The problem of adapting The Passion of the Christ from the New Testament is transforming a succinct story into a two-hour movie. Filling in the gaps is where director Mel Gibson has the opportunity to exercise creative license.
For instance, the appearances of a creepily androgynous Satan (Rosalinda Celentano), accompanied in one memorable instance by a smirking demon baby (the future antichrist?), are powerful because they're so unexpectedly subtle. Where Satanic figures are often campy, overblown or even comical (Elizabeth Hurley in Bedazzled, or Al Pacino in The Devil's Advocate), Celentano's expressionless stare and demure lurking are terrifying by comparison. Gibson's details--a maggot slithering from one nostril, clawlike fingernails--are intrinsic to the character, rather than extraneous afterthoughts. After Jesus succumbs on the cross, Gibson depicts a hysterical Satan screaming and ripping off his/her wig. The scene is all the more striking because it's Celentano's only display of emotion, and Gibson's sole depiction of the otherworldly.
In similarly subtle fashion, the hallucinatory hysteria that overtakes Judas following Jesus' capture is represented in the transformation of children's faces into those of leering monsters. The juxtaposition of innocent children with Satan's minions is startling, and so brief as to cause the audience to wonder--did it really even happen? The rotting body of what seems to be a dead donkey, the only witness to Judas' suicide, is also a perversely potent image.
The stylization most evident of Gibson's influence is perhaps the single teardrop, presumably God's, that falls from heaven upon the crucifixion scene. The camera shot is placed within the tear, so that the crucifixion in seen in a watery blur, and then the camera falls within the teardrop onto the ground at Christ's feet.
Gibson does a fine job of cutting down out the melodrama and kitsch typical of classic cinematic Bible interpretations. The familiar moment in which Jesus tells the crucified thief that he will be granted entrance to paradise is especially moving, because the famous words aren't didactic, but comforting sentiments between fellow sufferers.
After this tender moment, however, in a bizarre twist of Gibson-esque violence, a demonic raven plucks out the eyes of the second thief who dares to mock Christ. The scene is one of only a few in the film that scream Hollywood, such as the handsome, athletic appearance of Jesus and the casting of the ridiculously sexy Monica Bellucci as Mary Magdalen. To Gibson's credit, neither Magdalen nor any other females in the film appear to be wearing make-up.
Gibson's interpretation proves that even the most familiar of stories can have the power to jar and to surprise, if the storyteller is up to the task. Though brave directorial visions are Gibson's greatest strength, this is also where Gibson will find himself most vulnerable to criticism.
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