I have a confession. It was out of the pure, unmitigated desire to see Idris Elba, the delectably evil Stringer Bell from HBO's "The Wire", on the big screen that I agreed "to have church," via the movie theater on a Friday night. I must say, the guilt along with the redemption was worth it. And I know I'm a sinner in that I didn't know who to look at first, Idris in his wife-beaters and tailored suits or Boris Kodjo in washed jeans and black leather--too much glorious macho for one screen let alone one southern black church. Kodjo is warm, expressive, and impressively at ease in walking that line between saint and sinner as he uses his God given gift to save the church and at the same time is not above beating down the unrepentant if the situation demands it. If I have one complaint, it would be that the sexual rivalry was implicit but not fully heightened to dramatic ends, though I am sure such a heightening would have compromised the message. Nona Gaye's moments on screen, The Matrix, Crash, are always a visitation of nearly ethereal grace, nobility, and an uncompromising beauty. The audience applauded at movie's end, vowing to buy the soundtrack and pick up a prayer book.
Review of The Gospel
