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Constantine
Director by Francis Lawrence
Warner Brothers
121 minutes (R rating)
Commentary by Kevin Miller
Perhaps
I was reading too much into the symbolic language of
this film, but when the opening shot featured two squatters
scrabbling around in the dusty ruins of a Mexican church,
I had a feeling institutional Christianity was in for
a rough ride. That feeling intensified when one of the
squatters
broke through the church’s rotting floor and discovered
a religious relic wrapped in a Nazi flag, no less. And
instead of bringing about healing or redemption, this
relic—the
so-called “Spear of Destiny” used to pierce
Jesus’ side following his crucifixion—brought
only death and destruction. In less than 60 seconds,
the filmmakers had depicted the church as irrelevant,
fascist,
superstitious, and lethal. Where were they going to go
from here?
As
the film progressed, however, I was surprised to discover
that Constantine wasn’t as interested
in attacking the church as it was in appropriating
various aspects of
Christian theology and mythology for its own purposes.
Using a mixture of Catholic and Protestant tradition
as raw material, the filmmakers created their own rather
fascinating
cosmology, one that posits—not unlike the book
of Job—that God and Satan have made a wager with
no less than the souls of humankind hanging in the
balance. The rules? No interference allowed, just influence.
The
cosmic super being with the most souls in the end wins.
Thrown into the mix is a race of half-breeds—half-human/half-angel
or demon. These are the “influence peddlers,” as
John Constantine calls them. With full-blooded demons
and angels restricted to their respectively hellish
and heavenly
realms, the half-breeds are the only non-human participants
in this celestial game.
Every
so often, one of these half-breeds breaks the rules, moving
from influence
to interference. When
this happens,
Constantine steps in and “deports” them
back to hell. To do so, he employs a combination
of pagan and
Catholic artifacts and rituals, a fact that is sure
to incite those who hold allegiance to the Vatican.
How did
John Constantine—a mere human—inherit
such a role? Since he was a child, the spiritual
beings
that haunt this world were plainly visible to him,
and he to
them. Eventually, this “gift” of seeing
became so overwhelming that Constantine tried to
commit suicide
as a way of escape. But rather than offer an escape
from hell, his actions delivered him to that place
of fire and
brimstone instead—in strict accordance to Catholicism’s
rules about such matters. Two minutes later, his
soul was yanked back to the land of the living. But
for
Constantine,
it felt like he had been gone for an eternity.
Forever
altered by his sojourn into hell but knowing he
was doomed to return as a consequence for his
sin, Constantine
has dedicated his life to deporting as many demons
as possible in the hope that eventually God will
relent and grant him
admission to heaven. The point that Constantine
keeps overlooking though—as a half-breed angel named
Gabriel reminds him—is that right actions aren’t
an admission ticket into God’s graces. Being
on God’s side
is more about faith and denial of self in favor of
focusing steadfastly on the divine. Even
before his stint in hell, faith was not something
with which John Constantine struggled. Who needs
faith when the things hoped for, the things unseen—and
the things most feared—are all around you
(cf. Hebrews 11:1)? It’s devoting himself
to following God that poses the real problem to
Constantine, but
not because
he is inherently self-centered. He just doesn’t
see the point of it. And who can blame him? With
a God who
merely toys with the beings he has created, why
would anyone put discipleship above self-preservation,
trust before
watching out for number one? God’s apparent
indifference to the affairs of Men puts him not
only in the same league
as the devil but also on the same team. Such a
God could not be anything but evil. But not all
hope
is lost for
Constantine. Despite appearances to the contrary,
eventually even he comes to believe that God might
have a plan for
his life after all, one that doesn’t involve
relegating him to eternal damnation.
No
doubt, many Christians will be upset that this film takes
such license with orthodox theology.
This might
be a valid criticism if Constantine actually
tried
to portray
its version of the spiritual world as true—the
same way author Dan Brown tried to portray The Da Vinci Code’s version of church history as correct. However,
the people behind this film make no bones about
the fact that they
are constructing a fantasy, period.
Despite its deistic, dualistic portrayal of good
and evil and its crass reduction of the church
to an inconsequential,
fascist, spiritually bankrupt institution, Constantine does contain some fodder for serious contemplation.
Few
Christian films have done a better job of depicting
the difference between works and grace. And few
mainstream films offer such a strong affirmation
of the spiritual
dimension of life, showing it to be every bit
as real and
consequential as the physical. Constantine also
addresses a number of spiritual questions that
seem particularly
pressing at this point in time, questions like “Is
God good?” “Does he have a plan for
me?” “Is
he out to get me?” “Is he even there?” and “What
must I do to be saved?”
No
one would expect a supernatural thrill ride like this film
to
provide all the answers. But
the fact
that it even
attempts to grapple with such issues sets it
apart from films that seek merely to entertain
and puts
it among those
that border on being truly significant.
Copyright
@ 2005 Kevin Miller
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