St. Paul wrote: “Finally, brothers, whatever is true, whatever is noble, whatever is right, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is admirable—if anything is excellent or praiseworthy— think about such things (Phil. 4:8).”

Many Christians read this passage and focus on the pure & lovely.  But notice that the first word Paul uses is TRUE.  Think on the truth.  Not every truth is delightful to behold.  According to the pure & lovely standard, narrowly understood, one might need to exclude important scriptures such as the beheading of Goliath, the global destruction of the flood, the slaughter of the priests of Baal on Mt. Carmel, or the torture and murder of Jesus.  Those are horrifying scenes indeed.  I know of people who have been deeply upset to learn of such excessive violence in Holy Scripture.  In some cases, their very faith was shaken.  The book of Ecclesiastes often takes fire for being, in the eyes of some, a hopeless text.  The Gospels are blamed for inciting hatred against the Jews.  The epistles of St. Paul have several rather harsh blasts of holy anger.  My point is that the Bible itself contains much distasteful content.  It is, at times, disturbing, unsettling, and infuriating.

Other important works of literature may not pass the pure & lovely test either, including the plays of Shakespeare (Macbeth, Hamlet, Titus Andronicus), Homer’s Odyssey, the novels of Nathaniel Hawthorne, Graham Greene, and John Steinbeck to name only a few.

Some Christians will disagree with me vehemently, but I think the latest cinematic Batman episode, The Dark Knight, written and directed by Chris Nolan, is a work of genius.  Yes, it is dark.  Yes, parts of it are hard to watch.  But it tells the truth, at least part of it.  An important part.

I’m no expert on the work of Spanish mystic, St. John of the Cross, but I am familiar with his great work entitled “Dark Night of the Soul.”  That phrase has come to refer to those times in the life of a person when God seems particularly distant, when the soul is alone with his corruption.  That’s what this movie is about.  The Joker is the archetypal man.

Much of contemporary culture is infused with a deadly optimism about human nature.  And this is a demonic lie which blinds people to the depth of their need for someone more than a super-hero, a true white and noble Knight to rescue them.

Mutilation.  Disfigurement.  Anarchy.  Random violence.  Betrayal.  It’s no Frank Capra flick.  Chris Nolan did not make a “feel good” picture.  But he did make a great movie that tells the important truth of mankind’s deep inbred narcissism.  Without external restraints, we are worse than savages.  Apart from restoration in Christ, all people are disfigurements.  Deep beneath the veneer of civility, all human beings are unfunny clowns who appear to thrive on mayhem.  At one point, the Joker says, “Madness is like gravity.  All people need is a little push.”

One extremely useful insight the film conveys is the utter meaninglessness of evil.  We don’t want to believe that.  We constantly want to explain away our bad behavior, to make excuses, to justify ourselves.  I steal because I’m poor.  I hate because I’m ignorant.  I kill because I’m a victim.  Ultimately, that is just baloney.  We do those things because we are bad.  That’s all.  Sinners sin because they are sinful.

The Joker says, “Do I really look like a man with a plan, Harvey? I don’t have a plan. The mob has plans, the cops have plans. You know what I am, Harvey? I’m a dog chasing cars. I wouldn’t know what to do if I caught one. I just *do* things.”

Alfred, Batman’s butler, gets it.  He says, “Some men aren’t looking for anything logical. They can’t be bought, bullied, reasoned or negotiated with. Some men just want to watch the world burn.”

In the dark night of the soul, when God is absent, there is no meaning, no purpose, no direction.  Even an evil direction would be more bearable than having none whatsoever.  Of course, Chris Nolan’s masterpiece knows nothing of the dawn, the Morning Star (Rev. 22:16).  But if you can sit through the 2 1/2 hours of “Dark Knight” and not exit craving the sunshine, you are made of cement.

The untimely death of actor Heath Ledger several months ago, makes his performance particularly bitter to watch.  What a loss.  His Joker strikes me as one of the most amazing on-screen performances I’ve ever seen.  Of course, it goes a bit over-the-top.  It has to.  Otherwise most of us would scarcely notice.  As Flannery O’Connor once said, “you have to make your vision apparant by shock, to the hard of hearing, you must shout.  And for the almost blind, you draw large and startling figures.”

In my judgment, this is not a movie about Batman.  It’s about the Joker.  Which is to say that it’s about me.  The Joker is a mirror, a truth-teller of unpretty realities.

At the moment of this writing, the television news is reporting the sorrowful death of 28-year-old Oscar nominated actor, Heath Ledger. The speculation is that it may have been suicide or possibly an accidental drug overdose. While the circumstances are unclear at this point, what is clear is that he is dead. Many would say that Ledger had a charmed life. Glamorous good looks, youth, growing success, fortune, sex appeal and the adoration of many. All people are living on a time limit and the most envied status and possessions cannot stave off the final enemy which is death. I have no knowledge of Heath Ledger’s spiritual wellbeing. But the Christian Church confesses that all men, women and children are lost and helpless, alienated from our Creator by our rebellious hearts. We likewise confess that there is One man, Jesus Christ, eternally begotten of the Father, God-in-the-flesh, who has made right again all that was wrong. He has become the scapegoat for all people so that those who are baptized into His name, believing His promises, will inherit abundant everlasting life.

I am sorry to hear about Ledger’s death. I suppose I was a fan. I am certainly sympathetic for those he leaves behind. Yet this is a motivation and reminder for all who know the truth to be vessels of salvation for the world. Jesus said, As long as it is day, we must do the work of him who sent me. Night is coming, when no one can work. (John 9:4)

Eastern Promises is the latest film directed by David Cronenberg and stars Viggo Mortensen, Naomi Watts, and Armin Mueller-Stahl.

Cronenberg has a bizarre repertoire of films with a flair for the grotesque. Not only are his movies often graphically violent, but they serve as veritable meditations on the effects of violence, both emotionally and bodily. And in that sense, I hate to say, I think he may have a spark of genius.

Personally, I do not have a high opinion of most of his work. His most recent two films, Eastern Promises and A History of Violence, however, do deserve a bit of attention. It would surprise me very much, in fact, if Eastern Promises does not earn an Oscar nomination for Best Picture. Viggo Mortensen does a truly brilliant job portraying the ultimate thug as part of the Russia mafia in London. He captures the accent, look and mannerisms masterfully.

Director Cronenberg began his career making low-budget horror films specializing in yuck. E.P. is not a horror film by strict definitions, but is very similar thematically. And there is no shortage of yuck. Two fundamental themes for the horror genre are transformation and identity. Many literary forms ask the question “who am I?” but horror asks “what am I?” and “what am I becoming?”, with typically unhappy answers.

The definition of a monster is a being who should not exist but does, or a being that cannot be classified. For instance, Frankenstein’s monster is a being who should not exist but does. He is the fabrication of a scientist who plays God and attempts to manufacture new life out of old body parts. And Darth Vader is also a monster because we don’t know what he is. He’s hard to classify. Is he man or machine?

So horror asks, “what is it?” Dead or alive? Man or machine? Male or female? Plant or animal? Earthly or extraterrestrial? Sane or insane? Healthy or sick? Clean or unlcean? Think of the horror monsters you’ve seen and you’ll find that these are the questions most often at play. The significant thing is that they urge us to ponder what it means to be a human. When does a being cross the line of being non-human to human or vice-versa? Etc. With today’s bio-ethical dilemmas and the advances of research in genetics, artificial intelligence, robotics, cloning, chimeras, etc., you will see more and more, I predict, horror stories asking such questions.

In what sense does Eastern Promises handle these basic horror themes?  It’s not a horror movie, per se.  But it does chillingly illustrate the dehumanizing effects of violence.  Though I can’t say that I recommend it, here is what I value in this film. It assumes and teaches that violence changes human character. Not being the object of violence, necessarily, but the subject.

My pastor, Rev. David Petersen, posed a fascinating question in Bible class last Sunday, a question that he found in the work of Peter Kreeft, I believe. Suppose your child were a prisoner in a Nazi concentration camp. Now suppose, your child were approached by the sadist Dr. Josef Mengele who proposes to spare your son or daughter if he or she will assist him in his experiments. So the choice is this: Assist Mengele in torturing others or be tortured by him. Now how would you want your child to choose?

Many would say that since they don’t want their child to be harmed, they’d prefer him to assist the doctor and be spared the torture themselves. But what is truly more damaging, to be tortured or to torture?  I agree with Pastor Petersen’s point that to do violence to another person damages the doer in more deep and lasting ways.

In his own way, I think Cronenberg makes this point. The monsters in this world are not those who’ve been damaged externally but those who do the damaging. They became spiritual freaks, if you will, disfigured on the inside.

That is the headline from Reuters earlier this week. Calling for a boycott of the recent film based on the controversial trilogy, His Dark Materials, by Philip Pullman, the Vatican statement elaborates: “when man tries to eliminate God from his horizon, everything is reduced, made sad, cold and inhumane”. Also according to Reuters, the Vatican paper called The Golden Compass, “the most anti-Christmas film possible.”

The Golden Compass is indeed a reason for concern, primarily because of the subsequent two volumes of the trilogy it is associated with. The current movie version of Compass is only mediocre as a movie and for the most part, avoids the most sticky wicky points.

How should Christians respond? First, I agree with the Vatican’s concerns, but I believe it is important to remain cool-headed. Is it truly the most anti-Christmas film possible? Such exaggerated assertions suggest that the reviewer either didn’t really see the film or is prone to overreaction. In both cases, our cause is harmed.

One of the biggest flaws in Pullman’s technique is his extremism. Even some people who agree with his views feel he is an impediment because he overstates his case. I hope the church does not fall into the same approach. Not every attack on the Faith requires the same degree of response. Otherwise, every attack will be the most anti-Christmas film possible. And if every attack is the most anti-Christmas film possible (to use the phrase from the Vatican), then none of them are. Not everything can be the “most possible.” Do you see?

So if next year, another film is produced that undermines Christianity but does so in a more direct and sophisticated way, how will we respond if we’ve already labeled Compass as the worst possible? If it’s the worst, then all others must not be as bad.

I am in no way defending the militant atheism of Philip Pullman. I am only saying that our responses to our critics ought to be in proportion to the quality of the threat.

Originally posted at The Burr in the Burgh.

On it’s opening night, The Golden Compass, brought in just over $9 million. In comparison, the last Harry Potter movie raked in over $100 million it’s first day. $26 million was the take for TGC this whole weekend. Costing almost $200 million to produce, this is a huge disappointment for New Line Cinema.

Why the paltry profits? Is it because Bill Donohue of the Catholic League called for a boycott? Unlikely, since the U.S. Conference of Catholic Bishops gave the film a thumbs up and considering that, in contrast, the Da Vinci Code movie was a whopping success.

I don’t know the answer to why the film has opened so poorly. But I’ll venture a guess. Uh, it’s not any good. That’s right. I saw it on Sunday and it’s lame.

Amazingly, movie critics are predominantly booing the film for all the right reasons. It fails as a piece of artwork. It fails as an entertainment. I’ve even seen a handful of critics putting it in their year-end list of the worst movies of 2007. Others simply say it’s “fairly terrible.”

For those who are interested in a more thorough report, you can access a free article I wrote critiquing the book here, published by Concordia Publishing House. Or you can listen to me talk about it here.

For my money, the only good part of the movie is the character Iorek Byrneson, a marvelous armored talking polar bear. Personally, I adore polar bears. If you ever want to get my attention, just show a picture of a polar bear and I’m yours. There was a fairly stunning polar bear fight scene. And like you, I can never get too many polar bear fights.