The Messiah

***1/2 out of ****

The perfect man, with simple quiet truths.

          Before viewing this film, I had certainly beheld many different cinematic faces of Christ, all of which varied in nature and personality. I had seen traditional a Christ, a laughing Christ, a somber Christ, Christ updated into modern day, Christ updated into a futuristic age, a counterfeit Christ, Christ as a clown, Christ as a revolutionary, Christ as a sacrificial lamb, and Christ attempting to successfully juggle his humanity with his divinity. But as I watched Roberto Rossellini’s The Messiah, a serious insight occurred to me: I had never seen Christ as a carpenter, even though the Bible teaches that this was his trade. This film made me keenly aware of his profession for the first time: Here is Christ who is happy to sit at the beach on a hot, dry day and work diligently on a boat while teaching his disciples his familiar parables. After watching so many complex takes on the Son of God, this uncomplicated but completely original variation was so simple and so profound that I smiled ear to ear, and my day’s entire perspective leapt up a few degrees brighter.

          Roberto Rossellini is, of course, the creator of neorealism, an Italian-based genre which specializes in creating films as close to real life as possible, without any cinematic tricks or gimmicks. The Messiah was his last film, made in 1975 (he died in 1977), and it is also one of his best. It carries on the neorealist tradition that he made famous with films like Open City. Like that film, this is a sincere, heartfelt approach to very serious subject matter. There is no standout performance, no tricky camera angles, no swelling music. The power is in the reality of the characters and situations, and we observe them as extras in the background, not as a movie-goers.

          Rossellini’s approach to Christ is unique and completely refreshing. The Messiah begins hundreds of years before his birth, as the Israelites move into the Promised Land and desire a king to rule over them. These scenes depict a corrupt, selfish nation that is more interested in being like other nations than actually serving God and doing good, and Rossellini uses these moments to set up his own arguments about Christ. Like Pier Paolo Pasolini, Rossellini was an atheist, not so much interested in making a devoutly Christian film as he was presenting Christ as the ultimate example of the perfect man—the man who recognizes the need to do total goodness in a world of corruption. At one point, the Virgin Mary tells a child, “The kingdom of heaven is here, but people have forgotten, because they have forgotten how to do good.” For Rossellini, this understanding is the light that Christ is bringing to the world, and his own self-concept that he is the perfect man, living by example for others to see, is what makes him the Messiah.

          After the prologue and a few brief traditional scenes concerning Christ’s infancy and childhood, Christ the man is introduced as he watches John the Baptist crying in the desert for all to repent. His baptism by John is a neorealistic masterpiece, handled in one, full-shot take. There are no dramatic pauses, no glowing light from heaven, no Godly voice speaking above the clouds; Christ gets in line to be baptized, he and John exchange a few words, Jesus is baptized, he leaves, and John baptizes the next in line. All emotion and relevance are in their words and their facial expressions, and Rossellini keeps it that simple.

          The simplicity of the baptism is the example that the rest of the film will follow. Rossellini downplays the divinity and miracles of Christ and emphasizes his teachings. Only two miracles are seen, and they are so underplayed that they barely come across as miracles at all. Jesus is presented as not interested in gathering a large following or making intensely spiritual or political statements that challenge the system. He rather seeks to be a personal, one-on-one teacher—a quiet, working class man who wants to work on his carpentry trade as he preaches his parables about love and forgiveness. In nearly every scene in which Jesus teaches, he is presented as blunt, introspective, and very human, almost always working with his hands as he teaches his small group of disciples.

          Christ is very humble here, not wanting to place too much attention on himself. In fact, he seems happier with his few disciples, teaching them quietly in the streets and in his workplace. Rather, it is the Pharisees and Christ's own followers who seem obsessed with giving his person and ministry a large, vocal profile. As Jesus quietly teaches, the Pharisees begin screaming at him, questioning his teachings. It is they who draw a crowd and make people notice, not Christ himself. When John the Baptist sends his messengers to inquire whether or not Christ is the Messiah, it is a disciple, not Christ, who cries out loudly, “Tell John that the blind see and the lame walk!” Jesus quietly rebukes the disciple, and tells John’s follower, “Tell him that the poor have good news preached to them.” Rossellini also gives the disciples many of Christ’s more politically-charged teachings, perhaps indicating that they gave him credit for their own zealous philosophies when they wrote the gospels.

          Not that Rossellini is by any means side-stepping traditional views of Christ’s divinity. Jesus still addresses God as “Father,” and he still proclaims that he is the only way to reach God. He is still crucified and resurrected, though those scenes are vastly underplayed. The key difference here is that Rossellini argues that Christ’s message was one of finding truth and peace in the common, everyday things of life. He came to live by quiet example, to set people free from their sin by teaching them how to appreciate what they have, and how to live a good, righteous life by treating others with kindness and fairness. The world, Rossellini argues, needs a perfect man to demonstrate how to be led away from selfishness and corruption just as much as they need a great teacher and a redeemer. His Christ manages to be all three.

          As long as Rossellini stays on this path, his film is flawless. There are a few moments that tend to drag, namely Christ's childhood and trial, which focus on the more traditional aspects of Christ’s life without applying them to the central thesis. These scenes offer nothing new, and they aren’t anything that we have seen before, or better. That said, most of The Messiah is a masterful work. It is refreshing after viewing so many complicated approaches to the nature of Christ and his teachings to see a film that handles his ministry with such simplicity. Could Christ have been laid-back, just one of the guys, AND God made flesh? By reimaging the nature of his message, Rossellini argues that he could.

Click here to to learn about the many cinematic faces of Christ.

Cast:
Pier Maria Rossi: Jesus Christ
Carlos Carvalho De Carvalho
Jean Martin
Fausto Di Bella

Directed by Roberto Rossellini. Written by Rossellini and Silvia D'Amico Bendico. No M.P.A.A. rating, but fine for kids. Running time: 145 minutes. Original year of release: 1976. Italian with English subtitles.

Questions? Comments? E-mail me: danel_the_tinman@hotmail.com