I'll need to start at the end of this film. No spoiler, don't worry. Just me saying, "Huh?" Ferrara's rambling, affected film left me stranded at the end in a Dead Sea. I really wanted to find something to recommend in this film, but all I could think of was how unfocused it was, how miscast, and how dull.
One particular problem was Ferrara couldn't decide if he wanted to make an investigative documentary or a inspiring religious drama. On the one side we've got real theologians yammering away about Jesus and Mary, and clips of violence in Palestine. On the other side we have two stories about New Yorkers having spiritual identity crises, and an actress still neurotically lost in her role wandering through the streets of Jerusalem looking for something to eat, or something. In the end we get a murky, arty film with meandering plot lines that don't really go anywhere.
In addition we have a casting problem. Juliette Binoche as the ersatz Magdalene plays her role as a treacly, new-agey Christian proselytizer. She reminded me of the people who accost you on buses asking you if you've found Jesus yet.
Modine and Whitaker, both plainly uncomfortable playing their roles, end up giving us melodramatic performances that, when arriving at the moment of spiritual catharsis, cause them to start chewing up the scenery. I couldn't help thinking that Whitaker's appeal to God in a hospital chapel made him look like a subject in a Goya painting, but without the pathos that the artist's subjects engenders. Both actors were not able to evince any genuine feelings, which is due mostly to a plot that doesn't allow them to develop their characters in the first place.
Better to watch Kazantzakis, or even Gibson. Or see "Cammina, Cammina" by Ermanno Olmi.
One particular problem was Ferrara couldn't decide if he wanted to make an investigative documentary or a inspiring religious drama. On the one side we've got real theologians yammering away about Jesus and Mary, and clips of violence in Palestine. On the other side we have two stories about New Yorkers having spiritual identity crises, and an actress still neurotically lost in her role wandering through the streets of Jerusalem looking for something to eat, or something. In the end we get a murky, arty film with meandering plot lines that don't really go anywhere.
In addition we have a casting problem. Juliette Binoche as the ersatz Magdalene plays her role as a treacly, new-agey Christian proselytizer. She reminded me of the people who accost you on buses asking you if you've found Jesus yet.
Modine and Whitaker, both plainly uncomfortable playing their roles, end up giving us melodramatic performances that, when arriving at the moment of spiritual catharsis, cause them to start chewing up the scenery. I couldn't help thinking that Whitaker's appeal to God in a hospital chapel made him look like a subject in a Goya painting, but without the pathos that the artist's subjects engenders. Both actors were not able to evince any genuine feelings, which is due mostly to a plot that doesn't allow them to develop their characters in the first place.
Better to watch Kazantzakis, or even Gibson. Or see "Cammina, Cammina" by Ermanno Olmi.