of embryonic stem cell research, who argue that the embryos (who will undoubtedly never be given the chance to live) could be used in experiments that could generate data that might lead to cures for a multitude of human diseases and ailments; the fact that many of these proponents consider themselves otherwise pro-life for various reasons, and have reconciled the position of the church and the position of their conscience, is left untouched.
It’s just one more spectacle in a film full of them, exploiting religious history and spurious conjecture regarding the mythos of secret societies for marginally dazzling shot compositions or button-pushing moments that the film attempts to defuse moments later with another half-witted platitude or the far more sensational appearance of a mutilated body. In any case, all this simmering tension is meant to suggest that the future of Christendom is at a precipice and in need of a radical new direction. It never occurs to the filmmakers that the “Catholic church on Earth” is not limited to the RCC, that Christianity may be too diverse to rise or fall on the coattails of a single institution.
When the Vatican refused the filmmakers access to its hallowed grounds, it ignited a mini-controversy. The Church was too stodgy, too worried about such antiquated notions as blasphemy. During interviews, the cast and crew repeatedly disclosed their mystification that the Catholic Church would take such exception to a silly piece of summer entertainment. (As if the Church had such a short memory that it wouldn’t recall The Da Vinci Code asserting that the whole of Christianity was a complete hoax. Now why would they be sore about something as trivial as that ol’ thing?) Perhaps the problem is that the filmmakers use issues that are rather important to millions of people — religious and nonreligious — as a platform for a bombastic treasure hunt that revels in the sadistic murder of priests.
Tom Hanks, the model of innocuous protagonism, is an inspiring hero because he’s just so goshdarn nice, not because his character is given any grounding. He has nothing to do but hold the cinematographer’s attention. If it weren’t for the fact that Langdon carries us from tedious plot contrivance to tedious plot contrivance with such authoritative technobabble, you’d think he was utterly incapable of forming a firm opinion about anything. He’s the kind of academic who claims to search for truth, yet backpedals from clearly articulating the implications of what he’s discovered. For a scientist, truth-seeking is all about finding quantifiable data, conclusive evidence that unifies and supports a theory or debunks it… at least until better, more accurate data comes along. By trade Robert Langdon is a skeptic, yet his implausible adventures require an incredible amount of audience credulity, that the audience (judging from ticket sales) seems dreadfully willing to grant.
Belittling the audience with its elementary school book report review of fudged facts and insulting it with its cursory pertinence, Angels & Demons unintentionally denigrates the ongoing discussion between religion, faith, and science, rather than furthering it. While some viewers may walk out of the film feeling invigorated and uplifted by its “open” approach to these matters, they do so with seriously skewed notions of what’s at stake. Intelligent viewers will feel vaguely numbed or bemused by the framing of substantial theses in a film with no theological or philosophical moorings, aside from a fetish for the trappings of the Catholic Church, which it simultaneously despises for being a Big Lie with little to no integrity, yet reveres for the sheer size and grandeur of its long history and photogenic old buildings. If the film is remembered at all, it will be for rendering complicated ideas as inconsequential. Even for people for whom reconciling faith and science is a non-issue, I can only imagine that Angels & Demons, a bloated, pretentious money-grab, serves as the latest in a long line of exhibits that the blockbuster machine, that infallible arbiter of public taste, is in dire need of a good, old-fashioned reformation. Let us pray for such heresy.
*DBSM: Dan Brown Shitty Movie. I felt a new term was needed to describe the sadomasochistic undertones of voluntarily submitting oneself to yet another adaptation of Brown’s novels. This term may also be expanded to include adaptations of similarly bestselling thrillers and dramas that are brought to screen by industry hacks just professional enough to maintain a prestigious degree of mediocrity that may be confused with genuine quality.
Edited by Adam K.
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