Everybody agrees that the moral quality state of movies and television is at an all time low. If I listed all the objectionable shows and movie titles, this would be a very long post. Not all of Hollywood’s product has that fetid swampy character, of course. There are some outstanding dramas on television, and each year the occasional drop of golden sun hits the big screen, and, for a time, we sigh and are happy.
But most of the time we’re sick of the uncreative crapola that gets cranked out–year in and year out–by an industry that seems more interested in lauding its own “creative courage” (read politically correct agenda) than in making money for its investors. It’s not called show art; it’s show business.
Many Catholics think the answer is “more Catholic movies.” Well, this answer brings up a further question: what qualifies as a “Catholic movie?” How about a movie made by devout Catholics that highlights the goodness of a kindly nun? There’s a Catholic movie for you, right?
How about a movie shot near a cathedral that’s always out of focus in the background? Or one with a priest protagonist? Or one that’s set it a seminary or convent? Would these qualify? If the director (or screen writer) is a serious Catholic, are all his movies, by definition, “Catholic”?
People often point to the Academy Award-winning Braveheart (1995) as Exhibit A of what this mythical Truly Catholic Movie [tm] should aim for. This is puzzling, since Mel Gibson, its star and director, is a confirmed sedevacantist, and its writer, Randall Wallace, is a serious Protestant. By tagging Braveheart as “Catholic,” most people mean that that it effectively showcases masculine virtues like courage and loyalty, self-sacrifice and chivalry, in a way that is as subtle as it is engrossing.
The movie also has a faith backdrop of sorts, and some of the characters are seen devoutly praying. But why does it not bear the slightest whiff of the “Jesus Messaging Service” that may lesser attempts do?
I say the answer has to do with dropping the adjective Catholic before the subject artist. Whevever religion is inserted into the artistic process, the art almost always suffers. Practicing Christian moviemakers are, pound for pound, sure seem like a frightened lot. In wanting to avoid “offending God” by having their characters use “bad language,” they tend to overcook unreal piety and undercook real drama. Most out-of-the-closet Christians who make movies, do so for fellow Christians. And that is a good thing. But these movies simply do not connect with movie-goers who, by and large, rarely darken the doors of a church or synagogue.
No, it’s the secular Jews or lapsed Catholics like Frank Capra, Francis Ford Coppola, and Martin Scorcese, who tend invariably to integrate into their art a deep spiritual longing that stems from not having quite come home. To borrow from rock singer Bono’s power ballad, “They still haven’t found what they’re looking for.” (My point, by the way, is not to shower praise onto every movie ever made by these three, whom I mention only as examples.)
Then there is the Japanese.
For a nation with an eclectic (and eccentrically non-Christian) religious heritage, Japanese writers and directors have an impressive track record of creating films with the kind of quiet emotional power that brings to mind our phrase “Catholic movie.” From moving dramas such as Departures (2008) and Shall We Dance (1995), to the popular animated films from Tokyo’s Studio Ghibli, to the gritty novels like Silence by Shusaku Endo (soon to be adapted for the screen by Mr. Scorcese), Japan has produced an impressive canon of films that tap into universal human themes and situations involving familial and social conflict. Notice that word universal: the word Catholic comes from the Greek kata holikos, “of the whole” or universal.
So, as in the realm of Church membership, sometimes outsiders can be insiders and insiders can be outsiders.
As someone fed up with the quality assurance problem in Hollywood, I, along with rising director Dustin Kahia, have co-founded an indie film company called Immaculata Pictures (link: www.immaculatapictures.com). (This is separate from my work here at Catholic Answers.) We’re in the midst of a Kickstarter campaign (link: https://www.kickstarter.com/projects/735578036/call-of-the-void) to fund our first film, a black and white homage to the film noir era titled Call of the Void. If you want to be part of the solution, check out our video and find out how.
Popes since the 1920s have been urging the faithful to get into the dream factory of moviemaking. Modern pontiffs have often recognized the magnificent power of the cinema. In fact, the first Decree published at the Second Vatican Council, Inter Mirifica, was a call for laymen to get involved in creating meaningful media content. St. John Paul II wrote his Letter to Artists (1999) with the same exhortation. Immaculata Pictures is our small answer to that call. Join us, but above all, pray for us.
Because the American moviegoer has been abused for long enough.
This article is reprinted with permission from our friends at Catholic Answers.
