DogmaIf your faith goes unchallenged, how will you ever know how strong it is? Dogma is an irreverent black comedy about a young woman from Illinois named Bethany Sloane (Linda Fiorentino) who is experiencing a crisis of faith. Despite this, she is chosen for a holy pilgrimage to Red Bank, New Jersey by the snarky voice of God, a.k.a. the "Metatron" (Alan Rickman). Her mission is to stop a couple of fallen angels named Loki (Matt Damon) and Bartleby (Ben Affleck) from passing through the arch of a church run by the unscrupulous yet media savvy Cardinal Glick (George Carlin), because Glick has offered "plenary indulgence"--an obscure relic of Catholic dogma--as an incentive for those who attend the centennial celebration and pass through the arch. Because of the circumstances of Loki and Bartleby's exile, they conclude that they must be allowed back into Heaven under this loophole in dogmatic law, regardless of God's decree to the contrary, thereby proving that even God is fallible, and consequently unmaking all of existence.
|
|
Written and directed by Kevin Smith, Dogma sparked controversy in and around its release in 1999 for being "blasphemous", despite a semi-serious disclaimer that the film is merely a work of "comic fantasy"--one that is lampshaded even in its own definition of a "disclaimer", not to mention a sly dig at the "noble platypus". Some have said that this approach--which is consistent throughout Dogma--is an attempt on Smith's part to straddle the proverbial fence and not commit to any one "side" of the debate on religion. But this assessment misses the point of the film, which is about the way people process religion and seek understanding in their individual existences through it, evidenced in the first several scenes in Dogma. Following a seemingly unrelated assault of "John Doe Jersey" (Bud Cort) by a trio of mean-spirited rollerbladers with hockey sticks--later dubbed the "Stygian Triplets"--the film moves to Glick delivering his pitch about how he's been charged with "revamping" Catholicism for a new generation, to make it "hip" and "cool". Glick's sleazy campaign goes so far as to retire the crucifix as the symbol of faith in favor of a superficially inoffensive icon, the "Buddy Christ", which depicts Jesus winking and giving a "thumbs up" to his faithful instead. Glick's manipulation of the faithful is transparent, suggesting that he represents the Church and that the film's message is an attack on organized religion. This is followed by a cutaway to Loki convincing a nun to give up her habit, citing Lewis Carroll's "The Walrus and the Carpenter" as an example of how organized religion exploits the masses. And yet right after this--before the audience of Dogma is truly aware that these two are actually angels--Bartleby chides his partner-in-exile for his atheistic rhetoric because he knows that they know full well that God exists. It is reasonable to conclude that the message of Dogma is in how dangerous it is to allow institutions to do your thinking and believing for you, like how Glick turns Christianity into a product. But like with Smith's prior film, Chasing Amy, this movie underscores how he is at his best when he invites his audience to reach their own conclusions about faith and religion, rather than simply propping up the existing institutions, or preaching from a single podium.
Loki and Bartleby are the "View Askewniverse" equivalent of Rosencrantz and Guildenstern, trekking from Wisconsin to New Jersey on their voyage for redemption, waxing philosophical and citing pop culture references along the way. Dogma splits its attentions between Bethany and the pair of erstwhile angels, but the latter are just as compelling despite being the ultimate obstacle of Bethany's unlikely crusade. Both angels are filled with old regrets for their expulsion from Heaven, which happened after Loki--the one-time Angel of Death--threw down his fiery sword at the suggestion of his bar buddy, Bartleby. Bartleby tells Loki about their opportunity to return home in an airport, where--as he puts it--he likes to watch people at their best, staring on with wistful longing at the love and comfort he is lacking. Bartleby harbors substantial sorrow for being "dumped" by God, and a buried resentment that humanity is favored over angels like him. Yet despite the millennia he has spent on Earth, he can't come to terms with the schism in his heart. On one hand he feels "sorry" for humanity's shortcomings; but on the other, he believes that his punishment for wanting to show sympathy to those subject to God's vengeance was unfair. His suffering is what a scheming demon named Azrael (Jason Lee)--who dresses like Hannibal Lecter from the end of The Silence of the Lambs--is able to leverage for his own corrupt ends. Azrael gives Bartleby a subtle push to attend the centennial ceremony in New Jersey, fully aware that it will result in the complete destruction of all existence. Despite their already lengthy punishment, enlightenment still eludes Loki and Bartleby. In many ways, God hasn't punished them so much as placed them in the position where they are forced to observe humanity as intimately as possible without being human themselves, as if acknowledging their proclaimed sympathies for mankind. But both angels cling to their former ways; Bartleby continues to spy on mortals and almost relishes their sinful nature, while Loki longs for the "good old days" of raining down divine wrath, going so far as to slaughter a board room full of idolaters on their way to New Jersey. That they will be forced to wait outside the pearly gates at the end of days is a nod to how they are also counterparts to Kevin Smith's own iconic cinematic duo, Jay (Jason Mewes) and Silent Bob (Kevin Smith)--who appear as a pair of unlikely "prophets" in Dogma--and their propensity to loiter outside of the Quick Stop as early as Smith's debut film, Clerks.
After Jay and Silent Bob rescue Bethany from an assassination attempt by the Stygian Triplets, they regroup at a diner where Jay comments that their meeting is like Star Wars--unsurprising given Kevin Smith's fondness for the classic space opera. But Jay's comment is truly on point, since their adventure draws in an entourage of other colorful characters with ties to the Bible--including the "Thirteenth Apostle", Rufus (Chris Rock), and an eternal "muse" (turned stripper) named Serendipity (Salma Hayek), both of whom take umbrage with their perception about the representation of race and gender in the Bible. Even Metatron rejoins their troupe; as with the rest of the party, he offers social commentary and exposition, along with humor. Bethany's journey is essentially her own "Road to Damascus" (or New Jersey, as is the case here); she bears a grudge toward God for her inability to bear children, works in an abortion clinic, and attends church not out of love but routine. She describes her withered faith to her coworker (Janeane Garofalo), who offers her a metaphor about faith being like a glass of water. But when Metatron appears before her and tells her about her mission, she begins to understand that the "plan" for her life was not necessarily God's, even if she struggles to yet admit it. For a movie that contains copious amounts of gross and crude humor and dialogue--take the "Golgothan" demon--there are just as many moments of existential introspection. One of the most poignant of these comes when Bethany and Bartleby meet (with the latter using an alias), and the former confesses that she lost her faith after her mother tried to console her by telling her that "God has a plan". What Bethany took as an empty platitude is proven true by the end of Dogma, and reveals how divine intelligence isn't something we mere mortals have the capacity to comprehend from our vantage point. It doesn't diminish the pain and suffering we bear in our short lives, but this thought adds context--and comfort--to the journey we all share.
Recommended for: Fans of a self-aware commentary about faith, filled with religious references both familiar and esoteric, and a comedy that embraces both toilet humor and dry wit. Dogma is best suited for mature audiences in part because of the language, but also because of the value it adds for those who have experienced a crisis of faith through its refreshing social discourse about the belief in God's existence.
Loki and Bartleby are the "View Askewniverse" equivalent of Rosencrantz and Guildenstern, trekking from Wisconsin to New Jersey on their voyage for redemption, waxing philosophical and citing pop culture references along the way. Dogma splits its attentions between Bethany and the pair of erstwhile angels, but the latter are just as compelling despite being the ultimate obstacle of Bethany's unlikely crusade. Both angels are filled with old regrets for their expulsion from Heaven, which happened after Loki--the one-time Angel of Death--threw down his fiery sword at the suggestion of his bar buddy, Bartleby. Bartleby tells Loki about their opportunity to return home in an airport, where--as he puts it--he likes to watch people at their best, staring on with wistful longing at the love and comfort he is lacking. Bartleby harbors substantial sorrow for being "dumped" by God, and a buried resentment that humanity is favored over angels like him. Yet despite the millennia he has spent on Earth, he can't come to terms with the schism in his heart. On one hand he feels "sorry" for humanity's shortcomings; but on the other, he believes that his punishment for wanting to show sympathy to those subject to God's vengeance was unfair. His suffering is what a scheming demon named Azrael (Jason Lee)--who dresses like Hannibal Lecter from the end of The Silence of the Lambs--is able to leverage for his own corrupt ends. Azrael gives Bartleby a subtle push to attend the centennial ceremony in New Jersey, fully aware that it will result in the complete destruction of all existence. Despite their already lengthy punishment, enlightenment still eludes Loki and Bartleby. In many ways, God hasn't punished them so much as placed them in the position where they are forced to observe humanity as intimately as possible without being human themselves, as if acknowledging their proclaimed sympathies for mankind. But both angels cling to their former ways; Bartleby continues to spy on mortals and almost relishes their sinful nature, while Loki longs for the "good old days" of raining down divine wrath, going so far as to slaughter a board room full of idolaters on their way to New Jersey. That they will be forced to wait outside the pearly gates at the end of days is a nod to how they are also counterparts to Kevin Smith's own iconic cinematic duo, Jay (Jason Mewes) and Silent Bob (Kevin Smith)--who appear as a pair of unlikely "prophets" in Dogma--and their propensity to loiter outside of the Quick Stop as early as Smith's debut film, Clerks.
After Jay and Silent Bob rescue Bethany from an assassination attempt by the Stygian Triplets, they regroup at a diner where Jay comments that their meeting is like Star Wars--unsurprising given Kevin Smith's fondness for the classic space opera. But Jay's comment is truly on point, since their adventure draws in an entourage of other colorful characters with ties to the Bible--including the "Thirteenth Apostle", Rufus (Chris Rock), and an eternal "muse" (turned stripper) named Serendipity (Salma Hayek), both of whom take umbrage with their perception about the representation of race and gender in the Bible. Even Metatron rejoins their troupe; as with the rest of the party, he offers social commentary and exposition, along with humor. Bethany's journey is essentially her own "Road to Damascus" (or New Jersey, as is the case here); she bears a grudge toward God for her inability to bear children, works in an abortion clinic, and attends church not out of love but routine. She describes her withered faith to her coworker (Janeane Garofalo), who offers her a metaphor about faith being like a glass of water. But when Metatron appears before her and tells her about her mission, she begins to understand that the "plan" for her life was not necessarily God's, even if she struggles to yet admit it. For a movie that contains copious amounts of gross and crude humor and dialogue--take the "Golgothan" demon--there are just as many moments of existential introspection. One of the most poignant of these comes when Bethany and Bartleby meet (with the latter using an alias), and the former confesses that she lost her faith after her mother tried to console her by telling her that "God has a plan". What Bethany took as an empty platitude is proven true by the end of Dogma, and reveals how divine intelligence isn't something we mere mortals have the capacity to comprehend from our vantage point. It doesn't diminish the pain and suffering we bear in our short lives, but this thought adds context--and comfort--to the journey we all share.
Recommended for: Fans of a self-aware commentary about faith, filled with religious references both familiar and esoteric, and a comedy that embraces both toilet humor and dry wit. Dogma is best suited for mature audiences in part because of the language, but also because of the value it adds for those who have experienced a crisis of faith through its refreshing social discourse about the belief in God's existence.