I have not read the novel on which this film was based, but
I have read enough Flannery O’Connor to know that it represents her literature
well.
The film is about religion.
Not about spirituality, but religion—with its contradictions,
misunderstandings and rough-and-tumble viewpoint. It is about the South. The small town, the small city, the polite
veneer, the prejudices mixed with pride.
It is about simple people.
Not one-note characters, but people who struggle with life because they
haven’t thought everything through, because they haven’t got enough control
over themselves to really assist others.
You have our main character, Hazel, whose anger against God and demands
that he be redeemed warp his sense of reality.
You have the blind preacher who isn’t really blind and doesn’t really
believe in the tracts he hands out. You
have his daughter who knows she needs a man to survive and only knows one way
to get him. You have the landlady whose
greatest desire is to help someone in need, which becomes her desperate
need. And you have the huckster, who
knows a good con when he sees one, even if the one perpetuating it is
desperately sincere.
And finally, there is the ugly aspects of Flannery
O’Connor’s works. In an essay I read of
hers, she speaks of the Southern “necessity” of their literature being
“gruesome”. It is interesting that John
Huston has the ugly plot points, but he doesn’t make them visually ugly. He is not even leading us to imagine the ugly
scenes which he has off screen. It would
be a very Christian film, if it were not the fact that the religious themes
were so difficult to determine.
Hazel is a man in desperate need of redemption, and he not
only rejects Christ, but also the need of redemption itself. We need not repent, we need no blood, we need
no two-thousand year old death to save us, because, Hazel preaches, we need no
salvation. We are complete, we are fit,
we are sufficient in and of ourselves.
However, the entire film, ever character, every event shows the lie of
this message.
Every person in this film is religious, almost all claim
Christ in some way. Even Hazel, who
denies the effectiveness of Christ is haunted by him, sees him in the very
fabric of life. And even though he
denies the fact of redemption, he cannot stop thinking about it, talking about
it, like an atheist who cannot stop speaking about the existence of God. It is clear that religion is doing none of
these people good. It is as much a block
between them and healing as their own desperate clutching of their needs.
Spoilers below
There are two questions that stay with me at the end of this
film. The first is: given the need of
redemption, did anyone find it? Clearly
Hazel goes through a remarkable character arc, in which he learns about his own
need, but did his solution, his repentance really cause his redemption? Or was his self-mutilation and self-denial
just another way of taking advantage of others?
The other question is one that Huston and the writers
struggled with: Does Christ win, in the end?
The screenwriters opined that he did, but it isn’t clear that Huston
agreed. Perhaps Christ won in the sense
that Hazel, and most of the rest of the characters, recognized the need for
redemption by the end of the film. But
if Christ is about redeeming people, not just making them want redemption, then
not a single soul was saved in this film.
All are left in as much agony as they began—some more so.
I’d say that Christ, just like everyone else in this film,
lost.
However, to see this struggle, to pose questions that
otherwise could not be posed, to open our eyes to the struggle of redemption
that is happening all around us—for these reasons and more I’d say that this
film is more than worthwhile watching.
Some great thoughts. I'd add the most important element you didn't touch on is the car. Hazel says that no man with a running car needs to be saved. It's the self-reliant, pull yourself up by your own bootstraps mentality that ends up teetering off the edge by the end.
ReplyDeleteBy the end, Hazel recognizes there's a price to pay, that he does need to be saved. But even then, he can't accept the grace of Christ, he has to pay penance, the various rituals of anguish and pain are hollow attempts to save himself.
I'd say Christ triumphant exists in O'Connor's world, but he's, as she puts it "Later he saw Jesus move from tree to tree in the back of his mind, a wild ragged figure motioning him to turn around and come off into the dark where he might be walking on the water and not know it and then suddenly know it and drown."
He's there, but in an religious Evangelical South, O'Connor recognizes that the system has been so deeply institutionalized with self-salvation, self-works and self-justification, that the grace of Christ is often the undoing of her protagonists, the Biblical stumbling block.
"You act like you think you got wiser blood than anybody else, but you ain't!"
Perfect, James. I didn't put the car into the whole film. That was just what I needed.
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