I was once nearly assaulted for passing judgment on a film.
Years ago, I sat in a movie theater watching James Cameron’s Titanic with my brother. Silently we endured the overwrought production until, as the film ground to an end and the romantic lead froze to death in the icy waters of the North Atlantic, we thrust up our arms simultaneously with a cry of joy—joy in knowing that our torment watching this thing was soon to end. Scores of teary adolescent eyes turned on us with flames of anger.
Is it possible to judge a movie? And should a Catholic even bother to take the cinema seriously? Aren’t movies just a matter preference—Tim likes It’s a Wonderful Life, Susan loves You’ve Got Mail, Ethan’s enthralled with Terminator movies? Everyone is entitled to a preference since there is really no way to discuss or evaluate a movie any more than your choice of wine or the clothes you wear.
What’s at stake with a movie?
If Catholics think they need not reasonably discuss and evaluate movies—perhaps the most pervasive and influential part of modern culture for a century—then what can they discuss? Perhaps the reaction to hide within the subjective— “Who am I to judge?”—explains more than movies in our current moment of cultural confusion.
But what chance do evangelization or apologetics have if Catholics are unwilling to study, evaluate, and discuss cultural phenomena such as films? Is the safe path to let people have their likes and dislikes (apart, of course, from cases in which the content of the film is graphically offensive)?
Thornier still: what exactly are we condemning in those instances, and on what grounds? Shall we say everything goes, up to a specified few inches of flesh or number of pints of spilt blood? The issue of movies for Catholic viewers is the broader issue of culture: do we engage it, fight it, understand it, ignore it, transform it, build it, or what?
Hey, popes care about movies
This is not a new problem. For more than a century, thoughtful Catholics have pondered the nature of film. The Catholicism of some directors (Alfred Hitchcock, Frank Capra, John Ford, Francis Ford Coppola, and Martin Scorsese, to name a few) clearly informs their artistry, regardless of their personal consistency with respect to doctrine. The creativity and reflection of Catholic film critics and directors greatly influenced papal consideration of film.
That’s right—the popes have written about film, movies, directors, actors, film production, distribution, and even the experience of going into movie theaters. From Vigilanti Cura, Pius XI’s 1936 encyclical on motion pictures, to various observations of Pope Benedict, the papacy has expressed its interest in filmmaking and the sociology of film viewing.
So important was the collection and study of film that Pope Pius XII created first the Pontifical Commission for the Study and Ecclesiastical Evaluation of Films on Religious and Moral Subjects (1948) and the Pontifical Commission for Cinema (1952). No pontiff took cinema and filmmaking as seriously as did Pius XII. His meetings with producers, directors, and actors culminated in two apostolic exhortations on film (both 1955). His thoughts are penetrating and his language vivid: he speaks of the then-new art of cinema with its “almost magical power of summoning into the darkness of its halls” and wishes everyone to take seriously the technical skills and psychological depths of this visual art.
The most famous action under the prior seven pontiffs was John Paul II’s request for a positive assessment of the first 100 years of cinema—“the masterpieces of the art of film,” as he put it. This request resulted in the Pontifical Commission’s list of forty-five “important films,” typically called the Vatican Film List (see sidebar).
Catholics are pro-art
Art is a fundamental aspect of man’s search for and expression of meaning. The Catechism of the Catholic Church says:
Arising from talent given by the Creator and from man’s own effort, art is a form of practical wisdom, uniting knowledge and skill, to give form to the truth of reality in a language accessible to sight or hearing. To the extent that it is inspired by truth and love of beings, art bears a certain likeness to God’s activity in what he has created. Like any other human activity, art is not an absolute end in itself but is ordered and ennobled by the ultimate end of man (2501).
A principle of art in Christian culture has always been that the craftsman make good and proper use of creation. “Good and proper” means both skillful according to autonomous artistic principles and moral according to reality and natural law.
Most U.S. dioceses have abandoned local commentary on movies, and the United States Conference of Catholic Bishops has relegated its moral oversight to Catholic News Service (CNS). Even so, it should be clear that evaluation according to ethical norms is expected and must be guided by longstanding moral teachings, much of which is evident in classical as well as Hebrew and Christian society.
Do parents actually read the CNS reviews? Do other Catholic publications attempt film reviews? Based on my conversations with young Catholics students throughout the country, the CNS effort, while laudable, is too little known. Perhaps it is time for individual Catholics to understand that moral evaluation of movies is a universal responsibility and not just for bishops and their delegates.
Why are many Christian films so . . . lackluster?
Many well-intended Christians think their best strategy is to limit their movie watching to “safe and Christian.” While there are significant works among the films marketed or claimed as Christian (one thinks of the 2007 film Bella), a more common response of those viewing “Christian” films is boredom, if not discouragement, at facing a stream of such gems as Click Clack Jack, the God’s Not Dead series, or I Am Patrick.
Good movies may be beloved by Christians, but “Christian movies,” thoughtful Christians will admit, are frequently not very good. Why? Simple: “Christian” movies may succeed in protecting the adjective (“Christian”) but often fail in embodying the artistry of the medium.
A movie, like any art form, has its own standards and technical aspects. “It’s safe for the kids to watch while I take a nap” may be a good strategy for taking a nap but not for cultivating in your children a love of beauty, much less for engaging the culture or gaining maturity. If Catholics fail at seeing the art and what it demands of us, we fail not only fellow Christians but the very friends and neighbors we hope to engage about the highest things. Thus, it is imperative not only to recall our moral compass but also to give some artistic guidance for film interpretation.
Enjoying a movie thoughtfully
What technical know-how might help a viewer evaluate and discuss movies? There are libraries filled with books on the subject and film studies programs of varying quality. But for our purpose, I suggest focusing attention in two areas to develop our capacity to perceive and not merely watch.
Watching is passive. Perception is engaged reflection. It is the leaven of conversation and a necessary ingredient in evaluation.
So, what big ideas can you hold in your mind while watching—or better, if it’s good, rewatching—a movie? I call them composition and linking.
Big idea one: Composition
Composition starts with the camera itself. While you’re watching a movie, ask, “Where did the director put the camera and why? What’s the position of the camera, the angle, or the focus of lens? What has he put into each shot? Are there recurring angles, images, etc.?” Each segment of action in the boxed image you see on the screen—all that is the composition. The fancy French phrase for film composition is mis en scene, which means something like “setting the scene.”
Director Frank Capra was a master of composition. Consider any scene from his movie It’s a Wonderful Life involving a domestic moment or crowd: George Bailey having his last dinner with his father; all the scenes in Gower’s pharmacy or Mr. Potter’s bank; and, most famously, the last five minutes of the movie. Composition requires the careful selection of lenses and camera angles, the detailed blocking out of the movement of each actor, etc. The foresight and precision needed aren’t obvious, and that naturalness is a sign of art’s triumph.
Similarly, close-up scenes are like portraits, where lighting and subtle movement are part of the director’s palate, often combined with relative silence to create dramatic effect. Consider the close-ups on Jimmy Stewart in any pivotal moment in the movie, the finest being his slow awakening to horror in front of Martini’s (now Nick’s) Bar. In this and other scenes, Capra brought in aspects of film noir (crime movies) to create visual masterpieces that rival baroque painters.
Suggested films for studying composition: Duck Soup (1933), The Quiet Man (1952), Master and Commander (2003).
Big idea two: Linking
The second big idea to be aware of is something I’m calling linking. Visually, one of the most powerful “linkings” goes by another French word, montage. But I think the montage is part of a deeper human desire to see patterns, make patterns, and delight in patterns. Here ask yourself, “What does the director layer upon the scene, such as background sound, especially the music? How does he move from one scene to the next? Did he edit shot to shot well? Is there continuity between scenes? Are the actors paired well?”
Again, let’s consider It’s a Wonderful Life. In the less than seven minutes that make up the “run on the bank” scene, there are fifty-six separate shots constructed from hours of footage, filmed from carefully blocked angles under precise rehearsal conditions with at least three dozen actors, all crafted together without a flaw. The emotional impact comes from the sustained movement of the drama, combined with arresting moments of focus and the constant linking of dramatic scenes, emotions, and sounds. Watch it again.
Suggested films for studying linking: The Adventures of Robin Hood (1938), High Noon (1952), The Godfather I (1972).
A good film needs both
Films, of course, don’t offer just one or the other “big idea” but make regular use of many techniques that address both. Our viewing skills—as with any form of experience—increase through attentive encounters with excellence. I would recommend viewing three masterworks to test your ability to see the “big ideas.”
Masterworks that bring the two big ideas together seamlessly: Citizen Kane (1941), Singin’ in the Rain (1951), Lawrence of Arabia (1962).
At this point, you may be thinking, “What about actors? Isn’t this a little too focused on the director?” Many of us go to or return to movies because of our favorite actors. Acting is a craft, one in which extraordinary talent and courage combine to make a great actor. For what is acting other than the willingness to be vulnerable and reveal something of the self—and therefore of the human condition—before an audience?
But for grasping the fundamentals of perceptive film viewing, I would say the actors are secondary to the two “big ideas” listed above. Most of us when watching a movie see only the final take that the director has chosen, after potentially dozens of attempts, under highly regulated conditions. The result is masterful (or not) largely because of the director. For that reason, we are setting aside acting as a focal point in our discussion.
Time for the talkies: discussing film
If you want to discuss the artistry of a film, you should start with either of the two “big ideas” mentioned above. Those should encourage recollection and provoke a lively conversation about the film. One can further delve into single items contained within the “big ideas.” Does the director seem to be making (good) use of symbols? Has he woven in a fitting soundtrack? How does all that compare to other movies you can remember?
After this, an enjoyable way for serious film buffs to discuss films is by considering genre—what kind of movie is it—and then evaluating it by way of comparison. A war movie? (Does 1917 stand up to Paths of Glory?) A western? (How do Destry Rides Again, High Noon, and One-Eyed Jacks compare on the relationship of the individual and the community?) A comedy? Which kind—romantic (Roman Holiday), screwball (Bringing Up Baby), dark (Dr. Strangelove)? What is mystery—a film noir, such as the Maltese Falcon, or mental puzzle, such as The Prestige? What is the attraction of mystery?
Films can also be looked upon as cultural mirrors commenting on the concerns of the age, whether or not the film is set in a contemporary moment (e.g., Modern Times, Twelve Angry Men, Breaker Morant, Blade Runner, Fight Club). Movies with strong social commentary typically strive to discover the enduring qualities of humans in changing or dangerous times. Genre and themes can also overlap or blend, which generates interesting questions: is Star Wars actually a western? Is Casablanca a war movie, a romance, or a “buddy movie”? Is Patton best understood as a critique of war or the glorification of a hero? Such questions elevate conversation and invite participants to have a standard for evaluation.
After the final credits
You may ask, “But isn’t it okay just to chill out and watch a movie? All I want to do is relax. All this thinking. Does a Catholic have to do that?” I would answer robustly with Pius XII: relaxing and being diverted from ordinary burdens is a great thing and an important aspect of wholesome entertainment. Of course it’s okay to chill out and just watch.
That said, there is an old medieval dictum, “You cannot love what you do not know.” If movies are just a tool for recreation, that is that. But if you truly enjoy movies, then you’ll want to understand them. To say otherwise is like saying you like to dress well but know only one knot for your tie; or that you like wine but don’t care if it’s a merlot or a chardonnay, let alone care about what kind of soil the grapes grew in.
When I was growing up, my family went to the movie theater almost every week. It was when the movie was over and the credits came up that I became excited, because the popcorn was an insipid appetizer to the Chinese dinner or Italian feast that always followed. The Faheys would occupy a restaurant table for hours on end, debating the merits of every movie we saw. I own a small film library now and have heard many lectures on films, but none of them can compare to the richness of those mealtime conversations.
Being fully human means conversing about things that matter. Without rich conversations, what are we? Movies are an inextricable part of our cultural memory and discourse. If as Catholics we avoid taking them seriously, we do so to the peril of our society—and we risk a great loss of joy in our own lives.
Sidebar:
Movies: Ten Principles
From the array pontifical writings, we can observe several crucial principles regarding film:
- Catholics should recognize and study the power of film.
- Film is an art, and like all arts, has its own integrity and rules.
- Film as an art can be used for man’s recreation and perfection or his debasement.
- Evaluation of film is necessary but requires that individuals be familiar with the techniques and conventions of film as well as the principles of Catholic morality and doctrine.
- There is such a thing as a film standard, or “ideal film,” which—in the words of Pius XII—has a “lofty and positive mission.”
- That mission is—again, in the words of Pius XII—to offer “some reflection of the true, the good, and the beautiful: in a word, a ray of God.”
- Catholic evaluations of film should be clear on moral defects but should not be puritanical—in the words of John Paul II on art in general: “Even when they explore the darkest depths of the soul or the most unsettling aspects of evil, artists give way to the universal desire for redemption.”
- Movies that may reasonably be said to lead to moral confusion, skepticism regarding the virtues or traditional social goods (such as marriage and the family), the degradation of the human person, or addiction to violence or sexual misconduct must be condemned; with “gray areas,” an audience must be forewarned with clarity of the potential danger.
- Artistic and moral activity is both distinct and related, requiring a respectful balance.
- The capacity both to create and to recognize beauty is part of our human nature and must be cultivated for man to fulfil his proper end, which is ordered to transcendence.
Sidebar:
45 for the Ages
The Vatican Film List
Religious
Andrei Rublev (1966)
Babette’s Feast (1987)
Ben-Hur (1959)
The Flowers of St. Francis (1950)
Francesco (1989)
The Gospel According to St. Matthew (1966)
La Passion de Notre Seigneur Jesus-Christ (1905)
A Man for All Seasons (1966)
The Mission (1986)
Monsieur Vincent (1947)
Nazarin (1958)
Ordet (1955)
The Passion of Joan of Arc (1928)
The Sacrifice (1986)
Thérèse (1986)
Values
Au Revoir les Enfants (1988)
Bicycle Thieves (1949)
The Burmese Harp (1956)
Chariots of Fire (1981)
Dekalog (1988)
Dersu Uzala (1975)
Gandhi (1982)
Intolerance (1916)
It’s a Wonderful Life (1946)
On the Waterfront (1954)
Rome, Open City (1945)
Schindler’s List (1993)
The Seventh Seal (1957)
The Tree of Wooden Clogs (1978)
Wild Strawberries (1957)
Art
Citizen Kane (1941)
8½ (1963)
Fantasia (1940)
Grand Illusion (1937)
La Strada (1954)
The Lavender Hill Mob (1951)
The Leopard (1963)
Little Women (1933)
Metropolis (1927)
Modern Times (1936)
Napoleon (1927)
Nosferatu (1922)
Stagecoach (1939)
2001: A Space Odyssey (1968)
The Wizard of Oz (1939)