Dogma
Initial misgivings: Dogma opens with a series of text-laden title cards meant to head off at the pass any righteous Christians in the audience who, despite having stood in queue and are seated with popcorn in hand, might somehow have forgotten that, ya know, it's only a movie. Smith's apologia mimicks the opening to Monty Python's Holy Grail, but whether it's a thematic homage or just a cheap rip-off, its defensive tone makes it far less effective.
But suddenly, we are treated to Matt Damon browbeating a nun with his sub-textual reading of Lewis Carroll's "The Walrus and the Carpenter," wherein he finds that the principal characters represent Buddah and Jesus, respectively, and believes their gustatory genocide of the oysters is a potent metaphor for organized religion's aim of controlling the masses. Now that's clever. Unfortunately, Dogma teeters like this throughout its too-long running length; one minute it's an incisive, thought-provoking diatribe by the forgotten 13th apostle about the codification of belief, the next it's a demon made of feces rising up from a tavern's lavatory.
So ultimately, which is Dogma? A smart satire or a pile of crap? Hard to say. Kevin Smith is repeatedly called a brilliant writer by the cinematic press-at-large, but until he drops the sophomoric humor and learns to write one single line of believable dialogue for women, he seems to me to be an emotionally stunted, intermittently penetrating satirist. And his insistence on including Jay and (himself as) Silent Bob in every film is a stunt that might thrill his ardent fans, but makes me weary despite Jay's occasional laugh-out-loud outrageousness. He at least has begun to realize that framing a scene might involve something more than pointing the camera at the action and shouting same, but as a director and actor, Smith remains an interesting screenwriter.
Having grown up in the Catholic Church (and subsequently lapsed into secular humanism with the philosophy minor to prove it), there are few things I enjoy more than a vigorous religious debate. On this score, I found Dogma's dogma exciting and fresh. When Chris Rock as the 13th Apostle explains that God thinks ideas are more valuable than beliefs because ideas are flexible but beliefs are intolerant and lead to war, prejudice and fanaticism, I wanted to stand up and cheer. The predictable knee-jerk opposition of some hard-line Christians to the film sight unseen only serves to proves Smith's point that organized faith closes its eyes and ears to any opposing viewpoints, but those who give Dogma a chance will find that a) yes, it's irreverent in both senses of the word, but b) it's clearly directed by a believer. Smith made this movie as an abrasive wake-up call to the faith, not a nihilistic rejection of it. He's poking fun as only someone who intimately knows his subject can (including a great Davey and Goliath reference for those who remember the Biblical claymation series), and although the poking can feel more like a bayonet than a finger, there hasn't been a movie so steeped in religion since The Apostle.
After all, the cast stars two angels, demons, fallen muses, apostles, the Voice of God, the last surviving relative of Christ, and even God Herself (you heard me right). The characters discuss ancient biblical tracts and papal encyclicals as if they were the latest episode of ER, and throw around terms like "plenary indulgence" with ease. And the premise is ripe with possibility - two fallen angels discover a loophole in Catholic dogma that will allow them to sneak back into heaven, but in doing so they would prove God fallible and hence unmake the universe. Jesus' descendent (unaware of her lineage) is chosen to stop them. You've likely heard that she works in an abortion clinic, that the two angels go on a righteous killing spree destroying all Commandment breakers, etc. The satire works; the broad comedy (Jay's crude misogyny, Smith's scatological bent) often does not.
By trying to be compelling to such disparate groups as reasonable Christians, gentle critics of the Church and 8th graders, Dogma hamstrings itself with hokey acting (the Last Scion's "Why me" wailing is way contrived) and characters that are no more than mouthpieces for Smith's rhetoric. On the plus side, the dialogue is erratically great and ending is actually kinda sweet, with Smith reminding us that forgiveness is at the heart of Christianity (which I might be cynically inclined to view as Smith's way of absolving himself from some of the more outrageous swipes he takes at the Church). Dogma is bold, but deeply flawed - as a collection of ideas and witty satire it's a winner, but as a narrative comic fable....well, let's just say I'd have preferred to sit down with Smith over a beer and argue about whether Genesis 4:7 indicates that humans are given free will.
- Jared O'Connor
MOVIES
All Content © 1997, 1998, 1999 Jared O'Connor and Michael Baker