion in the commenters. Hoping (probably in vain) that by highlighting the reason for the confusion perhaps some of the confused might become less so. But I’m a teacher so I’m always hopeful.
I loved the movie. Many of my friends also enjoyed the movie. Some of my friends who saw it were atheists, agnostics, fallen-away Catholics, and a couple were Opus Dei. All thought it a thought-provoking movie. A number of us went out to dinner afterward and we discussed it from a number of different perspectives. It seemed to touch everyone in a special way.
Some movies, when they touch upon historical events, are more than just movies. Of course it isn’t anti-Catholic NOT to love this money (remember back when “Bella” came out and all Catholics were “supposed” to like what turned out to be another poorly made movie). But Mr. Greydanus is clearly not giving this movie the credit it deserves as being the one, and only one to the best of my knowledge, Hollywood portrayal of St. Josemaria Escriva as a likable human being. And it is that likability, so close to the real deal, that will lead people to discover the Founder of Opus Dei, a saint for the whole Church.
This is EWTN for crying out loud. Throwing in some supernatural perspective in with a movie review wouldn’t be that strange, would it? And that is all I meant Victor. Sorry for frosting you.
The only muddle here is the lack of clarity on who is the main character thereby not clearly establishing the target audience. St Josemaria and Opus Dei were the antagonists to Manolo’s son who is the Everyman that searches for answers, speaks and questions for the audience.The dragons were his inner demons of anger,resentment and self-pity based upon familial relational brokenness. It was a nearly perfect contrast of worldviews with the Spanish Civil War acting as a cultural back round with frightening parallels with our current political realities in the U.S.A..It was no surprise to me that the secular press uniformly disliked this movie. It is, however, tragic that the Catholic media cannot recognize a movie that is depicting effectively the only means of achieving genuine forgiveness and reconciliation in a dechristianized world culture devoid of hope.
Excellent review of “There Be Dragons.” Many thanks.
I found the film’s flaws painful because I have personal devotion to St. Josemaría. Yet I find consolation in knowing that these flaws have nothing to do with the saint or with Opus Dei.
My view, as posted as well on Rotten Tomatoes: Enjoyable. Edifying. Scattered epiphanies of beauty and genuine feeling. Yet Joffe seems out of his depth when it comes to treating real struggles within the soul between love and strife, faith and doubt, forgiveness and vengeance. The film emerges as something like a first draft—a sketch or an outline—of what could yield a work of art, of an alternative world containing real characters with real personalities battling their “dragons” in either the external world of human society or the internal world of feeling, imagination, and thought. Further, the film emerges as a sketch or outline containing enough material for at least three stories and, thus, three feature films. The result: “There be iguanas.”
I’ve seen the film twice. Once at a free screening a few months ago, and again last Thursday. I agree fully with Steven’s review.
The main problem, for me, with the film is that the main character Manolo is simply an uninteresting character. His character is flat, badly acted, one-dimensional. His dialogue is devoid of human depth. And he is the main character! I find that in watching the film I did not identify with Manolo in any way—he did not draw me in to his life. I don’t really care about him as a character. And this kills the whole film. If you don’t identify with in some way or care about the main character, it fails as a film, no matter what snippets might be worthwhile. Some scenes with Escriva are very good. But this does not come close to making the film good.
I disagree with your analysis. It is not those who are well who need a physician. I think it very appropriate and merciful that the focus of the movie should be Manolo, a modern day nihilistic ‘everyman’. Christ’s burning love for sinners and the possibility of redemption are the real centre of this movie. Worth watching and worth recommending to anyone who, when all is said and done, does not consider himself worthy of redemption.
@ Christopher: It’s interesting that you cite Bella. It’s a good case in point of the considerable pressure to hail as a masterpiece every Catholic film that comes down the pike, including There Be Dragons.
FWIW, I didn’t think Bella was a masterpiece, although I found it more enjoyable and moving than There Be Dragons. (I liked Tammy Blanchard’s character more than Manolo, to start with.) I think it’s reasonable, too, to weigh an $8M indie shot in three weeks somewhat differently than a $42M epic made by a veteran director. (Of course it could also be said that no bad film is cheap enough and no well-made film is too expensive.) Still, I’ve taken flack for not hailing Bella as a masterpiece, and likewise the mixed response in this combox is hardly surprising.
It’s true that the likability of St. Josemaria—which my review acknowledges—may lead some people to discover the real saint, and that’s a good thing. But it’s also true that other people may be turned off by the dullness of the film and its protagonist, or by the perception that Opus Dei is trying to whitewash history. Shouldn’t those possibilities count too?
Josemaria is likable, but we get almost no sense of his spirituality or impact, beyond his self-sacrifice and rigorous fair-mindedness. We don’t see him addressing crowds of hundreds of men and women. We don’t see him writing or articulating the spiritual precepts of The Way. Where is the “heroic moment”? Where is his emphasis on prayer? On study?
In fact, other than the tell-don’t-show scene in the bishop’s study, with the rather heavy-handed TV-movie style symbolism of the opened window and the wind scattering papers everywhere, where is the basic idea of Opus Dei, of pursuing holiness via everyday life and work?
For example, where do we see Josemaria’s followers engaged in ordinary work, or where do we see Josemaria encouraging them in their daily tasks? Where does the movie sanctify everyday work? There are lots of worthy cinematic depictions of the dignity of everyday work, from How Green Was My Valley and Lilies of the Field to Witness and Le Fils, but this certainly isn’t one of them. Even Of Gods and Men showed the monks at their everyday tasks of beekeeping and honey production and selling, the work by which they supported themselves. In There Be Dragons there’s some labor-capital conflict, but little if anything about work itself.
The movie makes Josemaria likable, but gives us very little sense of who he was and what he taught.
@ Donal O’Sullivan-Latchford: I don’t object to having a “modern day nihilistic ‘everyman’” as a protagonist. I object to having a dull, small-minded character as a protagonist. (Unless your point is that he is dull and small-minded and your story is about pathos and ennui, or something. But There Be Dragons thinks its hero is grand and tragic, and that’s a serious mistake.)
@ Charles: I almost wish “There be iguanas” were the headline of this review. That’s awesome.
Steven,
While I think you make some good points in your review, I have to disagree that sanctification of ordinary work was absent in the movie. The images were woven throughout the entire film…the chocolate factory workers stirring the bowls, a worker washing a window (a cross or monstrance sat in that window), St. Josemaria’s mother serving a meal, St. Josemaria himself attempting to teach Latin, then trading jobs with a follower (member of The Work(!) who couldn’t bear the smell of washing the bedpans in the hospital for the sick. We saw nurses, a subway conductor, etc.
People are disappointed in this movie because they see it as a “failed epic” that’s not like The Mission or The Killing Fields. Or they see it as a “failed biopic” that doesn’t focus enough on a thorough retelling of the life and work of St. Josemaria. What it does do is accurately capture the real life character of St. Josemaria and that’s why I think Opus Dei people who are familiar with his personal story may be more quick to defend the film.
For example, from reading his real life story I know he had devoted parents and that the family had to bear the tragedy of losing several of his young sisters. I know he had a donkey on his desk, I know he turned down a prestigious clerical position to focus on his vocation, I know he took shelter in an insane asylum, during his escape through the Pyrenees he did indeed find a gilded rose in a burned out church and saw it as a sign, etc. When Joffe depicted various aspects of the life of St. Josemaria, he got the story and the details right (with the exception of the friendship with fictional Manolo, of course).
But a literal retelling of St. Josemaria’s life is NOT what Joffe set out to do with this film, in my opinion. The film is not a bio or an epic but rather a sort of MEDITATION on a variety of themes, such as the gift of faith, fatherhood (earthly and spiritual), forgiveness, the redemptive power of suffering, etc. St. Josemaria is part of the fabric of this movie but he is NOT the main point.
As I said, it’s a film that reveals its layers slowly. You have to look at it (see it once) then step back and see how the threads and various themes are woven together in a pattern. The filmmaker is just asking us to think about these themes and what they mean. And Joffe is not even Christian, let alone Catholic, for pete’s sake. The film is downright overloaded with visual metaphors and you have to see it more than once to take them all in.
Joffe has said in interviews that he wanted to make a film that takes religion seriously on its own terms, and in my view he succeeded in that very well.
Yes, this film tanked in the secular reviews and throughout most of the Catholic blogosphere, from what I’ve been reading. But a few reviewers do seem to “get it.”
America magazine, for one, which is surprising given the history of animosity between Jesuits and Opus Dei:
http://www.americamagazine.org/content/culture.cfm?cultureid=199
Elizabeth Lev gets it too. She’s an art history professor in Rome, so surely her opinion on the artistic merits of the film counts for something :-)
http://www.zenit.org/article-31846?l=english
Finally, in the biggest shocker of all, even the Huffington Post seems to get it:
http://www.huffingtonpost.com/cathleen-falsani/there-be-dragons_b_858354.html
@ CV: Excellent points. FWIW, I’ve seen the film twice, but at this point it’s been several weeks and while I remembered a couple of the scenes you mentioned, I had forgotten most of them. I take back the criticism in my last comment regarding the role of work in the film. The film does a better job on that front than I remembered.
Thanks, Steve. Good point, too, about how the film makes St. Josemaría likable, though failing to give a sense of his personality or his teachings. The character of this film offers an edifying yet truncated, reduced portrait of sanctity. He is most often very, very nice, which is not at all the same as loving and holy.
St. Augustine once said that saints are the teeth of the Church. St. Josemaría often spoke about the need to provoke “crises of faith” in ourselves and others; to face the evil and lukewarmness in our hearts and to take a stand for Christ with the help of divine grace, or to know that, in refusing to do so, we take a stand against Christ by rejecting grace.
To read the writings of Josemaría, to assimilate his spirituality of sanctifying everyday life, to hear his preaching and teaching in gatherings in many countries with thousands of people at a time—to do any of these things is to know that something unnerving has happened to you; it is to know that you have been bitten.
I think part of the problem for many is that they expecetd to see one movie, but saw another. The hype around this being a “St. Josemaria” film I think colors the perception. Naturally, you would have expected him to be the main character, but he isn’t. In fact, he is almost unnecessary to the film. It was enjoyable enough, the cinematography was pretty good -it had a well-crafted feel to it. But you really learned little about St. Josemaria, about the Spanish civil war (particularly for historically ignorant American audiences), and even Manolo was only superficially treated (why had he not spoken to his son in 8 years?). In the end, there was very little there there.
@Steven: certainly neither Bella or There Be Dragons are masterpiecies. But I do think that they are very different movies with very different subjects. And you are right, the movie does not do Josemaria justice with regards to his theological insights, spirituality, and all of his heroic virtues. But it does do enough to make him likable. (Just the fact that the movie states that he was canonized a saint in 2002 is a huge plus) A priest with the courage to face death, the prudence and chastity not to live with a single woman, and a spirit of mortification to include corporal mortifications. Certainly many priests today possess these virtues, but since when does Hollywood depict them favorably?
While I wish this movie had more pizazz, I certainly was prepared for some theological and even historical missteps. For one, the Prelature of Opus Dei did not make this movie, an agnostic Englishman did. For that same reason, there should be no “perception” that Opus Dei is trying to whitewash history since it didn’t direct this movie. Sure, Fr. John Wauck was on set to provide advice, but that’s it. And directors disregard their advisors all the time (like making Don Jose Escriva the proprietor of a chocolate factory…he was a textile merchant, not a chocolatier. The chocolate store image comes from later in Josemaria’s life).
I’m not arguing for a Josemaria documentary where images of his talks before vast crowds (whether they were vast is debatable, he always preferred to characterize his meetings as family gatherings, but his spiritual children would usually just crowd a small room) permeate throughout. Just a story focused on him. I obviously didn’t get what I wanted, but that is not to say that this movie is a “lost opportunity.” See my previous comments for my reasons why.
Final point. If one watches closely, the spirit of Opus Dei does come through. In the scene where Opus Dei is founded, we see people of all stripes and professions watching Christ work at a bench. Later Josemaria discuss Christ’s life as a carpenter in Nazareth. That image is a HUGE part of the spirit of Opus Dei. Also, the relationship between Don Jose and Josemaria, that of a father and son, reveals the way that Josemaria would understand his relationship to God the Father (who is also mentioned in the post-fight seminary scene). So boom. We got Christ’s life in Nazareth and divine filiation both in this movie. Sounds light the true spirituality of St. Josemaria to me. Sure it’s subtle. But, as a professional movie reviewer for an EWTN subsidiary, I hoped that you would have noticed.
@ Christopher: FWIW, There Be Dragons is not a Hollywood film. In both production and distribution it is an independent film, produced largely outside the United States and distributed in the US by Goldwyn, an independent film company. It was substantially produced by members of Opus Dei. At least two of the credited producers, Ignacio G. Sancha and Ignacio Núñez, are Opus Dei members, and contributions from Opus Dei members surely made up a significant portion of the film’s funding. I can’t say what Mr. Joffé‘s working relationship with his producers was like, but producers generally have some level of input on the creative process.
While it still seems to me that my general criticism about the comparative absence of Josemaria’s spirituality in the film are accurate, on the subject of work in the film, I’ve already taken back my critical comments written at 5am, rather in haste and on not much sleep. (I did specifically mention the second scene you cite in which Josemaria explains his vision to the bishop.) It still seems to me that the film’s depiction of the dignity of work pales in comparison with the films I mentioned, but I freely acknowledge that I overstated my case at 5am.
BTW, I suspect you also overstate your case, when you say, “So boom. We got Christ’s life in Nazareth and divine filiation both in this movie.” It’s fine with me if you want to allegorize about Christ’s divine filiation from Josemaria’s relationship with Don Jose—but I can’t remember anything in the film that particularly calls for such a move.
For crying out loud if I hear one more time “But the movie is respectful of a saint—so everyone needs to support it”. If that is your only criteria for lauding a movie some kind of masterpiece, then why read a review? Can’t we have a higher standard than *not* being slandered? Has the world beaten the church into that much submission?
“Oh, you aren’t beating me up—thank you thank you thank you”. Sheesh.
“It’s fine with me if you want to allegorize about Christ’s divine filiation from Josemaria’s relationship with Don Jose—but I can’t remember anything in the film that particularly calls for such a move.”
Well I can. Remember the scene immediately following the fight at the seminary, after Manolo insulted Josemaria’s father. The rector of the seminary, in an attempt to reconcile the two, points out that they both share the same father in heaven. Also, because divine filiation is such a bedrock principle of the spirituality of St. Josemaria, the meaning of Joffe’s running theme of fatherhood is not lost on audiences who understand what it is that they are watching. Also, the way in which we see Josemaria discoursing with God throughout the movie is not with some fluffy, overstated piety, but exactly the same way that he converses with his father at the beginning of the movie. Again, it’s subtle, but there nonetheless (we are not arguing here about how subtle or non-subtle the presence of his spirituality was, the question is whether it was there at all. Answer…absolutely yes).
And to the implied assertion that Opus Dei controlled aspects of this movie, all I can say is “blah blah blah.” That’s the same argument everyone’s been hearing ever since the production of this movie was announced. It is not prelatic propaganda. It’s just a bad movie that can still do great good.
If I want cynical movie reviews, I’ll go to Rotten Tomatoes. However, I expect something different from EWTN.
I want to say thanks to Steven for a great review and to Melanie for a well-put distinction between 1. liking St. Josemaria and the film’s potential to help people and 2. the film’s artistic deficiencies and the fear that this will turn people off. I have been encouraging people to see it in the hopes that that doesn’t happen. And, in general, I would still encourage those who don’t know more about Opus Dei than the Da Vinci Code to see the film. Perhaps what accounts for some of the “over-zealous” support of the film is the fact that those associated with Opus Dei are tired of the all the bad and false press it normally receives. But that doesn’t excuse some of the comments.
@ Elise. I assume you are referring to other posts. If you think that I believe this movie is a masterpiece, then you clearly have not been reading this forum. The last thing that I want is There Be Dragons to be some sort of Bella movie that Catholics are “supposed” to like because an ad for it appeared in the parish bulletin. I think its boring, but I see the value of the movie. And, for the record, I think that this movie is more than just “respectful” of a saint. It is actually promoting qualities of sanctity rarely seen anywhere else or at least in the form in which it is presented. Not since The Scarlet and the Black or I Confess (or maybe The Mission) has the sheer manliness of the priesthood been presented in such a positive way.
Why read a movie review, you ask? To get an assessment of the qualities, weaknesses, subtleties, and worth of a particular film. And why read a Catholic movie review? To get a Catholic perspective on those same aspects. Since no one else was catching the subtleties of St. Josemaria’s theology present in this film, I thought that maybe EWTN would manage to see them. Alas, I expected too much.
@ Christopher: What sense does it make to emphasize on the one hand that the film was made by an agnostic Brit, not by devout Catholics, yet on the other hand to appeal to extra-filmic precepts of Josemaria’s spirituality, precepts not referenced in the film, as an interpretive principle for allegorizing the film’s imagery? It’s one thing to say the real Josemaria might have connected those dots; it’s another to say that the film itself implies such connections, however subtly. It’s fine devotional commentary, but it lacks critical rigor.
I never said the film was “controlled” by Opus Dei or that it was propaganda. I’m simply saying some people will reasonably suppose that the film offers a somewhat sanitized version of history, and that a flawed film may be helpful to some and harmful to others. I think most thoughtful Catholics will recognize that bad art, whether secular or sacred, is inherently problematic and can be subtly harmful to those who consume it.
Whether your charge of “cynicism” is remotely warranted, and whether my reviews do or don’t offer readers “something different,” are questions I leave entirely to readers to judge.
P.S. Christopher, this is now the third time you’ve indicated that my review is less than what you expect from EWTN. You’ve said your piece. Move on.
@ Steven Since you’ve already taken back some of your critiques of the movie (which were unfair), I take back my charge of cynicism (which was also unfair).
As to whether or not this movie will be “subtly harmful to those who consume it,” I guess we will just have to wait and see.
@ Christopher: Well, I don’t know how we could ever “see” a thing like that. Just as I don’t know how we could ever “see” that particular people have been damaged by bad liturgy, hymnody or church architecture. These are conclusions we arrive at indirectly, based on our understanding of art, meaning and the human person.
Christopher - not referring to you at all. Just tired of the drum beat of “we Christians must promote/praise/not be critical of all movies that don’t slam us” mentality. SDG as well as other critics seek to promote excellence as a way of attracting the world, not praising mediocrity simply because it has something of a positive message.
@Christopher: Many moments in the film also reminded me of details I knew about the life and teachings of St. Josemaría Escrivá. What’s more, besides the details you describe, I remembered fondly a song that plays briefly in the background of only one scene in the film—a beautiful song that I had not heard for over thirty years, when I was a student at the University of Navarra in Spain: “Los arboles altos” (The Tall Trees). I enjoyed the nostalgic delight of that moment. But a work of art seeks, not simply to remind, but to render; and a nostalgic reminder is not an artistic rendering.
On the one hand, I am beyond impressed with the degree to which Joffe has assimilated the biography and teachings of Escrivá. His film contains numerous hints, allusions, reminders of the saint and the unique charism that produced Opus Dei. But, again, this material often flits by, a passing allusion, undeveloped, turning much of the film into what I earlier called a draft or outline or sketch. It also turns the film into a kind of movie-a-clef for Escrivá or Opus Dei initiates. Pleasant for them—for me—but lost on others and brought to life for no one. This artistic material (excellent material) never quite blossoms into a finished work of art.
Along similar lines, critics used to joke about the novelist Phillip Roth when he appeared over and over on television, explaining and describing every image and theme of his most recent work. “Have you read Roth’s latest novel?,” they would ask. “No, but I saw the interview.”
I read the interview that NCR conducted with Joffe about his latest film. And,again, I was beyond impressed with how fair he was to religion, how well he had assimilated his chosen artistic material, how intelligently discoursed on the themes of love and hate and forgiveness. That’s why, in the end, I liked the interview better than the film. The film was just as cerebral as the interview. And that’s a core problem.
In both performances, he deserves high marks for content. But, in the film, he deserves only average marks for form; and art is nothing if not form. In the film he tries, Roth-like, to present too much in too little artistic space and time.
@SteveG You generosity in answering readers’ comments (including mine) amazes me and shows nothing less than heroic virtue. Ditto for the professionalism, rigor, critical sensibility, and intellectual honesty that you share in both your reviews and responses. You do EWTN and your profession proud. And, FWIW, I am convinced that Josemaría would have admired you for all those traits and for your insightful review.
@ Charles: Thanks so much for your gracious comments!
I had very much the same experience as you, not only of the film, but of the filmmakers, at the junket in Madrid. I said on the radio last week that I wished the film had been a fraction as interesting as the interviews with the director and the cast. Joffé comes across in person as a very thoughtful and interesting guy, and Charlie Cox is fantastic in person.
In his review of The Mission Roger Ebert speculated that he would rather watch a documentary about the making of the film than the film itself. I think that’s wrong about The Mission, but in the case of There Be Dragons I would definitely rather watch interviews of Joffé and the Dragons cast than Dragons itself.
You’re welcome. And yes, the interviews are marvelous, thoughtful. I had no idea that you had spoken about this film on the radio as well. Is the program available on line? Best, CP
@ Charles: I did two spots on Dragons for “Kresta in the Afternoon.” Both spots are currently archived here and here. I also talked about it in my usual Friday morning spots on “Morning Air” and “The Son Rise Morning Show.” No idea if those are archived.
I went to see There Be Dragons at our local Little Theater. As a senior I got to see it for five dollars, so it was an inexpensive outing. I liked it. It’s a movie I would recommend you take your agnostic friend, or someone who thinks that Catholics do not know of suffering, or the real world. The most compelling part for me was when Escriva is defending the idea of starting a movement like Opus Dei, one which is open to everyone. The movie is an opening to discussion about Catholicism, about the priesthood, and about the limits of charity. Finally Geraldine Chaplin is fascinating in her cameo role. JF
Steven,
Thanks for your review.
I am an adult convert to Catholicism.
For a movie that is NOT an biographical film on St. Josemaria, this film did a great job of introducing him to the world-at-large.
I really liked this film in that it dealt with many moral themes and though Father Josemaria was in it it revolved around a man who made poorer choices with his life
and the chaos that insued. The theme of reconciliation between father and son and the son’s fear of becoming a dad was well-done!
Compared to “Thor,” “Fast Five” and some of the big-name movies, I believe this movie is much more significant and more of a ‘must-see’ movie.
I highly recomend this movie!
My Mother, a non-catholic, enjoyed this movie!
from a non-Opes dei member (well, not yet)
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