At The Movies: Martin Scorsese’s Silence

Well, it has taken me much longer than anticipated, but recently I finally caught up with Martin Scorsese’s latest epic, Silence. A quick online search reveals that the film has elicited mixed reviews from a wide range of viewers—both regular filmgoers and film critics—so today I thought I would add my own two cents worth to the discussion. But first, a brief synopsis:

In 17th Century, two Portuguese Jesuit priests Garupe (Adam Driver), and Rodrigues (Andrew Garfield), travel to Japan in search of their mentor and teacher, Father Ferreira (Liam Neeson). The Catholic Church has lost touch with Ferreira, and what is worse, rumour has it that while under duress, Ferreira has committed apostasy (that is, renounced his religious beliefs).

This is the third major film from Martin Scorsese that examines aspects of different religions. The first was his 1988 adaptation of the Nikos Kazantzakis novel, The Last Temptation of Christ, and the second was the 1997 film Kundun, which is based on the life and writings of Tenzin Gyatso, the 14th Dalai Lama. Of course, if you have been following Scorsese’s career from the beginning, you might remember the open scenes of his breakthrough film Mean Streets (1973), which begins with Harvey Keitel’s character, Charlie, in church holding his hand over a burning candle, while ruminating on Catholic guilt and redemption, a theme that crops up throughout the film. But back to Silence.

The two young priests refuse to believe that Father Ferreira’s apostasy was due to the torture and abuse he received at the hands of his Japanese authorities. They are convinced that their mentor would never apostatise no matter how severe the suffering he was forced to undergo. Firmly convicted of this belief, the two men make the perilous journey to Japan to search for Ferreira and to continue spreading the Catholic view of the Gospels to the Japanese peasants they encounter. 

Things progress well enough for a while, but with the Japanese authorities closing in on their hiding place, the two priests separate in the hope they might evade their pursuers at least for a while longer. At this point in the film Adam Driver/Garupe disappears for pretty much the rest of the movie and attention is focused on Andrew Garfield/Rodrigues.

A powerful moment between Andrew Garfield/Rodrigues and a villager played by Shin'ya Tsukamoto.

To begin with, I was not convinced that Andrew Garfield—who carried two-thirds of the film on his shoulders—was up to the task, but as the film progressed, I was drawn further and further into what became a very powerful, and believable performance. Of course, he is soon captured by the authorities and before long his own faith is tested in ways that he (and we the audience), never imagined possible.

To my surprise, apart from the opening scenes filmed in the Cathedral of Saint Paul in Macau, China, the rest of the film shoot took place on various locations on the island of Taiwan. The cinematography is stunning throughout, and as you might expect from a master storyteller like Scorsese, he is in complete control of his actors and the story he wants to tell. 

Since I am not a practising (or lapsed Catholic), and indeed since I hold no religious affiliations whatsoever, I did feel somewhat removed from the emotional heart of this film. I was certainly able to appreciate the film on an intellectual level, but at certain points during the film I could not escape the voice in my head that insisted on reminding me about the cultural imperialism of the Catholic Church, and its often brutal proselytising among other cultures that were, and have been perfectly happy with their own homegrown religious practices. Of course, this ‘going out into the world to convert the heathen’ was not confined to the Catholic Church. The proselytising of today’s Mormons, Jehovah’s Witnesses, and representatives of other faiths shows that while the language may be different, the aims are still the same.

The wonderful Issei Ogata in his role as the old samurai.

However there are other lessons to engage the non-believer and agnostic in Silence. Reflecting on the film and the nature of belief, I couldn't help thinking about the current crisis plaguing Europe and other parts of the Western world. I am referring to the rise of Islamic extremism, and the ongoing ‘war on terror’ that Western governments and their extensive security forces, are no closer to winning today than they were following the invasion of Iraq in 2003, or for that matter since the terrorist attacks on New York City, and elsewhere in America on September 11, 2001.

It seems to me that just as the Jesuit priests of the 17th Century were prepared to face the harshest conditions imaginable, as well as the trials and tribulations meted out to them by local authorities intent on protecting their own positions of power, so too are the foot-soldiers of the Islamic State, Al Qaeda, the Taliban in Afghanistan, Boko Haram in Nigeria, the Moro Islamists in the Philippines, Indonesia’s Jemaah lslamiyah, and other murderous Islamic splinter groups. 

It also seems to me that just as the Jesuit priests in Silence refused to renounce their faith in the Catholic Church and their God, so too are hundreds of Islamic fundamentalists confined to prison systems around the world refusing to renounce their own beliefs and faith in the tenets of Islam, as interpreted by their local religious leaders. Should we be surprised at their dedication to their various causes? Should we applaud the commitment to their faith? Or should we inflict so much suffering and pain on them that they are forced to recant and deny their own Gods?

And yes, dear reader, I am well aware that the vast majority of the world’s Christians are not strapping suicide vests to themselves and blowing up concert goers in Manchester and Paris, or gunning down diners relaxing in restaurants and cafés, or driving cars and trucks at high speed through suburban streets running down pedestrians. However, I am also aware that a study of Christianity reveals a history of murderous inquisitions, bloody Crusades, and death by stoning, beheading, fire and more.

A still from the crucifixion scene.

While it may seem that I have trodden a path well away from the one I started out on, that is, a review of the film, Silence, I am not so sure. After all, the film explores the nature of faith, belief and God, and the consequences of sticking to those beliefs—or not as the case may be—no matter what. It should be said that the film also examines the nature of love, betrayal and forgiveness.  

Despite its length (160 minutes), Silence is a film that can bear repeated viewings, not only for the excellent acting, stunning locations and beautiful cinematography, but also for the opportunity it gives the viewer for reflection and contemplation. There is much to appreciate in Silence, and I am delighted that I had a chance to see the film in a cinema with a big screen, which allowed me to appreciate its scope and grandeur even more.

If you haven’t seen the film, here is the official trailer to help wet your appetite.

More Information

IMDb entry for Silence…

Wikipedia entry for Silence… 

Film Comment Interview with Martin Scorsese…

In Review: Gone To New York

~ I have only read one other book by Ian Frazier, and that was his paean to the American prairies called Great Plains - a book I thoroughly enjoyed and reviewed here…

When I saw a copy of his 2005 collection of essays about New York City, Gone to New York: Adventures in the City making the decision to buy it was easy.

Gone to New York collects together twenty-two essays that examine aspects of life in New York City that are by turns, poignant, funny, serious, and insightful. The essays come from a variety of magazine sources, including the Atlantic, and The New Yorker, for which Ian Frazier continues to write as he has since 1973. Each story in the book contains a year of publication, and these range from Antipodes (1975), to the 2005 essay, Out of Ohio.

Along the way we meet a succession of New Yorkers, each of which is unique in their own way. There’s George Willig, the man who scaled the World Trade Center in 1977 using handmade clamping devices; we learn about Clifford Holland, that man for whom the Holland Tunnel is named;  we meet Martin Tytell, who at 83 years of age in 1997 (when the essay Typewriter Man was written), may have been the last manual typewriter repair man in New York City. We visit crime scenes, take bus rides, walk Canal Street, and stop to remove plastic bags from trees.

Two of the most touching stories are To Mr. Winslow (1993), and Street Scene (1995). In the first essay, Frazier writes about Allyn Winslow, a forty-two-year-old drama teacher who was shot and killed one June morning, after refusing to hand his new bicycle over to four teenagers. In three brief pages, Frazier documents the creation of a memorial to Mr. Winslow, that appears over several days on the exact spot at which he died. He records items as they are added to the memorial by locals, who in most cases didn’t know Allyn Winslow personally, but who were still moved to remember his passing.

Then, over a period of five months, Frazier traces the gradual breakdown of the memorial as summer rains, vandalism, ongoing park maintenance, and winter storms slowly eliminate signs of the original location, so that eventually all trace of it disappears. And thus, with its final disappearance, one is left to wonder if anyone―apart from the writer―still remembers Mr Winslow.

Image courtesy of Bag Snaggers...

[Image Right: The actress and singer, Bette Midler using a Bag Snagger to remove plastic from a New York City tree. Background to this photo is recounted in the essay, Bags in Trees: A Retrospective.]

In Street Scene, Frazier watches as a woman administers mouth-to-mouth resuscitation to an elderly woman who lies on a Brooklyn sidewalk. Assisting her is a young male who counts off “One, two, three, four, five,” as he in turn administers chest compressions in an attempt to keep the elderly lady alive. Eventually, an Emergency Medical Service truck arrives and the paramedics take over the life-saving work of the volunteer rescuers. Ian Frazier watches as the male and female part without a word, and go their separate ways. At least Frazier has enough presence of mind to approach the man to thank him for what he had done.

He then runs after the woman, who was by now well down the block: I tapped her shoulder and she turned and I said thank you. Her eyes were full of what had just happened. There were tears on her upper cheeks. She said something like, “Oh, of course, don’t mention it.” She was … an ordinary-looking person, but glowing beautifully.

Earlier this month in my piece Reflections From The Window Seat, I asked the question, “…when you travel, where do you prefer to sit: window, aisle or middle seat?.” I added that I am definitely a window seat traveller, and went on to elaborate further about why. In Frazier’s essay, Route 3, I was delighted to read this: I usually travel to and from the city by bus. Most bus commuters sensibly occupy themselves with newspapers, laptops, CD players, and so on. I always try to get a window seat and then look at the scenery. If this were a ride at an amusement park, I would pay to go on it.

Frazier then goes on to describe in detail the bus journey along Route 3 between his home and the city, and I got a lot of satisfaction knowing that I had found a kindred spirit when it came to the joys of window seat travel. Even if the journey was only between workplace and home.

It probably isn’t necessary to be a New Yorker, or to have visited the city, to get the most out of the twenty-two essays in Gone To New York, but it helps. Having said that, most people reading this have been to New York City, if only through the medium of Hollywood movies and countless television shows. It should not be too hard to imagine yourself walking along Canal Street with Ian Frazier, as he points out some of the streets quirkier characters, and grumbles about the plastic bag tangled in the branches of the tree you are passing under. Speaking of which, here is an American television news item which includes Ian Frazier and his friend Bill McClelland using a Bag Snagger to remove plastic from trees.

Gone to New York: Adventures in the City is a delightful read, and is well worth seeking out either online, or through your local bookstore.

More Information

Ian Frazier at Wikipedia…

At The New Yorker…

At The Atlantic…

Ian Frazier on Facebook…

Bag Snaggers.Com…

In Review: For Liberty and Glory

Over the past year or two, I have rekindled my interest in history and some of the greatest events of the past several hundred years.

Because of my two extended visits to America I have been particularly interested in the early history of the United States, and have read numerous books charting the birth and development of that nation, and have many others I hope to read as time allows.

For Liberty and Glory: Washington, Lafayette, and Their Revolutions by James R. Gaines deals with two of the most important revolutionary periods in American and French history, and the two principal players in both those revolutions.

Across 500 pages Gaines traces the parallel paths of George Washington, the first President of the newly formed United States, and the Marquis de Lafayette, the man who could have been the first president of the French Republic, but who refused the position.

Although I was familiar with some American place names bearing the name Lafayette and Fayetteville, and had walked along

Lafayette Street

in Manhattan on numerous occasions, I must admit to being completely ignorant of the Marquis de Lafayette, and the role he played in both the American and French revolutions.

I don’t know if every American city or town bearing the name Fayette, Fayetteville, and Lafayette owe their title to the Marquis de Lafayette, but it is entirely possible. Certainly,  innumerable streets, avenues, French and American naval vessels, educational institutions, US counties, subway stations, parks and city squares, and other landmarks do owe their names to him.

Lafayette, whose full name was the jaw breaking, Marie-Joseph Paul Yves Roch Gilbert du Motier, Marquis de La Fayette (and who shall, for the sake of brevity, hereafter be referred to mostly as Lafayette), was a French aristocrat and military officer, who at the age of just 19 years sailed to the New World to join the American Revolutionary War against France’s age-old enemy, Britain. In the process he became one of George Washington’s closest aides and confidante’s and one the American revolution’s most well-known, and well regarded generals.

Amazon reader review:

 “For those who know much about Washington but less about Lafayette, I cannot recommend this story highly enough. Touching [and] at times, poignant, it is not only informative but is indeed a joy to read.” ~ Deborah C. Galiano (Picayune, MS)

Lafayette, himself was wounded at the Battle of Brandywine in Pennsylvania, not long after his arrival in America, and played a major role in several other important battles. He was also in charge of French troops during the final battle of the war, which saw the defeat and surrender of Lord Cornwallis at Yorktown, Virginia in 1781.

Having read virtually nothing about either the French or the American revolutions, I didn’t realize – until reading For Liberty and Glory just how indebted the fledgling American nation was for the support of the French. Successive French kings helped bankroll the American revolution, and hundreds of French officers and thousands of soldiers and sailors took part in some of the most crucial battles of the American Revolutionary War.

Ironically, French participation in the American Revolutionary War helped sow the seeds for the French Revolution which saw the overthrow of King Louis XVI (16th), in October 1789. The royal treasury had borrowed millions of livres (the French currency at the time), and was heavily indebt as a result. The only recourse the court at Versailles had to repay its massive debt was to raise taxes and prices on essential foods like bread, which only helped fuel the call for the overthrow of the King.

Compounding the royal court’s problems, were the hundreds of French officers and thousands of French troops and sailors returning from America, most of whom were infused with the idea of, and support for a French Republic. And none was more committed to this cause than the Marquis de Lafayette.

Amazon reader review:

 “… this book is one of the better ones on the American Revolution that I've read in recent years, and it's very well done. I would recommend it to anyone even slightly interested in the subject.” ~ David W. Nicholas (Montrose, CA)

James R. Gaines is a wonderful storyteller, and skillfully weaves together the major players on these two revolutionary stages. No stone appears to be left unturned, no letter unread, and no intrigue left unexamined. The highs and lows of both revolutions are examined in great detail, and again I learned much about the French revolution that had previously been unknown to me.

I knew about the fall of the Bastille, the tumbrel laden carts filled with hapless Frenchmen and women on their way to the guillotine, and the eventual death by guillotine of Louis XVI and Marie Antoinette. But I didn’t realize just how widespread and horrifying the bloodshed became, as the various forces battled for the control of France. I knew next to nothing about the Reign of Terror (1793-1794) unleashed by Robespierre, which according to archival records show that over 16,500 people died under the guillotine, although some historians note that as many as 40,000 accused prisoners may have been summarily executed without trial or died awaiting trial.

In the end Robespierre himself went to the guillotine in 1794, but that didn’t end the slaughter in France until the French Revolution finally came to an end five years later in 1795.

There is so much to recommend For Liberty and Glory: Washington, Lafayette, and Their Revolutions by James R. Gaines. In deed, I am now looking for a good book or two about the French Revolution in particular, since I am sure there is much more to learn about that period in French history.

***** Highly Recommended.

Amazon reader review:

“Gaines' book is a highly readable, insightful and incredibly interesting look at the American and French Revolutions through the lives of Washington and Lafayette.” ~ B. Calhoun (Portland, OR)

Click here to purchase For Liberty And Glory: Washington, Lafeyette, and Their Revolutions... from Amazon.Com.