"Christian" Art: Show versus Tell

There's been a flurry of "Christian" movies in the last year, but most aren't good. Or, at least, they aren't good art. My opinion is certainly not unique, even amongst other Christians, which begs an interesting question: how come most explicitly "Christian" art is so bad? And what makes art "Christian"?

Let's take the first question first; what Christians often miss is that art communicates through two means: form and content. Something might be good art in form- the way the message comes across- but may proffer a terrible message (content). In cinematic fashion, a great example of this might be No Country For Old Men, where the acting and cinematogrophy are first class, but the ultimate message is nihilistic. Alternatively, a message may put forth a good message, but be terrible artistically. Most "Christian" movies in the past year fall in this category. Allow me to elaborate.

A movie currently making the rounds in "evangelical Christian" circles is Courageous. The movie depicts four fathers-all police officers- on their journey to parent and how their faith informs such a journey. Largely, the movie depicts a good message; namely, that it's good to be a good father and that it's hard and that it's rewarding and that it's ultimately powered by God. Some of my problems are with content: there is a moralistic tinge to this kind of message. In other words, if we don't do something by our own sheer moral effort, it won't get done. Ironically, this subtly contravenes the Christian message. Even still, most of my problems with the movie aren't necessarily with its moralism.

My problems with the movie is that it's bad art. Sure, "Christian" movies have come a long way in certain respects. The acting is better. The camera work is better. And yet....and yet.....it's still bad art, and there's a simple reason for this. The movie doesn't know how to get it's message across in anything but preachy aspects of dialogue. The most profound moments in the film are when someone is talking to someone else about what they need to do or believe. In other words, the only reason the movie exists is for me to watch other people talking to each other. The final scene in the movie even depicts a guy preaching a message from a pulpit. It's all tell, and no show. Art is thus limited with this kind of approach.

Similar critiques are leveled against a different kind of "Christian" film: Blue Like Jazz (great critiques of the film's preachiness can be found here and here). Despite the fact that this film attempts to be edgy and a different kind of Christian film, the reviewers above can't help but notice that the movie's message is attempted primarily through drab dialogue.

But what's the alternative? Is there any way to promote the content of the Christian message through a vehicle that waxes more artistic? Yes. I submit to you The Tree of Life, a Terrence Malick film that has nearly no meaningful dialogue. The actors-Brad Pitt and Jessica Chastain- no doubt carry some of the strength in artistry. But ultimately, the film promotes aspects of the Christian message without ever saying so in dialogue.

The essence of the film is a 20th century Job story where a father and mother lose their middle child and the father loses his job. And yet, the film almost never tells you that those events are happening. You have to watch it happen through innuendo, through visual representation, through the absence of what isn't there in series after series of visual vignettes. Interspersed between larger groupings of vignettes are barely audible prayers addressed to God: various forms of 'whys?' and 'how longs?'.

Furthermore, the brilliance of the film rests on its reliance of the visual as it overlays the Biblical message of Job. The film starts with a biblical quote, its only true message of preaching, but it sets up every visual element. The quote is from Job 38:4 and 7.

"Where were you when I laid the foundations of the earth ... when the morning stars sang together?"

There is some difficulty here, because you have to actually know the reference in Job and know the biblical story for the film to make any sense. In the quote, you know that God is speaking to Job. Job has been trying to vindicate himself before his friends the entire book, saying that he's not suffering because he is wicked. Job repeatedly demands his vindicator, God, to so grant his case before his friends. Eventually God comes on the scene and essentially says, "who am I to vindicate you? I was the one who created this whole thing. It's you who ought to worship me."

With that in mind, for about 20 minutes in the middle of the movie, the visual vignettes backtrack in time to celestial images and the fashioning and forming in deep space. It's not until about five minutes into this extended- seemingly incredible interruption- scene that you realize what's happening. Malick is showing us creation, instead of telling us about it. Malick is giving us God's answers to these barely audible prayers in visual form, and not in dialogue.

The film, understandably, is thus very difficult to follow. It's the complete opposite of most "Christian" films, because having no dialogue means the message is a little harder to discern. The audience's understanding of Malick's message is thus tentative, and even still the artistry of the film definitively supports the idea that God doesn't owe us anything, and yet he still redeems us (Job 19: "I know my Redeemer lives.") It's the Job message. The Christian message. Not through dialogue but through a powerful artistic form.

That gets us to the second question we asked at the beginning: what makes art "Christian"? I think The Tree of Life, despite not being explicitly "Christian" art, is still good Christian art. Are there other movies, for example, that can fit this description? Perhaps. Harry Potter and The Hunger Games are certainly not explicitly or implicitly about the Christian message, but there's a reason the motifs from those films are powerful. Harry takes the judgment of Voldemort due him and dies for everyone, and is brought back to life. Katniss takes the place of her little sister in what seems certain death.

Did you catch that? The reason those motifs are so powerful is attributed to what theologians have called "substitutionary atonement" for centuries. Jesus takes our place on the cross and the penalty that was due us-he is our substitute- and gives us his righteousness in place of that, if only we'd believe in Him. There, right there in not-Christian movies, is the concept of a Christian idea being played out. It's not being told to us, it's being shown. If only "Christian" movies could learn this lesson.

That leaves me with only one obvious conclusion from all these premises: in Christian art, we need more show, and a little less tell.

What Harry Potter Teaches Us About Heaven

What was your emotional reaction upon the completion of the world's largest selling movie franchise in history?

There's a universal human phenomenon out there: we love a good story. It is the story that communicates the depths of human experience to us. It makes us, as Chesterton so ably points out in Orthodoxy, feel like normal people in an extraordinary world. There's interesting literary analysis out there as to why Harry Potter is one of the best of stories, and I wholeheartedly recommend it.

But this isn't that blog post. Lots of people have analyzed the sublime content that makes up the Harry Potter narrative. I want to discuss something more simple than that. It's this: when big things that enrapture us end, we feel a little disappointed that it's over.

Admit it. When you finished reading The Deathly Hallows, whenever that may have been, you were a little sad. You enjoyed the journey. You couldn't sleep or eat those last 300 pages. You were a part of the story as if you were there. And because your whole world revolved around these characters for a few days (I know of no one who read The Deathly Hallows over a period of weeks), the bottom dropped out on you, and you were somber for a few days. Don't get me wrong: you were thrilled Harry vanquished the evil foe. But you were enthralled when you were reading it. When the reading stopped, so seemingly did your life for a second.

Then the movies came out, closely following behind the release of the final few books. And the movies were good too. And now you've seen the final film. And now there's nothing left. Now there's nothing left to look forward to. It's all over. Your world is no longer intertwined with Harry's.

I think it's this univeral human fiction which has given rise to so much fan fiction; people never want the story to end so they continue to write more of the story.

Isn't this interesting? It's like we're designed for an amazing story but an earthly consummation of the story seems less fulfilling. But what if there were a consummation that made the entire journey worth it, and the goodness never ended? What if we felt a part of the entire story and had a stake in its ending? What if, could it possibly be, the ending was better than the journey? Would we have any language that could possibly come close to describing such a thing?

Then I saw “a new heaven and a new earth,” for the first heaven and the first earth had passed away, and there was no longer any sea. I saw the Holy City, the new Jerusalem, coming down out of heaven from God, prepared as a bride beautifully dressed for her husband. And I heard a loud voice from the throne saying, “Look! God’s dwelling place is now among the people, and he will dwell with them. They will be his people, and God himself will be with them and be their God. ‘He will wipe every tear from their eyes. There will be no more death’ or mourning or crying or pain, for the old order of things has passed away.”

 He who was seated on the throne said, “I am making everything new!” Then he said, “Write this down, for these words are trustworthy and true.”

 He said to me: “It is done. I am the Alpha and the Omega, the Beginning and the End. To the thirsty I will give water without cost from the spring of the water of life. Those who are victorious will inherit all this, and I will be their God and they will be my children.

Revelation 21:1-7, NIV