Volume 10: Summer 2005

Faith and Film: Theological Themes at the Cinema.

Stone, Bryan P. Atlanta: Chalice Press, 2000. 197 + ix pp. $19.19 (USD). ISBN: 0-8272-1027-2.

[1]  Bryan Stone, professor of evangelism at Boston University School of Theology, introduces this book with his conviction that “what is especially needed with the Christian movement today is vigorous and sustained thinking about both the gospel and the world, about scripture and human existence, about text and context” (3; italics in the original).  Stone maintains that the task involves more than just the study of the scriptures, but includes meaningful engagement with culture. He argues that cultural artifacts such as popular films are especially appropriate for such study since they are “regularly and quite amazingly a source of revelation about ourselves and our world” (4).  With this perspective in mind, Stone provides us with a fine example of just such engagement.

[2] Stone likens his work to an interfaith dialogue where both partners (theology and film) have a voice. At times, a film can help us understand an aspect of the Christian faith in a new and refreshing way; at other times, the Christian faith can speak to the explicit messages and implicit assumptions of popular film. To facilitate such a dialogue with popular movies, Stone uses the Apostles’ Creed as one partner in the dialogue. Each chapter has a similar structure; Stone takes a phrase from the creed and reads it alongside a popular film (two chapters discuss three films):

I believe [chapter 1; Contact] in God, the Father almighty [chapter 2; Oh, God!], creator of heaven and earth [chapter 3; 2001: A Space Odyssey].  I believe in Jesus Christ, his only Son, our Lord [chapter 4; Jesus of Montreal].  He was conceived by the Holy Spirit and born of the Virgin Mary [chapter 5; The Greatest Story Ever Told, The Last Temptation of Christ, and the Gospel According to Matthew].  He suffered under Pontius Pilate [chapter 6; Romero], was crucified, died, and was buried. He descended to the dead [chapter 7; One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest].  On the third day he rose again.  He ascended into heaven, and is seated at the right hand of the Father [chapter 8; Phenomenon, Powder, and E.T. The Extra-Terrestrial].  He will come again to judge the living and the dead [chapter 9; Flatliners].  I believe in the Holy Spirit [chapter 10; Star Wars], the holy catholic church [chapter 11; The Mission], the communion of saints [chapter 12; Babette’s Feast], the forgiveness of sins [chapter 13; Dead Man Walking], the resurrection of the body and the life everlasting [chapter 14; The Shawshank Redemption].

To facilitate the book’s use in church group settings, each chapter also includes a number of questions for group discussion or personal reflection, in many cases followed by a fairly inclusive list of related films. The book closes with brief summaries of the films discussed, and an index.

[3] Stone’s theological reflection is for the most part both insightful and provocative, as is his interaction with the films. He focuses his film criticism primarily on the message of the movies, neither their cinematic or dramatic merit, nor their box office success—as can be discerned by some of the films he discusses.  The movies covered represent a variety of genres (perhaps melodramas are over-represented), and include some typical Hollywood fare as well as some foreign films.  All of the films discussed are chosen because they resonate with Christian doctrine, because they provide a contrast and a partner for dialogue, or both. An example of the former includes his discussion of Romero, where Stone underscores the social and political dimensions of Jesus’ ministry and warns against making the gospel into a message that is only about Jesus, and not also the message of Jesus. In the same way, Stone uses One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest to expand the reader’s understanding of the atonement. Rather than limiting atonement to the satisfaction model predominant in much contemporary Protestantism, Stone suggests the “classical” or Christus Victor view is more adequate, since it also takes into consideration the systemic nature of evil and domination. He then shows how the McMurphy character in One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest is a figure of Christ’s atonement who suffers and dies (metaphorically; he is lobotomized) to liberate his fellow inmates.  On the other hand, a number of films provide more of a contrast with Christian theology. For example, Stone contrasts the impersonal “force” in Star Wars with the Christian understanding of the Holy Spirit. Similarly, he argues the karmic view of justice presented in Flatliners is not the same as the retribution theology presented in the Christian Scriptures.  Lastly, Stone uses films to both illustrate and provide contrast with Christian theology; for example, the Jesus films he discusses, which either illustrate Jesus’ divinity at the expense of his humanity (e.g., The Greatest Story Ever Told), or vice versa (e.g., The Last Temptation of Christ).

[4] While Stone’s work is a great example of mature Christian engagement with contemporary film, the book does have its weaknesses.  Recognizing the limitations of a book written for small group settings, I still wish Stone could have deepened his discussions in many chapters.  In addition, some of the films he uses to illustrate Christian themes work better than others; the parallels he draws with movies like Phenomenon and Powder were not particularly compelling. Similarly, while I especially enjoyed his discussion of One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest, in many ways the film fails to illustrate Stone’s point since the system of domination at the mental institution is still well established after the curtain closes; it is only Chief who escapes.  Additionally, considering that this work is intended for church groups, stone may risk alienating conservative readers who may balk at the use of the one-third of the films which were given an “R” rating from the Motion Picture Association of America. This would be unfortunate, since Stone’s emphasis on the multifaceted nature of the gospel—its spiritual, social, and political implications—would then be lost to such an audience. Finally, Stone is perhaps too reliant on Theodore Jennings’s Loyalty to God: The Apostles’ Creed in Life and Liturgy (Abingdon Press, 1992) for his discussion of the Apostles’ Creed, considering the number of excellent treatments available.

[5] On the whole, this is an excellent introductory work on the subject of faith and film, and I highly recommend it for individual or group study. It is well-suited for church groups of all denominations, though it would be more at home in Protestant circles. While the use of the Apostles’ Creed makes it ideal for liturgical traditions, those in non-liturgical traditions would doubly benefit since they would not only be challenged to engage film in a meaningful way, but would also be treated to a good exposition of the Creed.  One final note: if used in small group settings, it would be important to follow Stone’s recommendations and view the film first (using the study questions to facilitate discussion afterwards) and then read the appropriate chapter, since most include “spoiler” information about the film and interaction with the discussion questions. 

Tyler F. Williams
Taylor University College
Edmonton, Alberta, Canada
tyler.williams@taylor-edu.ca