Director / writer: Pier Paolo Pasolini
Photography: Tonino Delli Colli
Music: Bach, Mozart, Luis Bacalov, Blind Willie Johnson
Editor: Nino Baragli
Cast: Enrique Irazoqui, Margherita Caruso, Susanna Pasolini, Marcello Morante, Mario Socrate, Settimio Di Porto, Otello Sestili, Rossana Di Rocco
The first time I saw director and screenwriter Pier Paolo Pasolini's treatment of the Jesus story was not long after I saw The Last Temptation of Christ. I thought if one art film director (Martin Scorsese) can do it, so can another. But St. Matthew was too slow for me, too ponderous and queasily pious. I didn't think much of it. Another look, just a few years back, went much better. I was impressed with the tone and pacing, and it felt immersive—didn't seem too long. By then, long after Pasolini's strange death, a recut, colorized, and much shorter version had become available, but I stuck with the original. This third time I thought more seriously about looking at the recut for comparison purposes, but alas that's the one they're charging money for and I remain deeply suspicious of it. I suspect the miracles and piety made the cut, but perhaps not so much the wanton ranting (by Jesus, with lines straight from the Bible) and all the general anti-business rabble-rousing.
The third time was not exactly the charm. Once again it seemed too slow and I was often bored and easily distracted (why do the armor chest plates of the Roman soldiers have defined abdominals? how did Mary age 50 years or more in 33 years?). Maybe my fidgety watch had as much to do with Italian neorealism or a mediocre print or incoming email as the subject at hand. Last Temptation gave me a way in to the Jesus story for the first time, although I admit it still doesn't make much sense to me. My favorite part is when he is praying in Gethsemane and obviously afraid to die the way he's going to die. He feels most human to me in that moment. Pasolini's Jesus—the Book of Matthew's Jesus—is more calculating and pro forma at Gethsemane, as he is with most of his other activities, such as riding into Jerusalem on a donkey. Enrique Irazoqui, a nonprofessional actor, does a creditable job as the big-talking warrior type of Jesus, with an urgent message on a mission of his father's.
The first time I saw director and screenwriter Pier Paolo Pasolini's treatment of the Jesus story was not long after I saw The Last Temptation of Christ. I thought if one art film director (Martin Scorsese) can do it, so can another. But St. Matthew was too slow for me, too ponderous and queasily pious. I didn't think much of it. Another look, just a few years back, went much better. I was impressed with the tone and pacing, and it felt immersive—didn't seem too long. By then, long after Pasolini's strange death, a recut, colorized, and much shorter version had become available, but I stuck with the original. This third time I thought more seriously about looking at the recut for comparison purposes, but alas that's the one they're charging money for and I remain deeply suspicious of it. I suspect the miracles and piety made the cut, but perhaps not so much the wanton ranting (by Jesus, with lines straight from the Bible) and all the general anti-business rabble-rousing.
The third time was not exactly the charm. Once again it seemed too slow and I was often bored and easily distracted (why do the armor chest plates of the Roman soldiers have defined abdominals? how did Mary age 50 years or more in 33 years?). Maybe my fidgety watch had as much to do with Italian neorealism or a mediocre print or incoming email as the subject at hand. Last Temptation gave me a way in to the Jesus story for the first time, although I admit it still doesn't make much sense to me. My favorite part is when he is praying in Gethsemane and obviously afraid to die the way he's going to die. He feels most human to me in that moment. Pasolini's Jesus—the Book of Matthew's Jesus—is more calculating and pro forma at Gethsemane, as he is with most of his other activities, such as riding into Jerusalem on a donkey. Enrique Irazoqui, a nonprofessional actor, does a creditable job as the big-talking warrior type of Jesus, with an urgent message on a mission of his father's.
This manly strutting Jesus is fair enough—it's rooted in the Bible and likely one reason the movie seems to be acceptable to Christians, unlike Last Temptation. Again, I suspect they prefer it in the version that is shorter and in color at this point (and I might too, just for the sake of the 40 minutes). Pasolini stuck close to the literal words of the Matthew gospel, including all of Jesus' dialogue. And overall it's a pretty good story, which holds up even in the garb of 20th-century neorealism. In fact, neorealism suits it well. This Jesus is 100% for the poor and against the rich. His contempt for the rich is actually vastly satisfying and was one of my favorite parts this time around.
Being faithful to the gospel, the picture is also faithful to all the contradictions that continually flummox me about Jesus and his story and Christianity. For example, Jesus is seen at one point here counseling someone to obey the Ten Commandments, saying specifically "honor your father and mother." Later, however, one of the disciples approaches him for some time off. "Lord, give me leave to go home and bury my father." Like a boss, Jesus comes back, "Follow me, and leave the dead to bury the dead." Even later, he sees his mother Mary at one of his rallies and ducks her, which hurts her feelings. Obviously, I'm not understanding what is intended by "honor."
A lot of this movie is scenes of Jesus raving as he and the disciples are walking around. He has a lot of surprisingly extreme ideas. "If your hand or foot causes you to sin, cut it off and cast it away from you. Better to enter into life crippled or lame than to have hands and feet when you are cast into eternal fire." Pretty harsh, Jesus!
We are almost entirely spared the kind of torture scenes Mel Gibson went for in The Passion of the Christ. The Gethsemane scene seems watered down to me. And the picture takes the traditional view of Judas as abjectly craven and weak. This is another place where my view of the Jesus story has been colored by Last Temptation. It actually makes more sense to me that Judas is the strongest of the disciples and his betrayal more part of Jesus' own plan. We have seen here (and elsewhere) that Jesus was calculating about fulfilling prophecies.
Things really get weird at the end of The Gospel According to St. Matthew, but that's all me, not Pasolini, who sticks to the plan of staying close to the Bible story. Communion is just one of the weirdest rituals I know. I have never been easy with all the symbolic cannibalism and vampirism. And then those haunting words from the cross: "My God, why have you forsaken me?" What a thing to say! What does it mean?
It probably counts as a strength of Pasolini's picture that it raises many of the issues I have with Christianity at large. This Jesus looks to me like something of a nut, and not a kindly one, but I like the fastidious grounding in the Bible. And I like Jesus' attitude about the class system and its rewards. He's a brave character too, flying in the face of authority, but it often feels like the bravery of the reckless and unbalanced. I don't feel the drama of the Jesus story here nearly as vividly as I did in Last Temptation, but it works well enough for me as neorealist cinema, in line with, say, Rossellini's 1940s war trilogy, with the outdoor locations, amateur players, and especially the raw look and feel. Frankly, as far as Pasolini goes, I like anything he did better than his last picture, 1975's Salo, or the 120 Days of Sodom, which is among the most unpleasant things I've ever seen.
Being faithful to the gospel, the picture is also faithful to all the contradictions that continually flummox me about Jesus and his story and Christianity. For example, Jesus is seen at one point here counseling someone to obey the Ten Commandments, saying specifically "honor your father and mother." Later, however, one of the disciples approaches him for some time off. "Lord, give me leave to go home and bury my father." Like a boss, Jesus comes back, "Follow me, and leave the dead to bury the dead." Even later, he sees his mother Mary at one of his rallies and ducks her, which hurts her feelings. Obviously, I'm not understanding what is intended by "honor."
A lot of this movie is scenes of Jesus raving as he and the disciples are walking around. He has a lot of surprisingly extreme ideas. "If your hand or foot causes you to sin, cut it off and cast it away from you. Better to enter into life crippled or lame than to have hands and feet when you are cast into eternal fire." Pretty harsh, Jesus!
We are almost entirely spared the kind of torture scenes Mel Gibson went for in The Passion of the Christ. The Gethsemane scene seems watered down to me. And the picture takes the traditional view of Judas as abjectly craven and weak. This is another place where my view of the Jesus story has been colored by Last Temptation. It actually makes more sense to me that Judas is the strongest of the disciples and his betrayal more part of Jesus' own plan. We have seen here (and elsewhere) that Jesus was calculating about fulfilling prophecies.
Things really get weird at the end of The Gospel According to St. Matthew, but that's all me, not Pasolini, who sticks to the plan of staying close to the Bible story. Communion is just one of the weirdest rituals I know. I have never been easy with all the symbolic cannibalism and vampirism. And then those haunting words from the cross: "My God, why have you forsaken me?" What a thing to say! What does it mean?
It probably counts as a strength of Pasolini's picture that it raises many of the issues I have with Christianity at large. This Jesus looks to me like something of a nut, and not a kindly one, but I like the fastidious grounding in the Bible. And I like Jesus' attitude about the class system and its rewards. He's a brave character too, flying in the face of authority, but it often feels like the bravery of the reckless and unbalanced. I don't feel the drama of the Jesus story here nearly as vividly as I did in Last Temptation, but it works well enough for me as neorealist cinema, in line with, say, Rossellini's 1940s war trilogy, with the outdoor locations, amateur players, and especially the raw look and feel. Frankly, as far as Pasolini goes, I like anything he did better than his last picture, 1975's Salo, or the 120 Days of Sodom, which is among the most unpleasant things I've ever seen.
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