The evocative employment of Tchaikovsky’s Swan Lake was merely one of the reasons why Black Swan emerged as the best movie of 2010, but director Darren Aronofsky and company were hardly the only filmmakers last year who turned to the 19th-century Russian composer to service their motion picture. Strains from the classic ballet feature prominently in one of the climactic scenes in Of Gods and Men, and its use functions as an emotional release for both the film’s anxious protagonists and its equally worried viewers.
Loosely based on a true story, this thoughtful drama centers on a group of French monks who have devoted themselves to living peacefully among a Muslim community in Algeria during the 1990s. But when Islamic terrorists bring violence to the area, these Christians are forced to decide whether to flee to France — and safety — or remain with the needy Muslim villagers and possibly forfeit their own lives. At least two of the men — Christian, the leader (Lambert Wilson), and Luc, the doctor (the great French actor Michael Lonsdale) — believe they must stay, but others aren’t so sure.
The early passages could use some tightening, since the bulk of the complexity emerges during the second half. Reminiscent of the 1945 Gregory Peck drama The Keys of the Kingdom, which found a devout man of the cloth struggling with his own human failings while holding steadfast to his faith in a foreign land, this takes it a step further by examining the ease with which different cultures and different religions can peacefully coexist (importantly, the monks never try to convert the villagers) as long as politics, proselytism and power plays are kept out of the picture. Resolutely refusing to be misinterpreted as an anti-Muslim screed (Christian even has a monologue in which he insists on separating the terrorists from the innocent civilians), the movie instead warns against rash judgments, harmful hate mongering and ugly stereotyping — a film ultimately as much about Rush Limbaugh and his ilk as it is about Osama bin Laden and his.
This article appears in Apr 26 – May 2, 2011.
Mr. Brunson,
You know film, and I regularly look forward to reading your reviews. But the obligatory, ham-fisted political swipes are more than a little tiresome.
I have no brief for Rush Limbaugh, but to suggest that whatever wrongs he’s done are comparable to those of Osama bin Laden is just morally obtuse. Insensitivity, bad taste, and thinly veiled bigotry are not the same things as orchestrating mass murder.
If the film truly “warns against rash judgments, harmful hate mongering and ugly stereotyping,” then maybe you’d benefit from a second viewing.
Hi, Cato. Thanks for taking the time to write. You misinterpret my comparison, however. I’m not saying that Rush and Osama are two sides of the same coin. What I’m saying is that while the film addresses the evils of the likes of Osama (with its depiction of Islamic terrorists and their murderous actions), it also addresses the wrongs of men like Rush (as demonstrated in Christian’s monologue of how it’s important for the rest of the world to realize that there is a difference between the region’s religious fanatics and its peaceful Muslims, a fact that needs to be reiterated time and again because of the Western world’s tendency to lump everything in one undesirable basket). I believe my contrast is a bit more clear in the CLog version of the review — this one is lifted from the print edition (which had been edited for space), but I will correct this one now. In short, I wasn’t giving the two men equal weight in their actions, but merely to state that the picture takes note of both their shortcomings as men tolerant of others.