"Better a fallen rocket than never a burst of light."
~ Tom Stoppard, The Invention of Love

Saturday, July 12, 2014

Further thoughts on C.O.G.

 
I didn’t get a chance to get to it yesterday, but I want to talk about the way C.O.G. addresses religion.  For a film, the portrayal is surprisingly complex, and the fact that the whole story is viewed through the eyes of a young gay man who’s an atheist makes it all the more noteworthy.
 
David’s first encounters with Christianity begin immediately in small ways – he summarily dismisses an ex-con convert who accosts him on the bus, and at the orchard’s living quarters, he awkwardly slips into bed while the mostly Roman Catholic migrant workers are kneeling in prayer.  When he first meets Jon, an artist/sidewalk evangelist who is equal parts tenacious, affable, and irritating, David shuts him down at every turn.  However, when he’s in a tight part and in need of help, Jon offers it no questions asked.
 
Jon is a fantastic character, complicated and ridiculous and full of dramatic potential.  He’s 90% relentlessly cheerful and 10% kneejerk vicious.  With almost no thought at all, he takes David in and enlists him as an “apprentice” in his makeshift studio, making pieces to sell at an upcoming fair.  He teaches David everything he knows about his artform (carving jade) and shares his living space, his colorful past (complete with alcoholism, a prosthetic leg, and a rock-bottom come-to-Jesus moment,) and his religion.  Throughout their time together, he not-so-subtly nudges David toward Christianity – asking pointed questions, waking him at 6:30 for Sunday-morning church services, and praying aloud before work every day.  He’s a little kooky, and he assures David that “it’s all right to joke with the Lord” because “He likes it.”
 
On the other hand, Jon’s idea of Christianity is pretty skewed.  He tends to equate Christianity with charity; he’s full of brotherly love and good will when a fellow church family opens their doors to him, but the minute they hint that his welcome is wearing thin, they’re no longer “good Christians” in his eyes.  His own charitable spirit, however, is ultimately conditional.  The film lays enough groundwork for this that it’s clear David’s position is precarious, and yet it’s still shocking when a perceived slight from David prompts a stark reveal of Jon’s ugly side.  It’s one of those movie moments that has you holding your breath, and you simply can’t look away.
 
Jon provides the film’s most prominent and most nebulous handling of Christianity, but he’s not alone.  Martha, one half of the couple that houses Jon and David for a time, treats David kinder than anyone else in the movie.  On her part, we see honest concern and caring with no real agenda.  Whether she’s performing hosting duties, helping David with the tie for his borrowed church clothes, or gently hinting that she knows of his family troubles, she’s a calming presence in his life and captures a simple but genuine spirit of Christianity. 
 
And of course, there’s the scene in which David finally comes forward in church to accept Christ.  It’s not entirely clear why he does it – if he believes, if he’s in a dark place and desperate for a home, if he’s caught up in the moment – but it’s so interesting.  David is perhaps barer than we’ve ever seen him as he stands before the crowd and begs God for forgiveness.  Yet, at the same time, this new family is unknowingly denouncing him at the same time it welcomes him, as the pastor encourages him to ask God to help him find a wonderful woman, get married, and have children.  There’s just so much to mull over.  Considering the number of films that offer up very flat depictions of Christianity, I really appreciate it.

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