Mike's Musings: Another Look at "Silence"
I can safely say that there is no movie that has occupied my thoughts as much as Martin Scorcese's "Silence." I've thought about it every day since I saw it on January 18th, 2017. It's hard to believe at first, but not so much when I think about it since Martin Scorcese and I approach this with similar mindsets. We were both Christians growing up (he was Catholic while I was Episcopalian) but are now agnostics. And while faith has been a little testy for my once I admitted to myself that I was gay, it was a devastating personal tragedy two and a half years ago that put me firmly in the "agnostic" category. I won't go into detail, but those who know me will know what I'm referring to. That said, please don't ask.
"Silence" is a curious film. It certainly isn't your standard cinema fare, with a routine plot, stock characters, and so on. In fact, for the most part such things are actually irrelevant. This is a movie about ideas. It is about faith and how we view it within others and ourselves. It's the old "you can talk the talk but can you walk the walk" question. Only Scorcese isn't being patronizing. He's very serious about this question.
The central character is Father Rodrigues, wonderfully played by Andrew Garfield. He's one of our best young talents. I first saw him in a little British movie called "Boy A," which incidentally covered a bit of the same ground (I'll get to that later). Rodrigues is a devout Jesuit. He believes that God's word is infallible, that blasphemy is a horrible sin, and so on. This is where the Japanese, led by the clever Inoue (Issei Ogata) and his translator played by Tadanobu Asano as an equally clever weasel, have a way to punish the Jesuits in the most painful way possible. By torturing and killing the Catholic Japanese, they force Rodrigues to make an impossible choice: deface an image of God and save the faithful, or let them die to become martyrs.
The easy answer would be to allow them to become martyrs. After all, they would endure unimaginable pain, but then die and live in paradise. Far away from the situation, it would be easy to say the latter. But up close, it's a much different story. When he first meets them, Rodrigues admires people like Mokichi (Shin'ya Tsukamoto) and Ichizo (Yoshi Oida) for the strength of their faith under so much suffering. But when he sees them tortured to death and God doesn't answer his prayers for intervention, it's hard to stick to his convictions.
But what convictions are they? If the Christians were to step on an image of Jesus, no harm would come to them. Even if it's a formality. The Japanese say this explicitly. Yet they refuse and continue to die. Is this really a matter of faith, or a matter of pride? Inoue thinks its the latter. To prove it, he insists that Rodrigues do it with others lives hanging in the balance. The same offer is made: step on an image of Jesus and they will be set free. Refuse, and they suffer horrible deaths.
Is Inoue a monster? He doesn't think of himself that way. A practical man, he believes that Japanese culture and customs don't create a situation where Christianity can take hold. Rodrigues blames him for poisoning the situation and claims that it is his duty to spread the word of God to all. That's when Inoue has him: he gleefully points out Rodrigues's arrogance, which is the first of many blows to the priest's faith.
And what are we to make of Kichijiro (Yosuke Kubozuka), the priests' squirrelly guide. By willingly stepping on the image of Christ to save himself, is he exhibiting cowardice or common sense. Kichijiro thinks it's the former. and always comes to Rodrigues always comes back, frantically begging for forgiveness. Rodrigues's faith demands that he absolve the man's sins and forgive him, but when this happens repeatedly (causing many to die) and he puts the priest's own life in danger, how far is too far to forgive or trust? Is he even a Christian after all, or just only concerned with saving his own skin? His final scene puts a new wrinkle into that key question.
Finally, there's the long scene where Rodrigues meets with the man he has been searching for. He finds that his worst fears are realized: that Ferrira has given up the faith and has been living as a Japanese. But is it as he feared, or has Ferrira simply accepted the reality that he can save more people by doing so (if not believing it)? And what of his point that, because of language barriers, the Japanese may not be worshipping the same God as Rodrigues? Most importantly, what are we to make of what God tells Rodrigues in his darkest hour? Or if it is even God at all?
What's brilliant about this film is that Scorcese wisely doesn't provide answers to any of these questions. These questions are highly personal, yet obviously open for debate. They are also incredibly important in this day and age. Religious radicalism is on the rise across all faiths, and many religious conservatives support a man because of their faith, despite the fact that he stands against everything they stand for. At least to those who look behind the lines.
Scorcese has made a movie that asks a lot of questions but defies easy answers. It shakes us, it challenges us, and it hurts us. But it does so in ways that make us grow. I said in my review that I was surprised that "Silence" wasn't greeted with a storm of controversy. I still am. Why are Christian conservatives complaining about "Harry Potter" and transpeople in bathrooms when there is a movie that asks questions about faith itself and how to express it.
Which is to say, is it better to talk the talk or walk the walk? You decide.
"Silence" is a curious film. It certainly isn't your standard cinema fare, with a routine plot, stock characters, and so on. In fact, for the most part such things are actually irrelevant. This is a movie about ideas. It is about faith and how we view it within others and ourselves. It's the old "you can talk the talk but can you walk the walk" question. Only Scorcese isn't being patronizing. He's very serious about this question.
The central character is Father Rodrigues, wonderfully played by Andrew Garfield. He's one of our best young talents. I first saw him in a little British movie called "Boy A," which incidentally covered a bit of the same ground (I'll get to that later). Rodrigues is a devout Jesuit. He believes that God's word is infallible, that blasphemy is a horrible sin, and so on. This is where the Japanese, led by the clever Inoue (Issei Ogata) and his translator played by Tadanobu Asano as an equally clever weasel, have a way to punish the Jesuits in the most painful way possible. By torturing and killing the Catholic Japanese, they force Rodrigues to make an impossible choice: deface an image of God and save the faithful, or let them die to become martyrs.
The easy answer would be to allow them to become martyrs. After all, they would endure unimaginable pain, but then die and live in paradise. Far away from the situation, it would be easy to say the latter. But up close, it's a much different story. When he first meets them, Rodrigues admires people like Mokichi (Shin'ya Tsukamoto) and Ichizo (Yoshi Oida) for the strength of their faith under so much suffering. But when he sees them tortured to death and God doesn't answer his prayers for intervention, it's hard to stick to his convictions.
But what convictions are they? If the Christians were to step on an image of Jesus, no harm would come to them. Even if it's a formality. The Japanese say this explicitly. Yet they refuse and continue to die. Is this really a matter of faith, or a matter of pride? Inoue thinks its the latter. To prove it, he insists that Rodrigues do it with others lives hanging in the balance. The same offer is made: step on an image of Jesus and they will be set free. Refuse, and they suffer horrible deaths.
Is Inoue a monster? He doesn't think of himself that way. A practical man, he believes that Japanese culture and customs don't create a situation where Christianity can take hold. Rodrigues blames him for poisoning the situation and claims that it is his duty to spread the word of God to all. That's when Inoue has him: he gleefully points out Rodrigues's arrogance, which is the first of many blows to the priest's faith.
And what are we to make of Kichijiro (Yosuke Kubozuka), the priests' squirrelly guide. By willingly stepping on the image of Christ to save himself, is he exhibiting cowardice or common sense. Kichijiro thinks it's the former. and always comes to Rodrigues always comes back, frantically begging for forgiveness. Rodrigues's faith demands that he absolve the man's sins and forgive him, but when this happens repeatedly (causing many to die) and he puts the priest's own life in danger, how far is too far to forgive or trust? Is he even a Christian after all, or just only concerned with saving his own skin? His final scene puts a new wrinkle into that key question.
Finally, there's the long scene where Rodrigues meets with the man he has been searching for. He finds that his worst fears are realized: that Ferrira has given up the faith and has been living as a Japanese. But is it as he feared, or has Ferrira simply accepted the reality that he can save more people by doing so (if not believing it)? And what of his point that, because of language barriers, the Japanese may not be worshipping the same God as Rodrigues? Most importantly, what are we to make of what God tells Rodrigues in his darkest hour? Or if it is even God at all?
What's brilliant about this film is that Scorcese wisely doesn't provide answers to any of these questions. These questions are highly personal, yet obviously open for debate. They are also incredibly important in this day and age. Religious radicalism is on the rise across all faiths, and many religious conservatives support a man because of their faith, despite the fact that he stands against everything they stand for. At least to those who look behind the lines.
Scorcese has made a movie that asks a lot of questions but defies easy answers. It shakes us, it challenges us, and it hurts us. But it does so in ways that make us grow. I said in my review that I was surprised that "Silence" wasn't greeted with a storm of controversy. I still am. Why are Christian conservatives complaining about "Harry Potter" and transpeople in bathrooms when there is a movie that asks questions about faith itself and how to express it.
Which is to say, is it better to talk the talk or walk the walk? You decide.
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