The 'Passion' and 'Ring'

Those of you who like my occasional movie reviews are perhaps surprised I've so far neglected Mel Gibson's "The Passion of the Christ." Mea culpa. But it was just last month that (courtesy of my friend Adrian Day, who's also a longtime opera buff) I saw Wagner's "Ring Cycle." The two works lend themselves to a dual review.

Wagner's "Ring" runs almost 18 hours, divided into four operas – seeing a production is considered a once-in-a-lifetime event for most people, if only because of the cost, which ran $1,000 at the New York Met. Obviously, a brief summary of the plot of such a long production is foredoomed to inadequacy, so I won't try, but it's essentially a morality play: An evil deed has far-reaching consequences – which overcome and undo the best efforts of both gods and heroes.

As such, although it's gloomy in theme, it's uplifting and heroic. Wagner's story is true to the spirit of Norse mythology. Tolkien, in his splendid "Lord of the Rings," was greatly influenced by elements of Wagner's "Ring" (as well as, of course, the Arthurian legends, and the Sagas and the Eddas). The "Ring" contains some of the most magnificent music ever written, but it's only vaguely (if that) known by the average American.

Gibson's "Passion" is an accurate retelling of the story of the last 12 hours in the life of Jesus, who is called the Christ. The movie has apparently already become one of the 10 largest grossing films in history, which raises the question: Why?

There have been a fair number of film versions of the life of Christ, but none of them made anything near this kind of a splash. Sure, the United States has always been awash with Christians (Mencken famously said it was probably impossible to throw a Bible from the window of a speeding train anywhere in the country without hitting one in the head with it) but why would they all flock to this particular movie about Jesus?

There appear to be two possibilities: One, its graphic violence has great appeal or, two, its rumored anti-Semitism created a "must see" buzz.

Graphic violence? As a fan of both Sam Peckinpah's and Quentin Tarentino's graphically violent works, I appreciated the extreme realism that Gibson endowed his movie with. The sheer brutality of the beatings and the crucifixion are enough to make anyone wince. Christians (especially Catholics) have always had a predilection for depicting the grotesquely cruel circumstances surrounding the death of Jesus, as well as many of the saints. It's unclear to me why this is.

Yes, I know, it shows the pain he went through to redeem mankind, and that's supposed to instill one with religious fervor. But it generally impresses non-Christians as bizarre and sadistic. A peaceful Buddha would seem to be a much more appealing model than a man being tortured to death. But I suppose it was a good trade: A few hours of agony for one person, in return for eternal salvation for billions for eternity. Hell, figuring that we've all got to die someday – and death is mostly gruesome and unsavory by its very nature anyway you cut it – even I'd probably do it. And I'm not noted for my altruism.

Although Christians seem to think the death of Jesus was unique, it was, in fact, rather unexceptional. The Romans crucified scores of thousands of people during their tenure as rulers of the world, and there's reason to believe that execution of Jesus was, if anything, more benign than that of most. The Romans didn't have any particular beef against him – they just did it, basically as a favor, to placate the collaborators among the conquered Jewish population.

I suspect a really gruesome crucifixion would have been that of the captured rebels of Spartacus' rebellion in 76? B.C. If the Romans thought anyone needed crucifixion, it was certainly a bunch of cheeky slaves who laid waste large portions of Italy, and engaged the legions in direct combat. You can bet the legionaries who executed them did so with real enthusiasm.

Anti-Semitism? Although polls indicate that the average American thinks (probably based upon the number of Jewish names he sees in entertainment, media, law, publishing and finance, as well as government) that the United States is about one-third Jewish, the fact is that only 2 percent of Americans are Jews. And many of them no longer take either their ancestors religion or culture very seriously. So I tend to view the controversy over charges of anti-Semitism more as evidence of hysteria than anything else.

In fact, Ashkenazi Jews likely aren't even Semites, but appear to be descendants of a tribe from the Caucasus who were converted to Judaism (as were some Ethiopians) in pre-Roman times. The vast majority of anti-Semitism in the United States today is directed at actual Semites – Arabs in general, and Iraqis in particular. But that's another story.

Sometimes I wonder if someone in Gibson's promotional machine didn't start the ridiculous anti-Semitic story covertly, simply to create a controversy worth millions as a promotion. After all, the most crucial element of success for a movie is to somehow make the public aware that it even exists.

The fact is, Jesus was a threat to the Jewish orthodoxy of the time. In all likelihood, he was just one of many itinerant radicals roaming Palestine preaching an admixture of political, social and religious change (a perfectly normal combination, as evidenced by hundreds of his counterparts today, from Jerry Falwell and Pat Robertson, to the ayatollahs). You have to remember that the Jews were only conquered by the Romans (under Pompey the Great) a few generations earlier, and the Jews probably hated their Roman occupiers even more than the Iraqis hate their American occupiers.

Jesus appears to have been a member of what was known as the Kingdom of God movement, which was intent on replacing the interlopers with a radical homegrown theocracy. Herod, the Pharisees and the other Jews on top of the heap didn't like the Romans, but understood that the status quo was much better than being turned out by some unpredictable reformer.

So, of course, the Jews wanted Jesus crucified. The Jews had Jesus executed not because they were Jews, but because they were relative fat cats trying to save their bacon. And it was in the Romans' interests as well – it speaks well of Pilate that he was even willing to see Jesus, much less give him a sympathetic hearing. Notwithstanding the civilized Pilate, an impartial observer would see the movie as more anti-Roman than anti-Jewish. But it's neither. It just tells the story the last hours of an ideologue who got himself cross-wise with the Powers That Be in a time and a place where that was most inadvisable.

The moral of the stories

When it comes down to moral values, it seems to me that Norse theology is far superior to Christian theology. The Norse virtues speak to nobility and heroism. Values like strength, honor, courage, pride, forthrightness, hospitality, steadfastness and the like, are admired. A proper Viking would see Christian virtues as contemptible vices. Meekness, mildness, benignity, faith, hope, charity, chastity, humility, etc. are habits to be inculcated in slaves. And, indeed, Christianity was viewed as a religion fit only for slaves, as it transformed itself from a localized Jewish cult.

Oddly, but probably inevitably, Christianity quickly mutated into something quite different from what the Gospels say Jesus preached. It wound up providing a moral justification for a culture just as warlike as that of the Vikings. But, unfortunately, by having to use all kinds of convoluted reasoning, it has led to an innate hypocrisy that's always shamed its more thoughtful adherents. Unless they believe in the vengeful Yahweh of the Old Testament as well as the mild Jesus of the new. Or just fall back on how "the devil made me do it."

Looking at their respective values, and general senses of life, one might ask how Christianity ever managed to triumph over traditional Norse and Greco-Roman beliefs. It's a question that deserves a long essay, not a paragraph at the end of an entertainment review. But I think there may be two main reasons. One is the promise of eternal life, in non-specified but, it is implied, idyllic circumstances. Better yet, all one has to do (at least according to some popular variations of Christianity) is to accept a Redeemer, who has already done all the heavy lifting (as described above). That seems like a pretty good deal.

A second reason is that one can make a case that your basic human has something like a slave mentality – it's why most people act like whipped dogs when confronted with authority. So the virtues propounded by the ancient religions seem just too alien, unreachable and psychologically intimidating for them. You could hardly use "The Ride of the Valkyries" as background music for any of the Christian virtues, but at least a "virtue" like humility seems attainable to someone who does as he's told here and now in exchange for living the good life after he dies.

In conclusion, I'll give "Two Thumbs Up" (in the fashion of some popular reviewers) to both Gibson's "Passion" and Wagner's "Ring" – although for different reasons. I'd also recommend you see (on video) Monty Python's "Life of Brian," and "The 13th Warrior" for further insight into Christian and Norse belief systems, respectively.