Nativity Scenes Revisited - Part 4: The Nativity (2010)

In the absence of a significant Jesus film this year, the BBC version's of The Nativity remains the most recent portrayal of the events surrounding Jesus' birth. The first three half hour episodes I watched with the kids, but knowing the content was a little harsher in the final episode I watched that one alone.

It's hard to really explain to a 5 year old and a three year old why "funny Joseph" as they had been calling him suddenly got scarily angry, but it speaks volumes of Andrew Buchan's performance that as an adult I could appreciate that his reaction wasn't as extreme as might be expected in the circumstances.

The downsides were perhaps a little more obvious this time around. Whilst I still think this is one of the, if not the, best versions of the Nativity Story on film some of the things that make it good also rein it back from becoming great. Paramount in my thoughts here is the soap-operainess of the whole thing. On the plus side the characters are well rounded, and simply by making it a kind of soap opera a lot of the religious veneer is stripped away. It's unclear how special Mary and Joseph know they are. Weird things are happening to them, yet they are not being transported to another plain of reality - they remain the same people. But then at times it does just feel a little too like Eastenders. In a way that's no bad thing - Eastenders is a far better soap than most in the world as well as in this country - but there's nevertheless a tension between the side of me that likes to see religious fluff blown away, and the side that wants there to be some sense of gravity. Perhaps in the end it's just one or two moments that just take me out of things and make me feel I'm watching a soap opera, and, at the end of the day, I don't watch soap operas.

It also feels a little over long. I'd be interested to see the film cut down to one ninety minute feature. I think it would benefit from being a little leaner. Part of the problem here is that gradually drawing the three threads alive requires each to be kept alive, but that the side stories never land as well as that of Mary and Joseph. That said some of the birthing footage would be amongst the first to go were I trying to chop half an hour out of the programme.

What I do like about the final episode is the way Joseph is shown as returning to his ancestral home rather than, as is usually the case, just a random town. He still has family there, and it's there rejection of Mary, and Joseph's dislike at the way they treat her that sees the two of them stuck in a stable. Lastly the final few shots of this catch something of the otherness of this moment. Some films do it with soaring scores attempting to direct your emotions, other with lighting or dialogue. Here however, it's with quietness and humility. Suddenly it makes no sense that these Magi and these shepherds even, are on their knees worshipping a little baby. It's odd and yet there they remain rooted to the spot and aware of their own smallness in the presence of one smaller even than themselves.

Nativity Scenes Revisited - Part 3: King of Kings (1961)

I know Christmas ended yesterday in the west, but as there is at least one regular reader of this blog that celebrated Christmas yesterday, I thought I might make at least one more entry in this series before moving on. In fact, there might be at least one more give the last news from Mark Goodacre). Besides I got a new Blu-Ray / up-scaling DVD player yesterday and this is is usually the first Bible film I head for in these circumstances.

For a three hour film, the Nativity sequence is surprisingly short at just three and a half minutes, although, as with other entries in my series, that's excluding the slaughter of the innocents. In this film that's quite a significant point. The Nativity sequence is just a part of a much bigger prologue, which last for around 18 minutes in total. The thrust of this prologue is political and historical rather than theological. The film is big on the political context of the Romans invading and oppressing the Jews; the violent attempts to overthrow them by some; and Jesus' coming as the Prince of Peace.

The Nativity scenes themselves are a bit mixed. There are a couple of astounding long shots, but the closer scenes look too obviously fake. This is made worse by the voices not being in-sync with the actor's mouths.

Orson Welles narrates over a series of shots of the holy couple starting as specks in the distance and then in a wide shot and then in a mid shot. The next scene is Bethlehem which the voice notes has been "much corrupted by Rome" (again inserting the political) and Joseph struggling to find somewhere for Mary to give birth. Eventually they find the cleanest stable, not only in Bethlehem, but one suspects, the whole world.

One thing that is striking is that the birth happens entirely "off camera". There's not even an establishing shot accompanied by relevant sounds or a fraught looking Joseph. The first we see of it is a remarkably perky looking Mary laying down the new born king.

There's a beautiful shot of the magi following the star, one of those that relies on its movement for it's composition - I couldn't find a screen grab that captured its essence - shots like this are truly cinematic. Then it's back to the studio as the magi dismount and continue on foot to the rather twee "ah-ah-ahs" of the background chorus. Unlike the magi, the shepherds are not mentioned, but have already arrived and there's a couple of classic Nativity scenes before the scene ends in a classic pose. Interestingly this nicely composed shot bears very little relation to the reverse shot that is shown directly before it.Like other artistic interpretations of Matthew's gospel there is a certain level of parallelism between Jesus the new born king and Herod the Great. Here however things are ramped up. The scene after the stable scene is of Herod and his son who will also go on to be a king (or at least a tetrarch) in discussion with Lucius about the "King of Judea". Interestingly Herod senior almost seems to defer to his son as to the best course of action. Herod junior plays it with a straight bat, preferring to bide his time one the one hand whilst simultaneously giving tacit approval to his father's horrendous solution. Lucius objects but obeys, yet it's here that his long path to salvation begins - it seems as if this is the first time Rome's orders have ever clashed with his own morals.

Nativity Scenes Revisited - Part 2:Life and Passion of Jesus Christ

Having started with Pasolini's nativity scene a few days ago, I thought we'd go back to the beginning and look at The Life and Passion of Jesus Christ. My kids have watched silent films before, mainly Buster Keaton, so it wasn't so much of an education. That said the real advantage for them of watching this film was that it kind of predates intertitles, or rather it still has title cards, but not the cards which tell you what the characters are saying. In many ways this is very good for young kids who know the story, but wouldn't necessarily grasp the dialogue, and it helps me talk get used to the idea of interpreting film, and thinking about what they watch.

The other thing it gave me the chance to talk to them about was the fact that moving images are in fact a series of still images. I didn't go too far with this one, but as Nina asked some very interesting questions about the black and white to colour process here, it was a good chance to talk about hand colouring and how laborious that was because it was frame by frame and so on.

To my mind it"s still rather unclear about which parts of this film emerged when. In the early days the content of this film wasn't fixed in the way that is universal today. There was a catalogue of the available tableaux (scenes) that distributors/theatre owners could choose from, so the content of this film was fluid from the start, which explains why there are so many versions of this film available today, in very different cuts, some scenes hand coloured by nuns, some not, and so on. And this film appears to have been doing the rounds for a long time. Parts of the material appear to date from the nineteenth century, one widely available version of the film with a few sound effects dates from 1933 (I seem to recall. Don't quote me on that).

One of the reasons I mention that is because whilst the date of this film is usually cited as around 1905 (give or take a few years) some of the techniques are quite advanced. Take for example the faded in appearance of the angel to Mary. My knowledge of early techniques is limited to things like double exposures, shielding and so on, but I don't know how exactly they get the angel to fade in so smoothly. Feel free to fill me in below!

Likewise when the wise men (who have previously been filmed using a blue filter) arrive in the stable (hand coloured), there is a certain amount of camera panning here (very rare in its day, perhaps one of the earliest example?) and for a while it's unclear how the two colour styles are going to resolved. In the end the right hand side of the screen is filtered blue whilst the coloured characters against the black and white background are on the left. It's an ugly shot, but it's fascinating seeing the filmmakers wrestle with these questions, develop processes, and develop solutions, even if they are not entirely satisfactory a hundred years later. It breaks our visual code, but was, in a way, part of creating such a visual code to begin with.

I was also reminded in watching these scenes about something I've been meaning to say since seeing this film in a proper cinema a couple of years ago: Pathé have placed their logo on a number of the film's sets. I'm not sure whether this was merely crass advertising, or some form of early copyright (meaning that either the film, or the sets could be easily identified in case someone tried to use them without permission), but it seems Incredibly crass here. Less noticeable on the small screen, but certainly obtrusive when seen in a cinema,

I mentioned a few years back how this film misses out the innkeeper, and this scene retains a good deal of interest. For one thing when a couple with a donkey arrive on the scene right at the start many will expect that they are Mary and Joseph, but in fact they are just two of the extras who disappear off screen moments later. The arrival of the real Mary and Joseph is heralded by the clearing of the set, but their arrival on foot strikes a real contrast with the bedonkeyed couple that have preceded them. It also adds a sense of unease. Is that Mary and Joseph or just someone else?

There's also a nice piece of paralleling between the shepherd scene and the Ascension. Both feature a horizontally split screen to reveal heaven above and earth below, and whereas in this scene the good news is coming from heaven, later the subject of that good news will be making the return trip.

Nativity Scenes Revisited - Part 1:Il Vangelo Secondo Matteo

I thought a good way to resurrect this blog would be to revisit some of the film portrayals of the Nativity story in the run up to Christmas. It's a good way to attempt to ensure that the kids don't get so focussed on the fat guy in the red suit that they forget about why we celebrate Christmas in the first place.

In many ways Il Vangelo Secondo Matteo (The Gospel According to St. Matthew) is not an obvious place to start with a 3 year old and a 5 year old, but the more I thought about it, the more it seemed like an interesting idea. Firstly I occasionally hear some of my friends complain that all their kids ever watch is cartoons. That's always seemed a shame to me, so we've always tried to give them a mix of cartoons/CGI with films with people. The Adventures of Robin Hood (1938) and Singin' in the Rain (1952) have long been favourites and there are plenty of others.

Secondly, I also want to broaden their horizons so they are not just limited to Anglo-American fare. Studio Ghibli is a great place to start, and the more I thought about it the more I could see Pasolini's film as being another easy access point. After all they are already familiar with the Nativity story, and this part of the film has relatively little dialogue. As it happens Nina has all kinds of snippets of language under her belt that are unknown to me: just the other day she was saying hello in Romanian or Albanian (she wasn't quite sure which) that she had picked up from a Romanian/ Albanian friend at school.

There's a third reason as well that Il Vangelo is good place to start. Most images of the nativity picture it rather laviously. Mary wears royal blue and salmon pink robes, the wise men are dressed as kings, even the shepherds are relatively handsome. Pasolini cuts his images from a more basic fabric. His wise men - clearly rich due to their substantial entourages - are ordinary looking. They have time weathered faces and their dress is - compared to their rivals from other films - relatively threadbare. When they bring their gifts they are not conveniently smelted lumps of gold nicely packaged in a decorative case, they are a selection of jugs and goblets held in a blanket (I have Nina to thank for drawing my attention to that).

Whilst there are many anachronisms in Pasolini's images, clothes and backgrounds, his locating of the story primarily in a peasant culture, in a poorer, less luxurious age is quite striking, and a nice antidote to the typical religious Christmas card image.

Aside from the educational advantages that Pasolini's film provides, it's also just a great piece of filmmaking. One of my favourite moments in all cinema is the silent arrival of the magi accompanied by the haunting sounds of Odetta's "Sometimes I Feel Like a Motherless Child". It's remarkably moving and poignant and captures the holiness and spirituality of the moment, whilst simultaneously highlighting the relative loneliness of Jesus' birth and calling compared to most these days.

The other major segment of this part of the film is, of course, the annunciation. This is also simply wonderful. The opening dialogue-free scenes convey far more in their close-ups and images than most films with dialogue. Mary has, presumably, just told Joseph of her pregnancy and is at a loss for any further explanation. Joseph is similarly speechless. When the angel appears in a dream there are no flashing lights, just a girl in a white dress against a toned down background sound. The reconciliation is similarly wordless. In a sense little has changed - neither can find the words to express what is going on. Yet clearly, in another sense everything has changed. Margherita Caruso (Mary) allows the corners of her mouth to flicker the smallest bit at Joseph's return, and then Pasolini makes us wait for what feels like an age before allowing her a proper smile. The delay triggers a far greater emotional response than such a flicker of happiness would normally provide.

Around these two scenes we get Herod and his cronies, again ordinary looking, but with a nicely underplayed hint of the sinister, and the girl angel appearing again to Joseph and the magi to warn them of the impending attack from Herod. The later is again wordless. The angel stands in their path, looks in one direction and then leas them in another.

The gamble worked. The kids enjoyed it, even the three year old Digory managed sat relatively engrossed, and Nina declared at the end "I like watching Italian film". As a lover of Pasolini and Rossellini's neo-realist cinema I can't wait until she can read well enough to be able to introduce her to some more.

Friday Night, Saturday Morning: Monty Python vs The Church

Having been waiting to see this for years now, it was very pleasing to discover that the show had been re-broadcast by BBC4 to coincide with the broadcast of Holy Flying Circus last Wednesday. It's available on iPlayer for two more days.

For those unfamiliar with the details, in the run up to the release of Life of Brian the BBC's late night talk show in hosted the now infamous debate between John Cleese, Michael Palin, Malcolm Muggeridge and Mervyn Stockwood, the then Bishop of Southwark. It must have made a big impact then as well: shortly afterwards the TV comedy sketch show "Not the Nine O'Clock News" produced a well-executed spoof.

Having seen numerous clips of this debate over the years, almost whenever the film is discussed in fact, I have long wanted to see the whole thing, and have wondered why the full version hadn't appeared on any of the many special edition DVDs of Life of Brian.

The most likely reason for this it now appears is length. Given that most comparable programmes today usually restrict such items to 15 minutes; that I always seem to see the same few excerpts; and from what I'd gleaned from various discussions of the programme, I'd always assumed it was about 10-15 minutes. In fact the programme spends over 52 minutes on the subject, briefly squeezing in a song from Paul Jones and a chat with Norris McWhirter before it ended 15 minutes later.

Something else also became fairly clear: the reason that these same few excerpts are repeated again and again (despite the quantity of material) is that the debate was incredibly poor. Leaving aside the fact that Stockwood and Muggeridge, and to a much lesser extent Cleese and Palin, fail to listen to what their opponents are saying, chairman Tim Rice, just lets the church representatives drone on and on about irrelevant side issues. No wonder modern day programmes tend to keep things shorter.

Part of this is perhaps because they missed the crucial opening scenes of the film which established that Brian was not Jesus, but it was mainly due to the pair being allowed to bring notes, and Rice's deferential attitude to them. The 1970s were a very different time, with the authority of the church having a far greater hold - for instance the first ever "Question Time" featured a bishop, but I can only remember that happening once when I've watched it and I'm an avid fan. Stockwood in particular seemed to think the he was entitled to go on and on rather tangentially, and Rice seems too intimidated to step in.

I suppose this was also due in part to the fact that Palin and Cleese were interviewed on their own first, and so, to a certain extent, had already had their say. Yet the subjects being discussed were far less controversial in this section. They talked about the process of raising the finance, and how they develop the script and so on. There were even a couple of interesting points around Bible films. Incredibly for a man who only a few years before had contributed to a hit film about Jesus, Rice had never heard of Rossellini, or Il Messia, which was released just two years after Jesus Christ, Superstar. Secondly Cleese makes the point that three more biblical comedy films were in production, which makes me wonder which one. Wholly Moses (1980) would seem obvious, but it tries so hard to cash in on Life of Brian that it's hard to imagine that it was close to completion much before Brian's welease. Mel Brooks' History of the World: Part 1 (1981) would be the other likely choice, but as to a third, all I can think of is the French film Deux heures moins le quart avant Jésus-Christ, released in 1982.

That said, it was this section of the show that contained what was, for me, one of the most interesting parts of the show.

Rice
"Is there anything that could offend you on screen"

Cleese (shrugs, then pauses)
"I have one tiny quibble and I think that Terry Jones and Graham Chapman would no doubt disagree with me, but I think the crucifixion thing at the end is not about pain, it's about death and they are very separate."

Rice
"So what's your beef?" [i.e. what's your problem?]

Cleese
My beef is that there are one or two close-ups of one or two people registering pain and I think that that confuses what the last thing's about. 'Cos I mean one's not really making fun of the fact that someone has been flayed to this flesh hung down and then nailed up. The point of that last thing is that it's about death, y'know it's about attitudes to death, and it's quite possible, to be relatively cheery about death, quite possible. I'm not saying it's easy.

Cleese elaborates on this later on including talking about how if Christianity is true then death does have a bright side. I must admit that I've never really thought about that final scene in that way. I'm not sure the latter point holds up that well, but I'm certainly intrigued by the part of his answer quoted above.

The above exchange is typical, actually, of Cleese's attitude throughout the debate. It's often been said that he and Palin were trying to have a serious debate and the two non-comedians were playing for, and getting, the laughs. Indeed one point that really stood out to me is when Cleese is trying to make a serious point but because his answer sounds like something out of a Python sketch the audience laugh, and Cleese looks almost aggrieved that his serious point has been lost because it was mistaken for a joke. Cleese steals the show actually. Stockwood and Muggeridge are two smug and too entrenched to really get their point across, indeed it could be argued that this debate was the defining moment of the established church's weakening grip on authority. Palin for his part is clearly furious and insulted and whilst his restraint is impressive, it hampers his contribution to the discussion.

One final thing that I found interesting was how little these debates have changed in some ways. Whenever some perceived "outrage" is perpetuated against Christianity, someone will always object that "they" would dare to do this kind of thing about Islam. This argument is put to Cleese and he demolishes fairly well, by explaining about the dominance, authority, history and impact on the culture that Christianity has had and how this is why they set their sights on it. So it's surprising that 30+ years later the argument is still trotted out overlooking the fact that people do satirise Islam, and that Jesus is also considered a prophet in Islam.

Secondly Stockwood/Muggeridge also lament the declining standards in biblical understanding. Perhaps this is even worse now than it was, but it was interesting to note that this was a point of debate even then. Other things are different though. The opening credits are far racier than any you see today - a couple seemingly naked and in bed stop to turn on the show. It wasn't clear if this was during, after or instead of having sex, but whichever way there would probably be a fair amount of complaint about increasing sexualisation of our culture were this to happen today.

Overall then, the debate was a bit of a disappointment. The best bits have obviously been shown many times before and what is usually left out was fairly dreary. If only Rice had been David Dimbleby. At least Dimble might have heard of Rossellini.

Holy Flying Circus

There have been many controversial films, books and television programmes over the years, but there's something completely different about Monty Python's Life of Brian: people actually like it. Many defend the right of Martin Scorsese to have made Last Temptation of Christ, or Salman Rushdie to have written "The Satanic Verses", but few people have the strength of feeling for them as they do for the anarchic tale of a man who was mistaken for the Messiah.

It's no doubt because of this strength of feeling that BBC4 commissioned Holy Flying Circus about the events leading up to the release of the film. The programme is the latest in a long series of fictional recreations of the off screen lives of 60s and 70s entertainers and focuses on the, now infamous, TV debate between Michael Palin and John Cleese on the one hand, and the Bishop of Southwark and Malcolm Muggeridge on the other. The story is told from three sides, that of the Pythons, that of the programme's production team, and a group of Christians (distinct from Muggeridge and the bishop) who object to the film.

All of which makes it sound rather dull, except for the fact that the story is told in a surreal and Pythonesque way. In addition to the general atmosphere of silliness we also have over-the-top characters, men playing women, animated sequences, John Cleese played as Basil Fawlty, obscure interludes and even a scene inside an alien spaceship. In short Holy Flying Circus tries to make the medium the message.

One further similarity is the way which both films have Jesus speaking at the start of the film and then not really again. Life of Brian famously shows Jesus giving the Sermon on the Mount before the camera pans out to those at the back who can't quite hear what's being said. But Holy Flying Circus has Jesus explain in Aramaic - a clear nod to The Passion of the Christ, another controversial religious film - that the story is largely fictional, and just to make the point it has the supposed Jesus-figure fart.

I suspect that many people, were they to see the film, would find that pretty offensive and will also be unhappy with the language and the nudity. I suspect the programme-makers would defend it on the grounds that doing so re-ignites the same battle now that the Pythons were fighting then. Sadly I don't think that's true. Is using the C word, doing Tourette's jokes and showing a penis for the sake of it really edgy, or just a bit like the kind of jokes Cambridge students might do "on a damp Tuesday afternoon"?

That's not to say it isn't funny. Parts of it are very funny, particularly Mark Heap's turn as the head of the Christian protesters. But overall it's rather hit and miss; the odd laugh out loud moment interspersed with mediocre jokes and self-indulgent rubbish.

But in the final quarter of an hour, the film changes gear and actually gives a reasonable and extensive portrayal of the talk show debate. This was particularly interesting to me as there are still parts of the debate that I have ever seen (indeed I was reflecting earlier that if Holy Flying Circus ever gets released as a DVD this would be an excellent special feature.

This last part of the film, interspersed with the occasional deviation into Michael Palin's mind, is clearly the strongest part as the gags are refined a little and the drama takes over a little. Much of this is also due to a stronger focus on the better portrayed characters. Charles Edwards's take on Palin is outstanding. Complex and nuanced Edwards manages to play the domestic scenes touchingly despite the fact he is playing opposite Rufus Jones in drag. Darren Boyd also does a great job playing Basil Fawlty even if the concept he was given is a bit odd, but the others are rather weak. Punt is hopeless as Eric Idle and he and the three of the other Pythons are all rather two-dimensional. Lastly Stephen Fry's turn as God demonstrated precisely why his status as national treasure is beginning to drift.

So whilst the concept of telling a story about Python in the style of Python is good, and whilst some of the performances are very impressive indeed, the overall effect is rather like the sketch shows described by Palin's taxi driver home - "very hit and miss".

Dim Recollections - Moses und Aron

Over on the Bible Films Facebook page - which is where you should go for latest news, and other people's reviews about Bible Films (you don't have to "do" Facebook to read it!) - Peter Chattaway has posted news that Jean-Marie Straub and Danièle Huillet's 1973 adaptation of Moses und Aron was recently screened in New York. It's been a long time since I saw the film, but it's one of those films that has stuck with me if for no other reason than it's the only feature length film I've seen that is anything like it.

The film is an adaptation of Arnold Schönberg's unfinished opera, Moses und Aron. Two other versions of Schönberg's piece have been released in the last few years, neither of which I've managed to see, but both of which I am keen to see. If nothing else I feel they might help me get a better understanding of Schönberg's work to enable me to grapple with what Straub and Huillet are doing with the material.

In other words, then, Moses und Aron is not for the faint-hearted; I would class it as the least accessible film I have ever seen. Schönberg's opera is a complex exploration of how hearing God speak is an ineffable experience. It works on the interplay between Moses and Aaron. Moses is able to hear God's voice, but is unable to express what God has said correctly. Aaron on the other hand has the task of disseminating what Moses tells him for the sake of the masses. In the process much is lost, and essentially it's that which the libretto is trying to explore. What gets lost in translation?

Schönberg never finished the third act and so only his lyrics remain, which shows that even the great man never quite got a hold on his subject matter, which makes me feel a little better for never managing to write down my thoughts on watching the film. He also pioneered in the field of atonal music - which uses notes independently of the standard scales with a single central tone. This means that even the music to the opera is not easy to appreciate and enjoy.

Filming such material was never going to result in box office gold, but Straub and Huillet also have their own set of complex ideas that they wish to explore by adapting Schönberg's material. The majority of their work was, in fact, adapting established works. Indeed, the only other piece of theirs I have seen is Toute révolution est un coup de dés (Every Revolution Is a Throw of the Dice - 1977) was an adaptation of Stéphane Mallarmé's poem. I'm sure that in this day and age there are several others available to watch online, and so I should really watch more. Not to mention my need to read the two booksI have about their work.

Their style is so cinematically austere, that it makes your standard Dogme film look like Scott Pilgrim vs. the World. They use long, long shots, with very little movement. The image that is most prominent in my mind of this film is such a shot of the back of Moses head. There's also a lack of dramatic action. The focus of the film is the relationship between Moses and his brother, but there are occasional scenes with the rest of the Israelites (the chorus). But they remain stationary in the kind of rigid formation you expect from watching a choir perform live, rather than how you would expect a crowd to act - even in an opera.

The austerity has a point however: it's pushing questions about cinema's form to an extreme. As David Thomson puts it in his essay on Straub ¹.

What we think of as story is invariably the effect of a chosen way of filming. The medium is intensely decision based, and thus there has always been an abiding formal element to it.

...There is a further, inevitable kind of order in the sequence of shots within a film. And although Straub's work has alarmed audiences and been enjoyed by relatively few, it is built upon the assertion that in cinema we respond to those sequences; that composition; light, movement, and sound play upon our thoughts and feelings."

I'm not sure I fully understand that, but it's the most succinctly clear summary I have to hand!

The final act is just read out - no music exists and so in some ways the final act is less accessible for more conservative opera fans, although conversely it does mean that the film becomes a little less accessible for the average film-goer.

In Straub and Huillet's hands the opera also explores the question of word vs image, which is very in-keeping with the second commandment's ban on graven images, often understood as a ban on using images to gain a greater intellectual or spiritual understanding of God.

So that's about it really, like I said, dim recollections. There are more perceptive comments from Richard Brody at the New Yorker.

1 - David Thomson, "The New Biographical Dictionary of Film", LONDON (Little Brown), 2002, Fourth Edition, p.843.