The Passion of Mel

In my review of Apocalypto, I posed the question of whether the traditionalist motifs Mel Gibson wove into the film were really just a moral gloss on an excuse to indulge in his love of primal mayhem. Rod Dreher hasn’t seen the movie, but based on previous Gibson films, he seems to think the answer is yes:

I suspect that Gibson is … indulging his passion for savagery -- a passion he might not fully understand -- and attempting to justify it by saying that he intends it for a moral purpose. If he knows what he's doing, he's a hypocrite. But if he doesn't -- and my guess is that he is blind to his real motives -- then he's a tragic figure.

He then references my review, particularly the line “Apocalypto simultaneously celebrates both man’s peaceful, communal side and his most primal, violent instincts,” and responds, simply, “’Celebrates.’ On that word hangs everything.”

Dreher is right about the importance of that word, I think. Because that contradiction really is what's essential to the film: It promotes both a rural, peaceful lifestyle and unrelenting violence; it abhors the decadence of modern, urban society, but also plays directly to that decadence by delivering on our desire for wanton violence as entertainment. And though I think it's useful to wonder if one part is just an excuse for the other, I don't think you can really declare one the "real" intention, the "correct" meaning. Both parts, however divergent, are equally true.

The movie is honest about its passion for communal life; it’s also fiercely dedicated to wringing every last bit of cinematic adrenalin from its violence. That’s a major part of what makes the movie so interesting—that it fully embodies both ideas despite the tensions between them.

And I don’t think that, as Dreher suspects, Gibson is blind to his instincts. I think he recognizes his hang-ups and tries to resolve them in his films. He knows he’s got a penchant for violence, and he knows the dark places that might lead. So he uses that drive for something he believes to be good, channeling his mania rather than letting it control him. He puts his bloodlust in service of defending his most basic beliefs. It’s the Dexter approach to movie directing—a sort of vigilante filmmaking, using scandalous means to what he believes to be a moral ends. And the result is some really powerful filmmaking that uses blunt force to in service of some fascinating, even inspiring, ideals: Braveheart, about oppression and freedom; The Passion, about the persecution, suffering, and dedication of Christ; and Apocalypto, about the bonds of family, community, and nature. It's edgy material, but it makes for really good cinema. Bloody good.