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The Judas Project
The Judas Project is ninety minutes of complete incompetence - a film completely devoid of talent, inspiration, or originality. If Pier Pasolini's The Gospel According to St. Matthew proves that films about Christ can produce some of the greatest movies ever made, The Judas Project proves that they can also produce some of the worst. I normally consider cheap-shot statements to be below the dignity of a serious film critic, but I can say that this is a film to be avoided the same way that the plague should be avoided. I can't think of a single reason why anyone would want to see it, or should have to. Anyone who claims to have any grounds to take it seriously is, frankly, wrong, and you should never ask them their opinion of any movie, ever again. Where do I start? Looking over my notes, I feel like an investigative reporter staring at the world’s worst train wreck. The beginning is as good as a place as any, I suppose. This is a contemporary update of the life of Christ, directed, written, produced, scored (including every last one of those cheesy, god-awful songs) by a Pentecostal preacher named James H. Barden, who never made another movie before or since. It follows the basic, familiar plot with reasonable, if obvious, accuracy. We begin with the betrayal of Judas (Ramy Zada), with soldiers being replaced with helicopters and Gethsemane with the top of a building. We are then immediately given a title card that reads, “Two years earlier.” Already as I watched, I was beginning to see the red flags flying up into the air: There is absolutely no narrative reason for the opening scene to be a flash-forward, and when the scene repeats later on in its correct sequence, it plays exactly the same. This is not the only time this happens either; Barden clearly has no grasp on narrative structure, and he continuously plays and replays the same scenes over and over again, long after the point has been made. More on that later. After this flash-forward, we indeed jump back to two years earlier, though the whole film only seems to take place within a week or so, and funny—all their haircuts and clothes remain the same throughout the movie. We are introduced to Jesse, the Son of God, who is certainly not your grandfather’s Christ. That’s because your grandfather didn’t have to be subjected to the likes of Jan and Paul Crouch and Trinity Broadcasting Network—as played by John O’Banion, this Christ looks and talks and moves just like a late night televangelist, complete with the weepy eyes, the exaggerated gestures, well-manicured looks, and the laying on hands (“Receive the spirit!” he cries, placing his hand on an unsuspecting victim’s forehead). Because this is a contemporizing of the Gospels, Christ’s words have been updated for a new generation as well. He is given some jaw-dropping lines like, “It’s good to have faith, but it’s of little use to you unless you believe and have faith,” and “Every light needs a light switch, and you will be mine.” These are the lines that I wrote down, but believe me, they get a lot worse. The result is a Christ who moves through the film like a money-swindling holy-roller whose words of wisdom sound more recycled from Kung Fu movies than reimagined from the Gospels. Considering that this film was made and funded by an Evangelical Pentecostal church, we could possibly dismiss Jesse as their personal, albeit bias, interpretation of Christ himself. Fair enough, but all of the other characters in the film act with the exact same tone and conviction. There is simply not one believable performance in the film— all the actors are too busy waving their hands around piously, speaking softly, and keeping their eyes dampened, as if keenly aware of the sappy music that constantly plays in the background (which, by my observation, is really just the same piano lick played over and over again without any variation). The writing has a lot to do with this miserable failure of a film. Along the way, Jesse picks up some disciples, including the brutish Pete (Ray Holtman) and Judas, and if Jesse’s dialogue is awful, his disciples’ lines have to be heard to be believed. Every word they speak is so contrived and obvious that I wanted to reach into the movie and shake the actors to see if they were assembled out of bits and pieces of stock characters from other movies. In particular, Judas might as well be wearing a shirt that says, “Token Villain.” As he stares into the heavens, rubs his chin, and mutters, “Oh, the things I could do with the power that Jesse has,” we realize that all he is lacking is a mustache to twirl. Now that we're on the topic of stock-characters, consider our modern-day Pharisees and Romans authorities. They watch Jesse preach his sermons on various beaches (actually, it’s the same beach, just shot from different angles), and they decide, “This man could become a world leader.” From his actions and mannerisms, I am forced to conclude that these men are from Binny Hinn’s ministry team, and they see Jesse as a vital threat to their monopoly. Actually, that’s a more thorough explanation than what we are given (and it would have made a better movie). We never quite figure out who these guys are—we only know that they were villains because they all wear dark business suits and meet in large, nearly-empty rooms, where they convene with all of the world leaders in tow, who eat from their hands. Why Jesse is a threat to them no one can say, except that it is needed for the story to develop. Sure, he can work miracles, but whenever he does so, everyone simply stands around with their mouths open. He is clearly not leading a rebellion or turning people against authority. If the original Christ was a potential political threat, this Christ is simply the talk-show topic of the week, no different from any other spiritual medium that you would see on the Sci-Fi Channel. Why would they feel like they need him on their side, and, if he refuses, to have him killed? Well, he is the Son of God, after all, a point that director Barden stresses in one of the worst scenes ever filmed. I am referring to the Transfiguration, in which Jesse reveals his true identity to his disciples: He leads his disciples up to the top of a mountain, where they witness a light show that brings to mind Highlander or Conan the Barbarian, minus the charm that allows us to forgive the painfully unconvincing special effects. As lights and lasers swirl around a radiant Jesse, a voice from heaven says, “This is my beloved Son, in whom I am well-pleased.” Jesse then smiles, and the disciples look on with their mouths open, as if they are watching the movie with us and are equally amazed at its badness. Jesse then asks the disciples who they think he is, and Pete answers, “You are the Son of God.” Jesse says, “This was not revealed to you by man, but by God.” Excuse me, but that was the voice of God? Sounded to me more like some sort of television announcer, and as the cartoonish special effects faded away, I almost excepted God to say, “And we’ll be right back with the adventures of my Son right after these messages.” Speaking of bizarre, distracting voice-overs, I promised that I would get back to Barden’s overuse of flashbacks. After Jesse’s death, the final twenty minutes of the film belong to the director’s own voice, as he sings song after song with lyrics like, “Jesse, I need you” and “He’s just a man with a band.” The camera slowly moves to all of the disciples as they weep through the funeral, and we are given flashbacks from each of their experiences with Jesse. The problem is that we have seen most of these scenes already, and Barden pointlessly replays them all again in nearly as much detail as we saw them the first time. And yes, they’re just as bad the second time around. This leads us to the biggest problem, at least story-wise, with The Judas Project. Updating the life of Christ to a contemporary setting is a very inspired idea—one that was well handled in Godspell. Christ was a radical in his time, both spiritually and politically, and certainly many clichés both in and outside of the church have been built up around his person. To set Jesus in a modern-day film and have him tackle those clichés is a poignant, powerful approach. I am reminded of the scene in Godspell when Christ mourns for New York City with the same words that he did for Jerusalem in the Gospel of Matthew. Unfortunately, The Judas Project only updates the story, not the themes. If you are familiar with the gospels, or if you have seen any other Jesus movie, or if you have ever read a Christian bumper sticker, than there will be absolutely no surprises here. Everything happens exactly the way that it happened in the gospels. Surely the film could have been bold enough to update something—anything—besides the location. Surely instead of feeding the multitude with bread and cheese, Christ could have served fries and ice cream. Surely he could have been executed with a modern method, like the electric chair or a hanging. Surely Christ could have assembled together some type of ethnic minorities among his group of disciples, instead of just a bunch of dumb white guys. Surely American’s culture would be rich for a modern-day Jesus to walk among and comment on. But no—Jesse’s adventures follow the traditional life of Jesus of a ‘T,’ without any variation. This is not a contemporary update at all, but a local church’s passion play minus the costumes. I am not against watching a film made by Fundamental Christians, but why couldn’t they think of an original, more refreshing (or at the very least, compelling) approach to their greatest hero? As a consequence of this transfer of most of the Gospel story into modern day, Christ is still crucified by the greedy, Jewish lawmakers. Sadly, out of its own, first-century historical context, this casting simply comes across as racism on James H. Barden’s part. Recently, many political/spiritual leaders have expressed their concerns regarding possible anti-Semitism in Mel Gibson’s The Passion of the Christ, but they really need not look further than The Judas Project. Here is a film with an all-white cast of male protagonists, clearly Jewish villains, and director Barden himself in a cameo as the ghost of a Confederate general, rising to heaven as one of God’s cherished saints. The Passion of the Christ as least understood that the nationality of Christ and his enemies was not the point or the reason of Christ’s death, merely a historical fact. Barden maintains the historical nationality of the villains yet transfers Christ and his disciples into all white men. This casting proves that the director has no clue of the true nature and relevance of Christ’s sacrifice; Barden instead focuses merely on the race and killed him. The result is an act of such bigotry that I’m surprised this movie wasn’t picketed, except perhaps that those who objected realized it was so incompetently made that it was no threat. There’s
plenty more in this train wreck that I could talk about. I could
linger more on the atrocious acting, or discuss the characters
that react for absolutely no reason, or the syrupy soundtrack
that tries to create emotion instead of support it, or the lingering
shots of mounted cops’ sweaty armpits. But I have dragged
this review on for far too long, writing about a movie that hardly
deserves so many words. Recently, Barden has released The
Judas Project on DVD. He claims it is to reach the world
with its spiritual message, but I speculate that it is to cash
in on the success of Gibson’s The Passion of the Christ.
Whatever the case, do yourself a favor: On my list
of Christ films, there are over a dozen movies that are better
than this one. You have absolutely no reason to watch this pointless
mishmash. In the meantime, if by some freak mishap I don’t
make it to heaven and I have the option of watching this for all
eternity or suffering through eternal flames, I’d probably
pick the latter. Cast: R.S. Entertainment presents
a film produced, written, scored, spat on, directed, and sung
by James H. Barden. Rated PG-13, for violence and brief language.
Running time: 90 minutes. Original United States theatrical release
date: Februray 19, 1993 (though made in 1990). Questions? Comments? E-mail me: danel_the_tinman@hotmail.com |
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