Faith in Times Of Violence

I sat alone in The Moviehouse upstairs theater at the late showing of “Of Gods and Men” and wondered what keeps audiences away from serious foreign “art” films. No doubt throngs were filling the seats for the likes of “Thor” and “Bridesmaids.” What they were missing was a gripping and probing examination of the meaning of faith amidst violence, free will versus absolute commitment, and whether love can triumph over evil. On a more concrete level, “Of Gods and Men” offers moviegoers a chance to take in true mastery of the medium: cinematography that is not only beautiful but aids and abets the story; dialogue that is at once natural, multilayered, and profound; pacing and direction that make a disquieting yet uplifting mood. Based on a true story of French Trappist monks in Algeria who were kidnapped and murdered in 1996, Xavier Beauvois’ film was a multiple-award-winner, taking second prize at Cannes last year. One of its first shots is of an old monk, shown from the back, slowly making his way down a hallway of the monastery with a mop. Such scenes of quotidian existence — ­cooking, cleaning, growing food, praying, a priest/doctor caring for sick villagers — recur frequently throughout the movie. More than just the warp and woof of everyday monastic life, they represent an orderly progression toward both death and spiritual awakening. In stark contrast, episodes of increasing violence perpetrated by both Islamic extremists and government troops locked in an escalating civil war connote a chaotic, unpredictable and godless world. As these horrors grow ever closer to the monastery, they present the monks with a divisive dilemma, whether to abandon their home and calling or to remain and face certain death. The camera’s shifting perspective, beginning with that shot from behind and gradually, scene by scene, taking us closer into the faces and eyes of the brothers, is a key to the drama. From near-anonymous figures, the monks become fully formed characters, more human and flawed than godlike (hence the film’s title). In fact, the movie is not afraid to implicate the missionaries, and the former colonial masters whom they represent, in the troubles of their adopted country. A cast of astonishing actors, mostly unknown to American audiences, allows us to feel as if we are looking deep into their souls. Lambert Wilson as Christian, head of the monastery, Michael Lonsdale as Luc, the doctor, and Olivier Rabourdin (who may be familiar from his role as the Parisian police chief in “Taken”) as the conflicted monk Christophe are the standouts. An indelible, wordless scene involving a dinner, a Last Supper, really, accompanied by the incongruous, tragic music of “Swan Lake,” drives the movie toward its heartbreaking conclusion. Is the coming transformation sensual, made of flesh? Or is it made of more holy stuff? Sometimes movies do not need to be “feel-good” comedies or feature 3D explosions to give us cinematic satisfaction. I hope more people will join me in my lonely vigil and help keep small, independent, foreign, and art films alive and well in our community.“Of Gods and Men” is rated PG-13 for startling wartime violence, some disturbing images and brief language. If you miss it locally, look for it on DVD.