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Silence, 2016
Jesuit fathers Rodrigues (Andrew Garfield) and Garupe (Adam Driver) set off on a mission to Japan when they receive word that their former mentor Father Ferreira (Liam Neeson) has renounced his faith. The men are taken in and hidden by a small village with several Christian converts, but soon come to the attention of a local Inquisitor (Issei Ogata) who puts them through various physical and psychological tortures in an effort to get them to apostatize.
This is an emotionally intense film that, despite being grounded in the Jesuit faith, could apply broadly to anyone: namely, at what point does hewing to your beliefs intersect with the pragmatics of keeping yourself and others healthy and alive?
This is another movie for me that solidified Andrew Garfield as a force to be reckoned with. He made a big impression on me with tick tick BOOM, and once again he throws himself into a role with just the right moments of passion and reserve.
True to what would torment someone who is empathetic and cares about others, the torments inflicted on Father Rodrigues have very little to do with him directly. He is fed well and clothed well. But at random intervals he is pulled from his prison cell to watch one of his followers get beheaded or drowned or put under extreme torture. Even if his followers renounce their belief, the Inquisitor will not let them go until Rodrigues himself denies his faith.
We see over and over the way that the fathers, inspired directly by Christ, are, if not enchanted by, at least theoretically at peace with the idea of self-sacrifice and martyrdom. For them to die would be an inspiration to others and a symbol of their own faith. But it's quite another question when other people are losing their lives. Are you really doing the Lord's work if your silence leads to the deaths of dozens of people?
The theme of silence, and what it means at different points in the film, is really powerful. The first mention of it is the silence of a group of villagers who watch in silence as three men are executed by a combination of crucifixion and drowning. As the film goes on, it is the silence of Rodrigues as he watches the people who are being tortured and killed on his behalf. When the character of Ferreira reenters the film, it's the question of what it means to be faithful but silent. Can someone be religious only in their own heart and mind? Can someone act on the outside as a nonbeliever but still be a Christian (or whatever their faith might be)?
Most of the film is Rodrigues grappling with this question. And even from the sidelines we can see that it is a sliding slope. Early in the film, Rodrigues tells some villagers that if they must step on an image of Christ to prove their non-Christian status, they should do so. But this begs the question: how far can you go from the actions and words of your faith before you cannot be said to practice that faith? In your conception of your religion, how much will your god forgive? Is it enough to just believe in your heart?
The Japan in this film is a beautiful and brutal place. At the same time, there is a coldness to the look of it all that mirrors the anxiety and doom that hangs over the characters. There is no winning here for the Fathers. Or, rather, winning may be just as painful as losing.
This is a beautiful, sweeping film. It is certainly very emotional, and even in its happier moments it rests heavy on your heart. Certainly recommended.
Silence, 2016
Jesuit fathers Rodrigues (Andrew Garfield) and Garupe (Adam Driver) set off on a mission to Japan when they receive word that their former mentor Father Ferreira (Liam Neeson) has renounced his faith. The men are taken in and hidden by a small village with several Christian converts, but soon come to the attention of a local Inquisitor (Issei Ogata) who puts them through various physical and psychological tortures in an effort to get them to apostatize.
This is an emotionally intense film that, despite being grounded in the Jesuit faith, could apply broadly to anyone: namely, at what point does hewing to your beliefs intersect with the pragmatics of keeping yourself and others healthy and alive?
This is another movie for me that solidified Andrew Garfield as a force to be reckoned with. He made a big impression on me with tick tick BOOM, and once again he throws himself into a role with just the right moments of passion and reserve.
True to what would torment someone who is empathetic and cares about others, the torments inflicted on Father Rodrigues have very little to do with him directly. He is fed well and clothed well. But at random intervals he is pulled from his prison cell to watch one of his followers get beheaded or drowned or put under extreme torture. Even if his followers renounce their belief, the Inquisitor will not let them go until Rodrigues himself denies his faith.
We see over and over the way that the fathers, inspired directly by Christ, are, if not enchanted by, at least theoretically at peace with the idea of self-sacrifice and martyrdom. For them to die would be an inspiration to others and a symbol of their own faith. But it's quite another question when other people are losing their lives. Are you really doing the Lord's work if your silence leads to the deaths of dozens of people?
The theme of silence, and what it means at different points in the film, is really powerful. The first mention of it is the silence of a group of villagers who watch in silence as three men are executed by a combination of crucifixion and drowning. As the film goes on, it is the silence of Rodrigues as he watches the people who are being tortured and killed on his behalf. When the character of Ferreira reenters the film, it's the question of what it means to be faithful but silent. Can someone be religious only in their own heart and mind? Can someone act on the outside as a nonbeliever but still be a Christian (or whatever their faith might be)?
Most of the film is Rodrigues grappling with this question. And even from the sidelines we can see that it is a sliding slope. Early in the film, Rodrigues tells some villagers that if they must step on an image of Christ to prove their non-Christian status, they should do so. But this begs the question: how far can you go from the actions and words of your faith before you cannot be said to practice that faith? In your conception of your religion, how much will your god forgive? Is it enough to just believe in your heart?
The Japan in this film is a beautiful and brutal place. At the same time, there is a coldness to the look of it all that mirrors the anxiety and doom that hangs over the characters. There is no winning here for the Fathers. Or, rather, winning may be just as painful as losing.
This is a beautiful, sweeping film. It is certainly very emotional, and even in its happier moments it rests heavy on your heart. Certainly recommended.