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Reviews
Fury (1936)
Unfortunately, Fury is still relevant.
There is a subtle, yet nevertheless disturbing moment from a barber in Fritz Lang's "Fury." As he is shaving one of his customers throats, he begins discussing the fine line between civilized behaviour and the urge to do something transgressive. Although the character may appear perfectly innocent, he admits that, on multiple occasions, he has had the urge to brutally murder some of his customers. There's no apparent motivation, he just has an urge for violence. Initially, this passage may seem just like a comical interlude but if you consider Lang's filmography, this inconsequential scene could epitomize Lang's cynical principles. In virtually all his films, Lang has presented audience with a brutally bitter and cynical view of humanity where the concept of 'civilized' is fraught with ambiguity. "Fury," a film which functions as a cold and powerful indictment of mob violence, undeniably continues Lang's trend of challenging the notion of civilized humanity by showing the tragic consequences that occur when a mob is possessed by a belief that is completely based on fiction and irrationality. Unfortunately, "Fury" still shares a powerful resonance with the modern world and is the fundamental reason why it's still relevant and disturbing. As we watch on and see the joyful and satisfied faces of the mob harming the innocent because they believe they are morally justified, we cannot help but see the similarities to recent media imagery that evokes the exact same sentiment. Individuals, who being possessed by an irrational ideology, seem perfectly free of guilt and remorse when committing violence against perfectly innocent people - so much for a civilized society. Lang, who made the film in 1936 with most likely the intention of using his film to stop such behaviour, would turn in his grave knowing that "Fury" still shares an obvious connection to the modern world.
Silence (2016)
An admirable and realistic portrayal of Christianity
I personally never came from a strong ideological background and religion was never a presence in during my upbringing. Due to this, I have always found it extremely difficult to fathom what one's consciousness would be like when possessed so strongly from an ideology such as religion. As I became more aware of the negative consequences of such ideological possessions in the modern world, I was always thankful that religion didn't rule my consciousness and have the cataclysmic effect it was causing around the world within my own community. Nevertheless, in the face of this indifference to religion, Martin Scorsese Silence is a true work of empathy that potently captures the transcending power of the belief of Christianity while also acknowledging the fundamental paradoxes that appear when the moral logic of Christianity is applied to the harshness of reality. Whether you're religious or the most extreme atheist, I doubt that any viewer is going to walk away from Silence without truly being in admiration of the human spirit and its ability to transcend the fear of morality when backend by an ideology. Of course, there are issues with this notion (which will be discussed later) as it is a catalyst for causing some of the most significant issues associated with religion in the 21st century, but the most refreshing aspect about Silence is that Scorsese acknowledges both the positive and negative impacts of such a belief. In essence, Silence is one of the few films that treats religion in a realistic and applicable manner.
Scorsese's period piece is set in the 17th century and focuses on two priests (played by Andrew Garfield and Adam Driver) that travel to Japan to save their mentor (who has apparently committed apostasy) and to promote the teachings of Christianity in a country where Christians are being slaughtered due to their belief. Eventually, when the two priests meet the Japanese villagers where Christianity is a presence, Rodrigues (Andrew Garfield) is amazed at the level of belief that is shown in these communities.
As Rodrigues awe of the village dwellers grows, it's virtually impossible to not garner a sense of respect for the commitment shown by these individuals. Even in the face of death and torture (which Scorsese presents with his typical, visceral brutality), these believers never renounced their faith, despite knowing the brutal consequences. In one of the most powerful scenes of the entire film, a group of villagers are mounted to wooden-crosses located on the edge of a cliff-face where they must wait as the tide slowly rises, subsequently ensuring that they endure a slow and painful death from drowning. Rodrigues watches on, astonished by the fact that despite being surrounded by their impending mortality, the torture victims never renounce their fate, even if renouncing ensures their freedom. These particular scenes must have been emotional for Scorsese, who could of well and truly looked upon these characters as quintessential embodiments of true believers. Even in the face of the strongest human emotion (fear), they never renounced their belief in God. In many ways, these scenes serve as a powerful reminder of the capability of the human spirit, both physically and mentally.
Obviously, from a 21st perspective or simply from someone who discredits the notion of believing in a higher deity, these scenes may seem ridiculous and highlight some of the apparent problems associated with religion. The most obvious being that when possessed by such an ideology, a person is satisfied to sacrifice their own life knowing that if they didn't renounce their faith, this ensures they will be promised a more idealistic life in paradise. If viewing the film from this 21st century perspective, then viewers will most likely scoff at these decisions made by the characters. Why on earth would someone not renounce their faith - a faith that is completely fictional - to ensure their own freedom? But of course, this perspective is not fair to the historical context. All these events took place well before the advancements of the enlightenment period and the theories that began to challenge religious belief were not yet present. If the viewer can conjure the empathetic skills to understand that during this context, religion was held in the highest esteem and considered completely factual, then to witness the sheer commitment of these Japanese peasants is not stupid, but rather incredibly admirable.
This may seem that Scorsese is only portraying religion with a sense of admirability; however, this doesn't mean that the director isn't willing to acknowledge the fundamental flaws that appear when the moral logic of Christianity is applied to reality. These issues are perfectly illustrated when Rodrigues is confronted with the most apparent paradox of his belief: if God exists, how can he possibly let so many innocent people die and let sin prevail? This question serves as the main dramatic tension for the central character and as the question persists, Rodrigues continually looks for a sign from God that reaffirms his faith. Unfortunately, the only sound from the universe is an echo of defiant silence. In the director's typical fashion, Scorsese conveys these existential issues through imagery that is viscerally brutal and conscious ingraining. In one particular sequence, Rodrigues believes that God has intervened to save the life of an innocent peasant. As he repays God's intervention with a thankful prayer, the innocent peasant is brutally decapitated, which sends Rodrigues into another existential crisis. The nature of such sequences serve as a potent reminder of how the moral logic of religion ultimately fails when applied to the harshness of reality.
This silence is the main method that the Japanese Buddhist exploit to eradicate Rodrigues belief in Christianity. The theory being that if they can force a Priest to apostasize, the Japanese peasants will follow suit. Basically, the Buddhist give Rodrigues an ultimatum: renounce your faith and the innocent will live or continue your belief while the innocent are brutally murdered. As you can imagine, this creates an extremely difficult catch-22 for Rodrigues as he torn between the two positions. He could renounce his faith and the let the innocent live but this creates a paradox that is almost impossible to reconcile because if he takes this position, it would simultaneously align with and subvert Rodrigues belief in Christianity. Obviously, protecting the innocent is a fundamental principle of Christianity and the renouncement of one's faith is an obvious subversion. Thus, the decision that is made is both a continuation and subversion of the Christian doctrine. In similar fashion, the other choice creates the exact same paradoxical situation. Due to this, it's impossible not to sympathize with Rodrigues' plight as any decision will ensure a tragic outcome, both physically and mentally. As we watch how Rodrigues is grinded through the various torture mechanism, we are in utter sympathy for a man who is attempting to withstand the breakdown of his essential belief system.
Unfortunately, there's only so much torture an individual can withstand and the Buddhist eventually get their desired outcome as Rodrigues renounces his faith. Simply put, to watch a priest that has placed the quintessential meaning of his life on a concept that he is forced to reject is heartbreaking. Even if you're not from a religious background and cannot understand the significance of such a moment, you should still be able to sympathize with the feeling of an existential crisis. The horrifying point in time when you stare out to the universe, just after the moment where your own subjective principles that have been governing your life suddenly signify nothing, and reality seems utterly meaningless. Regardless of your ideological background, Scorsese conveys Rodrigues tragedy with a level of power that demands our sympathy.
In spite of this bleakness, Scorsese ends Silence on a powerfully symbolic shot that suggests that despite the transgressions of Rodrigues, his faith is still present. The beauty of this final shot is not only from the rare glimpse of optimism that is provided but rather from the kind-hearted, and frankly more realistic, portrayal of God. A portrayal that insinuates that even if we think we have committed the most abysmal transgression in the eyes of God such as the apostasy, He will still accept us. These conclusive passages must have been highly personal for Scorsese, a man who has openly admitted the moments in his own life where he has strayed from the path of God and committed sin. However, just like Rodrigues, Scorsese returned to his belief despite his own moral shortcomings.