No spoilers...how CAN there be? Everybody knows what happens...but just in case....
So beautifully shot, so over the top (which I guess was the point,)...but after a while you just can't take the violence any more. It becomes meaningless. You just wait for it to be over...because you know exactly what is going to happen. There is no last minute reprieve, Pontias doesn't change his mind, it's all there in excruciating detail that can only be filmed by a fundamentalist Catholic.
I knew it was going to be a brutal film and so I brought Wulfie along with me. One of the perks of employee screenings. I could never get away with that in a public screening. I was grateful to have him. Something warm and comfortable on my lap, snuggled in to me, purring away...helped ease much of the visceral shock.
The scourging scene is the worst. You flinch every time...and when they change instruments you feel like screaming...and yet you have to watch. When they flip him over and proceed to whale on the front side of his body you can only gape...how could someone survive that? Why is he still CONSCIOUS?! I had to fight back the tears and bite back the bile.
Everything past that point in terms of pain was meaningless to me. Beat him all you want, shove that crown on a little harder...it can't be anything to what he just went through. Even carrying the cross (which went on forever,) I just couldn't swallow that he could pick that thing up, let alone drag it all the way there.
And so...much...blood. We are going to have people leaving the theater in droves.
Don't take your children to see this film. (Crazy people calling the theater wondering if a 10 year old girl could handle it. DUH, NO!!! *I* could barely handle it!!!)
The choice to shoot the entire thing in Aramic and Latin and Hebrew was so efffective. Reading the subtitles involves you so much more...drawing you that much closer into the story. Plus, I confess it was interesting finding out just how much latin I actually could understand. Thanks Spanish!
Near the end as they are bringing down his blood crusted body into the waiting arms of his mother I murmured, "Oh please...please let there be something with the resurrection." And there was...but it was so short...after all that we had just witnessed, I felt...empty.
( It did make me grateful for the perspective that I grew up with...the LDS faithful tend to put more emphasis on the miracle of the resurrection...the overcoming of death...than the man hanging on a cross. Talk about morbid! The whole film centers on his suffering...and frankly I didn't see a lot of glory in that.
But it made me reflect on the Savior of the world... el hijo de los hombres, mi salvador, el redentor del mundo...it made me so humbled...so cowed and grateful. While I don't necessarily buy all of Mel Gibson's version of events...it made me think on who *I* think the Savior is.
Do I recommend the movie? Absolutely. Without hesitation. (providing you are well over 17.) More than once? That's just sick.