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Down, Out, and Adopted
Which character that fits this description is your favorite?
Reviews
La La Land (2016)
Talks about Greatness and delivers Corniness
(Paragraphs 5, 6, 7 reveal the ending)
There's a scene in La La Land where an ambitious pianist takes a girl to a Jazz bar. She has no idea about Jazz ("when I listen to it I don't like it") but it's his mission to make this kind of music relevant again. In the bar, he tries to fight her prejudices: Jazz is not just superficial background music, there's heart and soul and sophistication in it, and so forth... Meanwhile, a band actually plays jazz in the place, but the music is pushed into the background behind all the talking.
The scene is paradigmatic for the film. The pianist, Seb (Ryan Gosling), wants to revolutionize music; the girl, an actress called Mia (Emma Stone), goes through disappointing castings but wants to get a role with real depth. A lot of fuss is made about dreamers, crazy geniuses, "real art", but only on the plot level: What we actually see and hear is rather banal, "agreeable" at best. As a (semi-)musical, it is less than ambitious. It's not even much exaggerated to say that some of the dances in the early choreographies could have been executed by anyone with two healthy feet.
For much of the time, Emma Stone and Ryan Gosling can sparkle some interest in what is their third and best appearance together. Stone can be snappy and Gosling surly, but both are able to let enough goodwill shine through to remain likable. Gosling has the more thankful role as the gruff genius; Stone has the task to be inspired by him.
Gosling's Seb starts out as a broken artist who has to play standard Christmas tunes in a bar. Knowing that no one cares about what he does, he sneaks in a personal piece, which is called "Mia and Sebastian's theme" on the soundtrack and will be repeated throughout the movie. It will cause Mia to stand still abruptly, listen amazedly, and approach Seb (even if this encounter goes sour, it's the beginning of a romance). Have I missed something about this melody? It's just as trivial as the Christmas songs. I'd almost say it's no wonder the other bar guests don't notice the new piece: It doesn't stick out. Mia is the only one for whom the world changes. Maybe Seb isn't so talented after all?
But yes, of course both are really that talented. Seb will be persuaded by a colleague (John Legend) to join a successful band (whose supposedly superficial hit song is still better than any other music in the movie), but in the end, he opens his own club and plays "real" Jazz. Mia, after failing with her performance of a monodrama, gets cast in an indie film, goes to France for a few months and emerges as a world-famous star.
So, everything alright? Okay, such a happy ending would be too sugar-sweet even for "La La Land". Three factors could form a true happy ending in this story: 1. Financial success 2. Artistic Integrity 3. Love (between Seb and Mia). Granted, it takes a little courage to kill one of these ingredients. Mia comes back to Los Angeles with a husband, enters Seb's bar, and listens to "their" melody for a last time. We are tricked into believing that the lovers get together again and dance around the world, but in the end, it's all a dream. One last time, Mia smiles - and is gone forever.
However, isn't it consistent with our times to give up love when in doubt? People can be very romantic when it comes to "fulfill their dreams", but this usually equals job prospects, not relationships. Almost 50 years ago, Ali McGraw's character in "Love Story" was in a similar position when she was offered a prestigious apprenticeship in Paris. She refused - out of faithfulness to her lover.
"La La Land" is a movie of excessive kitsch, but it refuses to be "cheesy" in a moment that could have made a little difference.
For director Damien Chazelle, candy-colored sceneries and likable actors who smile and dance every now and then equals charm. There are directors out there who dream a little bigger.
Toni Erdmann (2016)
Old formula... refreshing film.
How could they make such a good film out of "Toni Erdmann"? The premise seems worn-out: Winfried Conradi (Peter Simonischek), a retired music teacher, assumes the fake identity of Toni Erdmann by putting on grotesque fake teeth whenever he feels like horsing around with people, which is quite often. He comes to visit his daughter Ines (Sandra Hüller), a tough businesswoman who lives in Bucharest, and messes up her life. The trailer gave reason to expect a movie with more instances of Fremdschämen - external shame - than comedy. And I took it for granted that all this would lead to a "heartwarming" change of the daughter and her discovering what "living" really means.
But this comedy isn't about punchlines, and this tragedy isn't about payoffs. The actors are too clever to make caricatures out of their characters. Sandra Hüller in particular deserves praise for keeping a shade of humanity in the early scenes, and it actually makes her more creepy. Is her tolerably friendly behavior towards her father just as phoney as her smiles in business sessions? And writer-director Maria Ade shows us so much from the lives of her characters and takes the scenes to such lengths that cheap triumphs become impossible. Toni interferes in Ines' life when he tells tall tales to her clients or even introduces himself as the "German ambassador in Romania"; but ultimately, he doesn't overthrow, he only irritates. When Ines hosts a nude party at the end, it would play out like an act of liberation in any other film. Here, the most drastic consequence is a change of workplace: from one consulting company to the next.
No, Toni Erdmann cannot change the cold business world, which is a tragedy. But he remains stubborn and resistant in this world, and that is a blessing. Because the film takes time (162 minutes) to make you care for these characters and to introduce believable (if not realistic) situations, they provide some humor again. When Toni makes a slick businessman believe that he's hired a replacement daughter because his real child is too busy to spend time with him, you laugh that you may not cry.
Globalization is an important theme in "Toni Erdmann". Economic issues are addressed ("outsourcing"), but in the end the movie has more to say about cultural and societal alienation. Large parts of the dialogue are held in English even though, if I remember correctly, no native English speakers turn up; this adds to the shallowness of conversations. One can talk about business deals, bars and shopping facilities this way, but after a while, there may not be anything more to care about. The Romanians, by the way, never come off as stereotyped, whether it's an impulsive factory owner or a simple worker. For some reason, it is an absolute rarity in films - in Hollywood and elsewhere - to portray foreigners as human beings if they're not among the leads, but this is one of those instances.
The wisest films tend to ask questions instead of giving answers. Toni asks Ines the old, clichéd question, "Do you actually find the time to live?" She responds, "What is living?" Toni doesn't know. He tries to live his own way, but he can't tell others what to do, and the ending doesn't show us a revolution. Maria Ade knows what Brecht knew when he wrote,
"With consternation / We see the curtain closed, the plot unended. / In your opinion then, what's to be done?"
Forrest Gump (1994)
Stupid is as Stupid does... Yeah, Exactly.
Can a film be so lighthearted and optimistic, so appealing and endearing that no malice can come from it? Quite on the contrary. Hollywood is cynical, especially when it comes to "magical" family entertainment.
Forrest Gump's Ma (Sally Field) gives all her heart and right pieces of advice to make her slow-witted son become a kind-hearted adult (Tom Hanks). He may not be a smart man, but he knows what love is - so far, so good. But this movie is not content to show us how a lovable goof gets by in everyday life - it takes you to places and situations where simple truths are not enough and even can have disastrous effects (not that we get to see those). Forrest sets out into the world and experiences countless adventures - for him, life is really "a box of chocolates". When he goes on a run across America that will last for several years, it has no purpose for him other than that he feels like running. Going to Vietnam is not the same thing.
The message of "Forrest Gump" is not: Only dumb people get by in life; Forrest has certain talents, but he is incapable of independent thought. Therefore, the message is: Do as you are told, and you will succeed. I do not make this up. When a military officer shouts: "Gump! What's your sole purpose in this army?", he answers: "To do whatever you tell me, drill sergeant!" This is intended to be funny, but not ironic.
The problem is not strictly that the film has an ultraconservative attitude, but that it tries to sell its narrow-minded values with a seemingly non-political story (although conservative ideology and seemingly harmless stories go together quite well). Why does Forrest have to be a war hero? Why does he have to be a pawn in the hands of Nixon and Mao? Is it noble to "just play ping-pong" if you don't realize how your Olympic medal is being used? Just because your skyline is a circle with the radius zero does not mean your actions have no farreaching implications.
When Forrest tells about his "ancestor" Nathan Bedford Forrest, an actual Grand Wizard of the Ku Klux Klan, we may suspect that in this alternate history, Nathan liked the white cloaks and enjoyed playing tag with people who all happened to be black.
The only ones who sort of disagree with this whole "do whatever you tell me" thing are the hippies, but you'd better not get mixed up with them. Jenny (Robin Wright), Forrest's childhood friend, puts flowers in her hair and you know what happens? Her hippie boyfriend beats her, and she gets AIDS (presumably).
So, is that what you tell children - do what authorities tell you, don't question anything, always be friendly and polite, and the world will be yours? You shouldn't use a comparison with Nazi Germany (where Forrest would undoubtedly have made a good career) as a killer argument. No need for that. The movie reduces itself to absurdity when it invokes "Full Metal Jacket"'s Sgt. Gunnery Hartman in the drill sequences.
12 Years a Slave (2013)
Those who cry loudest "Slavery is bad" still have nothing to say about today's problems
"12 Years a Slave" almost makes us feel pain. It depicts the sufferings of black slaves as realistic and harrowing as possible. But doesn't it make us also feel satisfied at the end? The white audience will think that they wouldn't have been like Edwin Epps. Maybe like William Ford, played as a noble coward by Benedict Cumberbatch. Times were hard back then, after all, and not everybody can be a hero. The problem with many historical movies that tackle "important" issues is that they just recreate past sufferings and point the finger to past injustice. And because everyone can agree that slavery is bad, there is a wide, positive reception of the film and it becomes a flagship for the Black Struggle.
It is beyond me how so many thought it would be a great idea to give a Best Picture Oscar to "12 Years a Slave" when "Malcolm X" was released two decades before it. Spike Lee dared to ask important questions. How much can be accomplished by means of a peaceful struggle, and is there a moment when turning the other cheek is not an option anymore? Does Islam provide an alternative to develop pride and self-awareness? Can there even be an America where races live truly equal to each other? But these are not the questions that most of us (or the Academy) want to hear.
Solomon Northup (Chiwetel Ejiofor), a free black family man, gets abducted to the South in 1841, and spends 12 years as a slave. His masters are cowardly at best and utterly evil in the person of Edwin Epps (Michael Fassbender), who cruelly whips his slaves and lets Northup hang from a tree all day long, so he can barely survive. There is nothing whatsoever challenging in these brutal scenes. We know our stance. And we all come together - the boss who would rather not hire someone with the name Kareem, the politician who doesn't care about ghettos, and our ordinary selves, who donate a few cents at a cynical coffee shop to feed starving African children. And we all weep, and clean our souls with our pitying tears.
How can I mention the details of this film? Doesn't it cloud my senses the more Chiwetel Ejiofor inspires sympathy, the more heartbreaking Lupita Nyong'o (as a fellow cotton picker on Epp's farm) cries, the viler the look in Michael Fassbender's eyes becomes? Sympathy is a precious human emotion, but sympathy without mind makes you prone to manipulation and distraction.
No, the mere tone does never make a film important. It is an insult to the viewer to drown them in emotions but restrain them to the lowest intellectual denominator.
There was a controversy in 2016 about the fact that so few people of color are nominated for or win Oscars. If "12 Years a Slave" hadn't won the Oscar - that would have been a win for minorities.
Qu'est-ce qu'on a fait au Bon Dieu? (2014)
Funny, but even more harmless
Classic drama is divided into tragedies and comedies. The protagonists of comedies stem from the lower class, and they deal with their petty everyday problems in an obscene and grotesque manner. Tragic characters are noble, sophisticated and powerful, and fate presses on their shoulders. Since the dawn of film, this correlation has reversed, and "Serial (Bad) Weddings" is the best example of it. Merry it is, but don't even think it has anything to say about such depressing issues as integration and multi-cultural society.
Claude Verneuil (played by Christian Clavier, formerly known as "Astérix") is a bourgeois, if there ever was one. He resides in a spacious mansion in Chinon, is Catholic, and has a wife and four beautiful daughters. Claude is also politically conservative (who only claims to be "liberal" before or after making right-wing statements). What tragedy when one by one, his daughters marry "Unfrench" husbands (a Muslim, a Jew, and a Chinese) and Claude must learn that the last remaining one, Laure (Élodie Fontan), is engaged to a black man. Or is it?
None of the husbands are really that irreconcilable with Claude's values. All are French citizens and identify as French. Rashid the Algerian is a lawyer, David the Jew is an entrepreneur, and Chao the Chinese is a banker. Even Charles Kofi, who is Ivorian, apparently has wealthy parents. When Laure tells her parents about her fiancé before they will meet in a restaurant, her father anxiously wants to know if anything's wrong with him. Laure responds that he's an actor. Claude is relieved - this much he can handle. But I think it's exactly the other way around. Just imagine Charles were bit less "respectable" - in an economic sense. Would Claude make the best of things if his son-in-law were an illegal immigrant? Or if Rashid were on the other side of the dock, and if Chao was a less perfect stereotype of an Asian businessman?
This movie is good-hearted and imaginative in its comical situations (I particularly liked the encounter between Clavier and Pascal Nzonzi, who plays the African "patriarch"). However, it is about as socially relevant as a handshake between Obama and Putin, or Merkel and Erdoğan. Individuals, especially if they're well-off, can always get together and throw a big party. The fact that "Serial (Bad) Weddings" is considered a worthwhile contribution to ongoing social debates and chosen as teaching material (in many German schools, at least) reveals a process of distraction.
Divergent (2014)
Generation Maybe
How cynical: A city with five factions, where every adolescent turning 16 must decide where they want to belong, and then can never change their fate, ever. And an audience, consisting of teenagers, who can chose to do whatever they like, and to change whenever they like.
I find this scenario somewhat more promising than the dangerously pseudo-political "Hunger Games", although "Divergent" is too indulging toward its target group to really deal with the topic in an interesting way. Its dystopian Chicago is rather an awry allegory of a bygone class-society, where farmers brought forth farmers, academics remained academics etc., and only a few individuals crossed social borders. No one would want class society back but is "Generation Maybe" the only alternative?
What links the teenage-audience with the "Divergent" heroine, Tris (Shailene Woodley), is the fear of making a decision. As free as today's society is, our decisions have definite and disturbing consequences. Here you can see why this movie is not critical at all: The fear of decision is attributed to a system that is no more (or rather, has never really been), not to the system that exists right now.
Tris is one of ca. 5% of the population who are divergent ("I'm also divergent!", cry 95% of the audience). She is born into the Abnegation faction, which consists of altruists, somewhat reminiscent of Harry Potter's Hufflepuff House. Like everyone her age, she must take a serum to determine which faction she belongs to, psychologically. Apparently science can do that in the future. Yeah, the evil government uses the serum - but the movie has quite an inhumane attitude if it thinks that you just need some advanced "science" to scan someone's soul. And I'm sure some of the girls watching this would much prefer a serum over one of those Career counseling talks. What could be wrong about that, after all?
Anyway, turns out Tris could also be an Erudite (an Intellectual, or a Ravenclaw), or a Dauntless (the Brave; Gryffindor, anyone?). At least, she is not peaceful enough to be a one of the Amity, and not honest enough to be a Candor. Hm.
Unsurprisingly, Tris decides to be one of the Dauntless (who run a brutal and fierce competition to determine who will stay and who will end up being "Factionless"). Unsurprisingly, she overcomes this cruel system by practicing hard and outdoing her competitors. Surprisingly unsurprising, Jeanine Matthews (Kate Winslet), a sleek Erudite leader, turns out to be a genocide-endorsing megalomaniac. If they had just taken Ansel Elgort, who plays Shailene Woodley's boyfriend in "The Fault in Our Stars", as her love interest in this film, instead of making him play the brother
At least, there would have been some chemistry between the stars. I found it a bit sloppy how Theo James emerges as Tris' lover amidst all the action.
At the end of "Divergent", I am all the more convinced that Young Adult Fiction's flirtation with dystopian concepts is toxic. If you cannot be true to your audiences (and no big-budgeted youth franchise can be when it comes to political ideas), you'd better settle for something that is harmless in the first place. Where have all the dragons, wizards, goblins, and worthwhile characters gone? And which faction in "Divergent" is the clone of Slyterhin*?
*My theory is that the Erudite represent both Ravenclaw and Slytherin, and that Jeanine Matthews and Draco Malfoy are somehow related to each other
Spotlight (2015)
A rare case of Reason
The words "Catholic church" and "abuse" would be reason enough to make people's blood boil. It would have been easy to portray religion as evil and to exploit the victims in tearful scenes. "Spotlight" knows better than that because it respects both the case and the audience by having the courage to be intelligent and maintain a healthy distance. The film is based on actual events: "Spotlight" is the name of the "Boston Globe"'s investigative unit. Michael Keaton plays the leader of the team, and he is supported by Mark Ruffalo, Rachel McAdams and John Slattery. Ordered by a new editor (Liev Schreiber, who talks very slowly, as if pondering over the truthfulness of every word), they research a case of child abuse committed by a Catholic priest that had previously attracted media attention but had been closed without consequences. Step by step, they unveil a system of cover-up and many more unreported rapes.
The struggle of the journalists cannot be won by mere sympathy; prudence and commitment are needed. Credit must be given to director Tom McCarthy that he doesn't squeeze the material for effect and fittingly, the camera remains refreshingly un-shaken (remember the time when most directors at least trusted their skills to create meaningful images?). We hardly get to see the reporters' everyday lives, and although the movie doesn't shy away from showing the victims, they are not overplayed. While none of the team is a devout believer, all have been raised Catholic and have an idea what they're dealing with. They may have mixed feelings about going to mass ever again, but their agenda is not to destroy the church. The team invest themselves in the case in order not only to bring justice, but also to change the framework in which the crimes could happen.
The internet enables a multitude of people to express their opinions, do research on their own, and articulate opposition. But this film suggests that collective intelligence cannot replace the work newspapers do. Keaton and his team act with individual responsibility and they have to wait for the right moment to take action. In the aftermath of 9/11, the public wouldn't want to deal with child-raping priests, and so the chance for a close examination and subsequent change would pass up. Months later, and with all crucial information at hand, the time had come.
"Spotlight" has been compared to the 1976 classic "All the President's Men", about the journalists involved in uncovering the Watergate scandal. Frankly, "All President's Men" is flawed exactly where the newer film shines; it's all about how one crook (Richard Nixon) abused his power, but Nixon was no more than a scapegoat for the various problems that trouble(d) America and the world. "All the President's Men", like the majority of Hollywood movies, cannot differentiate between individual crimes and a whole system that enables crooks to carry out their misdeeds. "Spotlight" is so admirable because it knows the difference.
Super (2010)
Kicks Ass. Kicks Brain Too.
"I wonder all the time why no-one's never just stood up and become a real superhero." So says Libby (Ellen Page), a comic store clerk in "Super". Of course, we are reminded of "Kick-Ass", that other superhero satire which also came out in 2010. In both films, a miserable loser tails himself a weird costume and attempts to fight crime, although he has no special skills or even an idea where to look for. For "Kick-Ass", the satiric approach was no more than a gimmick, and the film would soon settle down for a commonplace Good vs. Evil fight, merely with a few jokes as the icing of the cake. What makes "Super" special (and infinitely less popular) is how it actually dares to think the whole superhero scheme through to its bitter end.
When Frank (Rainn Wilson) creates his alter ego, "Crimson Bolt", he wants to compensate for the fact that his wife (Liv Tyler), a relapsing drug addict, hooks up with racketeer Jacques (Kevin Bacon). The fact that superheroes do their crimefighting stuff not out of concern for society but rather for their own tormented egos is eagerly acknowledged by modern comic book adaptations. If I'm not mistaken this truth is uttered by the villains in DC movies and by the protagonists themselves in the more easygoing Marvel flicks. Nevertheless, the innocent lady (or the city, or the whole universe) is in clear and present danger, and so it comes in handy that a crook created a vigilante in Bruce Wayne back when he killed his parents.
It's interesting that a Christian comic series inspires Frank to take action. Is this is a mockery of prudish religious fundamentalists? Maybe, but it's even scarier that your common "cool" superhero stuff has the same core values as "The Holy Avenger". What links Frank and the Christian comic is that both are unable to disguise their simplistic worldviews behind badass one-liners or pseudo-philosophical mottos. "You don't butt in line!", is his justification to bust a man's head with a pipe wrench. It's not a long way for him to say, "You don't sell drugs! You don't molest little children! You don't profit on the misery of others!"
And yes, Jacques is a heinous villain, but he remarks, "You really think that killing me, stabbing me to death is gonna change the world?" This observation comes a little late, because by then a horde of gangsters has been blown up, multiple innocent people killed, and even Libby, who joined Frank into the fight as a sidekick, has had her head blown to pieces. Libby is the one aspect of the movie that doesn't quite make sense. Ellen Page plays her gorgeously, but she may be a bit too gorgeous to follow this creepy loner, and her sole purpose is to be a persiflage of Batman's Robin (sexual connotations included), which turns out to be one-dimensional.
Maybe it would have been even more radical to give super wealth and super intelligence to someone like Frank - then he could serve as a caricature for both Batman and Donald Trump. However, there is already a character with these features who, in his own words, has "successfully privatized world peace". "Iron Man" is one inch (and a whole MCU universe) away from being a satire. For the time being, "Super" meets demands.
Pulp Fiction (1994)
How can you tell a Story?
"Hollywood... that's what we did - better than everybody else in the world - we told a really good story. Europe was where you had character-based films or mood-based films, but in America we told good stories. We're the worst at it now." - Quentin Tarantino in an interview with Charlie Rose, 1994
How ironic that Tarantino's influence on Hollywood inadvertently killed not only storytelling but also characters and mood. That is not his fault; on the contrary, every wannabe Tarantino movie makes me admire even more the freshness and the vision of the original master's early works, chiefly "Pulp Fiction". From the 90s on, hip movies must have quirky and self-aware characters, a total disconnection from the real world, and non-linear narratives. But these are not really the trademarks of "Pulp Fiction".
Jules Winfield (Samuel L. Jackson), Vincent Vega (John Travolta) and even Mia Wallace (Uma Thurman) are not quirky for the sake of being quirky, nor are they self-aware. They are plausible in a world that vaguely resembles our own but is tailored to be more fun. There may not exist hit-men dressed in black and white, reciting Bible verses and surviving five pistol shots without a scratch. But there may be people who would, if they would kill someone accidentally, say: "I shot him in the face!" And many of us would be nervous and shoot the crap when we are with someone we don't know (not necessarily our gangster boss' wife). As bizarrely rich as this L.A. crime world is - and there are many little fascinating details - the characters remain approximately human and accessible on an emotional level. Not the protagonists are meta. The filmmaker is meta in the sense that he knows his influences and how to use them. As every great artist, he moves the puppets for his purpose, but part of the greatness is to create the momentary illusion that the puppets are real.
What distinguishes QT (from his own followers, for example) is his ability to interpret his favorite movies and recreate their qualities. "Pulp Fiction" is a neo-noir in the sense that its peculiar dialogue, style and characters hover above the plot (just compare it to "The Big Sleep"). Now, a lesser movie like "Kiss Kiss Bang Bang" would simply assemble a bunch of cynical characters who engage in exaggerated movie talk and stumble through a plot that makes no sense, all the while commenting on their own absurdity. Tarantino is not content with that.
His story is complex, and he tells it a-chronologically. But Tarantino is not an empty post-modernist; the stories and the characters make sense BECAUSE they are presented in a non-linear way. To follow Vincent Vega to all his hit-man jobs and then to Mia Wallace would be anti-climactic - we need "Vincent Vega and Marsellus Wallace's Wife" as an episode in between, where Vincent can breath freely because not only don't we know what happens but we don't even know that something will happen.
Just about any element is familiar from earlier movies or novels, but that's the point: We cannot invent stories that are actually new, maybe no one ever could after the ancient epics of Homer. It's all about HOW a story is told. Tarantino sets up a situation - Vincent meets Butch Coolidge (Bruce Willis) and they can't smell each other - or Mia Wallace is about to tell a joke, and then something else happens, until we forget there was a joke, and at some point Mia says "Ketchup" in a bloody blouse, and much later, Butch shoots Vincent while he is in the john and the toaster screams. It's all about timing.
Many stories in this film are told by the characters without that we see the incident. It's priceless how stoically Christopher Walken tells the young Butch how, "for five long years", his father "wore this watch up his ass". And why did that guy who gave Mia the foot massage fall out of the window? Other events (the needle that resurrects Mia like a stake would kill off a vampire) must be shown to be believed. By the way, where does this patch on Marsellus' neck stem from?
The attitude in "Pulp Fiction" is more important than any verbose message. The classic "Rashomon" is about how reality is perceived on the basis of four tales, and the classic "Pulp Fiction" is about what lengths you can go to tell a really good story.
The moment that is chosen to be the ending of "Pulp Fiction" is when Vincent and Jules leave the diner, with their surfer T-shirts on. We know that Vincent will be killed in mere hours or days, but until then, he can experience countless adventures. Because this is the pulpy domain of fiction, and Vincent is immortalized in it.
The Passion of the Christ (2004)
"The Passion of the Christ", an accurate title
Don't all movies with scenes of graphic violence need to attach some sort of meaning? "Saw" was almost a religious film, with its concept of sin and punishment. Michael Meyers and Jason Voorhees punish those teenagers that commit the sin of premarital sex. The belief that there is meaning in suffering is deeply rooted in Christianity, and Mel Gibson consequently pictured this belief in "The Passion of the Christ".
Gibson doesn't spare us any detail, but I think people who are familiar with the Gospels will find his film to be a graphic variant of a church service. Anyone who has no bearing on Christian faith will not find the film to their liking, but why should they? Gibson interprets the Bible audiovisually, but doesn't do much to alter the story (except for incorporating a few associated legends), and the fact that only Aramaic, Hebrew, and Latin are spoken helps establish an atmosphere of archaic rawness. You can attempt to reconcile Jesus with modern values, but the core of Christian belief is that Christ suffered and died for the sins of mankind.
Is this movie anti-semitic? It is hard to overlook the effort of the Gospels to villainize the Jews as the murderers of Jesus; they urge the Romans to crucify Jesus and prefer to release an irredeemable criminal instead of him. Even governor Pontius Pilatus is granted a more ambivalent character - he washes his hands to show his innocence, after all. But the film must find a way to show the exchange between Pilatus and the Jews, and here it is only Caiaphas the high priest who shouts at the governor. The "crowd" behind him is small and does not leave the impression that it represents the Jewish people. The rest of the people of Jerusalem are not demonized, and some of them react empathically towards Jesus.
You have every right to disagree with Mel Gibson, and to reject "The Passion of the Christ". But at least he stands for something, and he has the talent to express his belief powerfully.