RANK: #15 |
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SILENCE
2016, R, 161 mins. Andrew Garfield as Father Sebastião Rodrigues / Adam Driver as Father Francisco Garrpe / Liam Neeson as Father Cristóvão Ferreira / Ciarán Hinds as Father Valignano / Issei Ogata as Inoue / Tadanobu Asano as Interpreter / Shinya Tsukamoto as Mokichi Directed by Martin Scorsese / Written by Scorsese and Jay Cocks, based on the book by Shûsaku Endô |
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Clearly, this
material has deep personal meaning for him, seeing as he yearned to be a
priest early in his life and has subsequently made two films - THE LAST
TEMPTATION OF CHRIST and KUNDUN - that heavily featured spiritual subject
matter. In a way, SILENCE
rounds off Scorsese's "faith trilogy", and perhaps more than any
other previous film from the acclaimed filmmaker it's arguably his
most audacious work. Even though the
film has a sprawling, but problematic running time of nearly three hours
(more on that in a bit), SILENCE tells a deeply insular story of stark
simplicity. The screenplay -
written by Scorsese and Jay Cocks, the former who also co-wrote THE AGE OF
INNOCENCE and GANGS OF NEW YORK)
concerns the overarching narrative of Jesuit priests trying to convert the
largely Buddhist Japanese to Christianity during the aforementioned
period, which was made all the more difficult seeing as Christianity was
severely outlawed in Japan, with many in positions of authority
considering it a cancer on their society. Yet, the priests - despite such steadfast and
frequently hostile and violent opposition - were deeply driven by their
faith that imparting Christianity to the Japanese was just and right.
If anything, SILENCE is engrossingly rich and thought provoking
because of the multitude of questions it poses - without directly
answering them - about spirituality, religious ideology, culture
clashes, and the inherent conflict that resides within different people
that are doggedly devoted to their respected faiths and preserving their
ways of life.
One particular
priest, Cristovao Ferreira (Liam Neeson), traveled from his home country
of Portugal on such a mission to transform the Japanese into a Christ
loving culture, but when he mysteriously vanishes this raises far too many
concerning questions from his friends and colleagues back home.
Deeply worried over Ferreira's ultimate fate, fellow priests
Rodrigues (Andrew Garfield) and Garupe (Adam Driver) convince their
superior to allow for them to secretly enter Japan to not only determine
what happened to their friend, but to also intrepidly continue on his
work. Unfortunately for the
pair, they soon realize just how arduously difficult their challenge to
convert the Japanese will be. Even
though there are pockets of citizens that willfully practice Christianity
in secret, most of them fear adopting the faith, seeing as methods to
eradicate it from the country are inordinately brutal.
The Inquisitor, Inoue (Issei Ogata), has made it his personal
vendetta to punish any incoming Jesuit priest as well as any locales that
support them. After much
hiding and witnessing the cruelty of the Inquisitor's methods, Rodrigues
himself is captured by him, which eventually boils over to a battle of
wills between the pair to see which one will break first.
SILENCE is a
sometimes nightmarishly intense endurance test to sit through, mostly
because it unflinchingly relays the hellish ordeal that Rodrigues and Garupe
suffer through in their attempts to achieve success on their highly
righteous mission. SILENCE is
not wall to wall violence, but the savagery of some of its imagery will
linger with me for an awfully long time, especially in how in rarely shies
away from showing shogun atrocities.
Christians are made examples of by higher Japanese authorities in
methodically slow and painful ways. For
those that refuse to completely denounce Christianity by stepping on
(literally) the fumie (a small likeness of Jesus), the repercussions and
punishment are horrifically severe. SILENCE
is continually engaging - if not frightening - in the manner it shows the
barbarity that occurred in Japan at the time and the lengths that men like
Rodrigues and Garupe went through to see their cause through to successful
fruition. This brings us to
the second half of the film, which is its most fascinating,
during which time Rodrigues is brought before the Inquisitor and engages
in a painfully protracted cerebral battle with him to convince him that
the Christian way is the righteous way.
Rodrigues, if anything, is driven to the mental and physical
breaking point, so much so that he begins to doubt the very worthiness of
his mission and his own belief in God. Not only is he imprisoned and kept in a small wooden cage,
but he's also forced against his will to watch the torture of his fellow
Japanese Christians, which the Inquisitor uses to demolish his morality.
One of the central queries that SILENCE poses is how powerful of a
force is religious conviction when one with a strong belief in
Christianity faces an utterly unwavering opponent that will most likely
never change. Scorsese respects the intelligence and wherewithal of audience members to deal with the nagging uncertainties of Rodrigues' plight. How much suffering will this man endure before he gives up? What's more important to him: giving up altogether and abandoning his faith or staying firm in his opposition of the Inquisitor until the very bitter end? Moreover, if he does give up will God forgive him? Will God renounce him? Or worse yet, will God even care or notice one way or another? SILENCE is a film that's continually challenging from the Christian theological perspective, but it should also be pointed out that it never really engages in outright hero worship of the Jesuits, nor does it flat out condemn the Japanese as villainous monsters. There's a surprising amount of time and care taken with showing multiple Japanese prerogatives both pro and anti Christian and digs deep into their respective mindsets. Scorsese is not being forgiving, though, of the unpardonable savagery of the shogun, but he does give the Inquisitor, for example, ample screen time to calmly and plainly speak his mind and reveal his rationales. In his mind, the seeds of Christianity could never germinate in the "swamps" of Japan and become a fertile tree. Amazingly, SILENCE is fairly diplomatic with both sides and neither glorifies the Jesuits nor completely demonizes the Japanese. There's an attempt here to understand both vantage points. SILENCE is
visually unlike just about any other Scorsese film in the sense that he
never employs his typical stylistic hubris here and instead uses a lean
and spare shooting style to quietly evoke a time and place from our
distant past. His understated
and restrained aesthetic here allows his film to been more keenly
observational of his characters and settings, which is a wise choice.
Aside from solid period production values and attuned direction,
SILENCE allows the performers to really shine through in thanklessly
difficult roles. Garfield
himself has never been better playing another character driven by faith
(as was the case with the recent HACKSAW
RIDGE), but he digs deeper here I think in evoking a man
obsessively driven by a devotion to God that's plagued with unavoidable
doubts. Adam Driver's work
greatly compliments Garfield's, and both actors create a tangible sense of
religious brothership between them. I
especially appreciated Ogata's extremely tricky turn as the Inquisitor,
whom has to suggest a man of reptilian evil that's not entirely the
product of pure villainy; he gives the film's most quietly mesmerizing
performance. SILENCE is such a
commendably ambitious historical drama in so many respects that yet again
demonstrates Scorsese at the zenith of his directorial might: At
74-years-old, he's tackling impressively diverse subject matter with the
vitality and passion of a filmmaker half his age.
My only misgiving with SILENCE, though, is that it feels
punishingly long to endure at times...and self indulgent bloat somewhat
taints this film and holds it frustratingly back from greatness.
Narrative momentum is further stymied by Scorsese's lack of
discipline in terms of knowing when to precisely end the film.
There's a specific point when it could have attained a conclusion
of stark and immediate power, but then the film progresses onward another
15-20 minutes and tags on a fairly unnecessary epilogue that only really
adds redundant filler to the picture. A
tighter and leaner SILENCE with a shorter running time would not only have
been less taxing on filmgoers, but would have also made for a much more
cohesive and satisfying overall experience.
Still, I'd take
an imperfect Scorsese film about endlessly challenging ideas that falls
short of masterful status over just about any empty minded endeavor that's
playing in a cinema right now. I have no loss of faith in that. |
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