The film is about Father James, a
good priest in a small Irish town. On an average Sunday, he is told that he
will be murdered in one week by one of his parishioners because that
parishioner was brutally raped as a boy by a priest. This man believes that
killing a good priest will garner more attention than killing a bad one. Now,
Father James has a week to put his affairs in order – but he also has a few
choices. He knows who has threatened him. He could go to the police; he could
flee; or, he could speak to this person and try and change their mind.
Unintentionally – let us call it
a happy accident or fortunate coincidence – the last film I saw before seeing
Calvary was The
Passion of Joan of Arc (which I was revisiting, having not seen it in a few
years). The two films make quite good companion pieces. The Passion of Joan of
Arc is about Jeanne d’Arc’s trial, torture, and execution (burnt at the stake)
at the hands of ecclesiastical jurists. Each film has a similar profound duality
to it. In The Passion of Joan of Arc, Carl Theodor Dreyer’s
direction presents the Catholic jurists in a very unflattering light. They do
not know what to do with Jeanne, so they try to trick her and hurt her until
she confesses to not being an instrument of God, but rather of Satan. They want
to absolve themselves of responsibility (through historical context, we also
know that they were under tremendous pressure by the English to find her guilty
of heresy). The film does not take a kind view of the Catholic Church (if these
are its learned representatives), but at the same time Jeanne is an incredibly
pious and inspiring young woman (believed to be about nineteen at the time of
her death). Her devotion to her faith is palpable and true. She is completely
uncorrupt. She presents a vision of someone who has embraced God’s pure love,
unshaken in her conviction even in the face of absolute cruelty and hate. The
film exhibits the ugliness of religion and its beauty. So too does Calvary.
It is clear that writer-director John Michael McDonagh
has a cynical view of the Catholic Church. The film is ripe with constant
reminders of the Catholic Church’s crimes. The Church is to some extent only as
good as the people who represent it. Here, Father James is a very good and
understanding priest, but he has a dark side as well (his wife died young; his
daughter feels abandoned by him; and he is an alcoholic). Father Leary (the
other priest in the town) is fairly incompetent and probably should even not be
a priest to begin with (it does not appear to really be his calling). As Father
James makes his rounds around town, he is bombarded with the negative
implications that his vocation seems to imply. He visits a cannibal in prison
who asks him why God would make him the way he is. He is accosted by an angry
father for walking near a young girl, not because he was behaving in any
inappropriate way but because there is a stigma about priests and children. His
friends like to remind him of the evils the Catholic Church has undertaken
throughout time (and there are many). And yet, even though he is continually
persecuted for his faith, he is still a good man, always willing to try and
help his flock. McDonagh is unkind to the Catholic Church (which is not an
unfair sentiment to have, given their history and current state), but even so
he has made the film’s most authentically good person a priest. Like The
Passion of Joan of Arc, Calvary has a duality. Despite all that is wrong and
ugly, there is still goodness and beauty in faith. Both films, however, seem to
put the emphasis on the individual as having the choice to be good or bad while
the group (the Church) is by its own nature corrupt. The individual’s faith in
God can be pure and beautiful, but that faith is corrupted by the institution
of organized religion. Father James is aware of this but would rather look at
the good in people than focus on the sins, much like McDonagh with his film.
The sins (of man, the Church, society, and so on) are plainly present, but even
so there is still something that can be beautiful about faith (and man). There
can be goodness amongst all the rotten.
Calvary is structured in a very
interesting manner by McDonagh. The film is very linear, counting down each day
until the Sunday in which Father James is supposed to die. Calvary, as a title,
implies that the film will detail a narrative of great suffering, maybe even
one ending in crucifixion (literally or metaphorically); and thus, there is no
happy ending for Father James from the start. McDonagh fills the film with
Catholic symbolism. The film can be read as playing out the Stations of the
Cross. Father James is condemned to death. He decides not to inform the police,
instead carrying on with his work (thereby carrying his burden – his cross). He
faces his failures: he tries to make amends with his daughter, he visits his
former pupil who became a murderer in prison, and he succumbs to his drinking.
He loses many of his most personal processions: his church is burnt down, his
beloved dog is murdered, and his daughter leaves him to return to her home
(although, they do find reconciliation). He tries to help Veronica Brennan, a
loose woman in town who has been knocked around. He tries to help Teresa, a
foreigner whose husband has just been killed by a drunk driver. He tries to
help Michael Fitzgerald, a wealthy man who feels like life is meaningless and
is emotionally detached (he was in finance, making millions off the losses of
others, but not seeks some sort of redemption). He tries to help Father Leary
realize that being a priest is not his true vocation. And finally, Father James
is murdered.
McDonagh also explores the five
stages of grief in the film (denial, anger, bargaining, depression, and acceptance).
Certain characters seem to be personifications of these stages. As Father James
makes his rounds around town, interacting with these characters, he seems to be
witnessing people in different stages of grief in terms of their reaction to
being letdown by the promise of life (and maybe even the promise of God or the
promise of the Church). Life (God and the Church) promises to be a beautiful
and wondrous thing that will bring you happiness and satisfaction, but then the
reality sets in that life is really just a meaningless, tedious march towards
death, with moments of happiness only existing as fleeting distractions – and they
are hardly ever pure. The world is ugly and hard, just as God appears uncaring
and cruel and the Church corrupt and greedy. Yet, Father James exemplifies that
despite this darkness there can still be good and that meaning can be derived
from our interactions with each other.
Father James too must come to terms
with his own grief – be it over the loss of his wife, the pain his daughter
lives with, or his own impending death. He decides to face his death because he
has accepted that he must die to provide healing, both for the man who was
wronged by the Church and to the Church itself. Maybe with his death, the Church
will try to reform instead of constantly side stepping difficult truths. This
is all interpretation, however, as Father James never explicitly informs the
audience of why he decides to face his killer on the beach. Even though it does
seem like Father James has accepted his fate, there is still a hint of hope
that the man can be consoled and can forgive the Church.
In addition to all this heavy symbolism
and drama, Calvary also has a wickedly black sense of humor and strangeness to
it. The film is often very funny, but in an off sort of way. The characters
that occupy McDonagh’s world are almost all odd ducks. The small Irish town is in
a sense almost a surreal place, as its only inhabitants seem to be these bizarre
people, who all seem to drift towards the fringes of society. Only Teresa, a
foreigner, seems like a normal decent person. Fiona, Father James’s daughter
too seems normal, except she has recently just attempted suicide and is clearly
a damaged person. Father James, in this way, thusly seems to reside over a flock
of broken people. He cannot run away because they need him.
The film is also aesthetically quite
striking, with brilliant photography, design, writing, acting, and music.
Tonally, everything works well together. The only slight flaw is the film’s
pacing. McDonagh seems to deliberately pace the film to be very slow, giving a
sense of weight to each day that passes. He also wants to make time for each of
his wonderful scenes (usually an interaction between Father James and one of
the other characters – speaking about some matter that really veils something
completely different). The pacing works for the most part, especially when the
film is considered as a whole, but in the moment there are parts that do seem
to drag. The quirky nature and seemingly cynical approach to the Catholic
Church will also put some viewers off.
McDonagh does a good job creating
his characters. The supporting characters are odd, as stated above, yet have a
certain depth to them. Initially, they seem like caricatures, exaggerated for
effect, but as the film plays out a deeper side is revealed and they feel much
more fleshed out. Father James is a great character. He is troubled, yet
strives to be good and just. His darkness, however, makes him more relatable,
because we too are imperfect, just trying to do our best.
Calvary is not a film for
everyone – far from it – but for those with a dark sense of humor and an
appetite for complex and thought-provoking drama and emotions, it is well worth
seeing. It is in many ways a brilliant piece.
Technical,
aesthetic & acting achievements: John Michael McDonagh has two
strong features to his name now with Calvary and The Guard. He
has a great talent for black comedy, garnering strong performances, and writing
fantastic dialog. I look forward to his next film.
Composer Patrick Cassidy’s
score plays on the more tonally heavy nature of the film – the emotional toll
of facing one’s own death as well as sounding influenced by music played during
church services. It also features local Irish singing. Larry Smith’s
cinematography is very good. He works in mostly darker tones, and the film
features many beautiful landscape shots. There is not much color in the film’s
palette, but when some does sneak in (like the church fire) it is quite
striking by contrast. It is excellent work. Mark Geraghty’s
production design is very simple and quiet in the film. His sets feel very
naturalistic, which works well in allowing these eccentric characters to still
feel grounded by their surroundings.
The cast is excellent in Calvary.
David Wilmot,
Marie-Josee
Croze, M.
Emmet Walsh, Isaach De Bankole,
Pat Shortt,
Killian Scott,
and Orla O’Rourke
are all very good in small supporting roles. Domhnall Gleeson
gives a standout performance (though it is short) as cannibal Freddie Joyce.
His energy is so electric and creepy. Dylan Moran
plays an arrogant twit fantastically, yet there is such an inner sadness to him
as well. Aiden
Gillen too is fantastic at playing a complete bastard; though with his
character, there does not seem to be remorse or sadness. He seems to be the way
he is just to get a rise out of people (and maybe a little anger in there too).
Kelly Reilly
is very good at playing damaged characters. Here, she plays Fiona with equal
measures of sadness and hope for the future; though she attempted suicide, she
is nonetheless one of the stronger people in Father James’s life. Chris O’Dowd
is wonderful in the film, giving probably his best performance to date. There
is such anger and sadness and frustration behind his seemingly friendly and
playful nature. It is very good work from him. Brendan Gleeson
too gives a marvelous performance as Father James. He plays the man almost as
if he were from a different genre, as though he were a no-nonsense sheriff in a
western, but along with his gruff demeanor there is a true heart wanting to
help. It is among the best work I have seen this year.
Summary
& score: Calvary mixes its fiendish sense of humor and strangeness
with its intensely emotional and provocative drama. The result is a film that
is utterly compelling and challenging on multiple levels. 8/10
