a review by Jeffrey Overstreet
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ABC’s television movie “event” Judas opens with a striking and unsettling scene. A man is being crucified on a cross quite unlike the sort included in traditions of Christian art. This is really a tree, with the cross beams being upward bending branches. The suffering man looks down upon his grieving wife and son, and uncurls his fingers to drop a memento for his child, making this moment more than a nightmare. It is also one of those moments that seems to determine the course of a character’s life. The boy, young Judas, will grow up clinging to that memory, and to hatred for the Romans who killed his father.
The scene ends with a panoramic view of that bloody hill, revealing what seems like a hundred men, all writhing and groaning at once. It’s one of the grisliest spectacles you’ll ever see.
It’s also the last surprising sight in the whole of this made-for-TV movie.
Judas, directed by Charles Carner and penned by Emmy Award-winning writer-producer Tom Fontana, is a disappointingly unimaginative plod through the basics of the gospel. It’s hard to believe this sketchy, shallow treatment of the story comes from the guy responsible for such hard-hitting television as Homicide: Life on the Streets and Oz. The film features a strangely uncompelling Jesus, who looks more like a California surfer dude than someone who would draw crowds with his teachings at the tabernacle. Jonathan Scarfe’s Christ is smiley, rosy-cheeked, and perhaps the whitest Jesus ever filmed, the sort of Son of God you might see in a child’s Sunday School coloring book.
Judas is, by contrast, dark and brooding behind his beard. (This is the kind of film in which Jesus always wears white and Judas always wears dark colors.) Played by Jonathan Schaech, who here strongly resembles Peter Gallagher, Judas is provided with some practical motivation for supporting Christ and then for ultimately betraying him.
He begins by watching vigilantly for the messiah that John the Baptist promises will come. “I have to find him,” he says to the Baptist. “Be patient,” says John. “He’ll find you.”
But it is Judas who finds Jesus after all. He spies him throwing the moneychangers out of the temple, and this is just the sort of aggression he’s been looking for. Here’s a man with strength and guts. Maybe he is the Messiah after all. Soon, Judas is hanging around like Jesus’ agent and manager, making sure that the fame spreads and that the crowds keep coming.
Like Harvey Keitel’s version of the character in The Last Temptation of Christ, this Judas wants Jesus to lead a military revolt. He has grown up believing he will have a hand in this violent uprising. His mother reminds him, “You were born for greatness, like your father.” His anger and arrogance make him just proud enough to be dangerous. When he has Jesus’ attention, he tries to ignite the same fire in his teacher.
Jesus has other ideas, of course. As he does miracles and draws people to him, Judas thinks he sees a powerful network coming together. And when Jesus passes on his powers to his disciples-in a way that looks like a clumsy wizard trying to cast a spell-Judas hurries out to give these powers a try.
In the movie’s best embellishment, Judas and another disciple try to raise the dead, and the results only serve to further frustrate him. It’s an inspired sequence, an amusing little lesson on how to serve God with the right spirit. I wish the film had given us more moments like this. The disciples have always been a source of comedy, even in the Scriptures, in that they constantly behave like us… concerned with petty disputes, ego, and blindness to Jesus’ metaphors.
But for every decent scene, there’s one that makes you wince.
When Judas tries to get Jesus to sell his cures for profit, Jesus says, “I’m no good with money. Whatever I have, I tend to lose.” Later, the two get into a playful wrestling match in the woods. “I really like you, Judas,” says Christ. “I wish you’d love yourself the way I do.” These moments are surely meant to “humanize” these characters, but they strike this viewer as painfully cheesy.
The dialogue is distractingly contemporary, as when one character refers to Judas as “a pain in the ass.” When Jesus is teaching, he often sounds more like a high school basketball coach than a great teacher.
And what’s with the Last Supper? Where did they get that cool glowing dinner table? Ikea?
The supporting cast are no more interesting than the central actors. The disciples are a generic lot. A few days after seeing the film, none of them remain distinct in the memory. Tim Matheson is miscast as Pontius Pilate; he, like Scarfe’s Jesus, is American through and through. Bob Gunton (The Shawshank Redemption, Patch Adams) plays Caiaphas, the Jewish religious leader who leads the conspiracies to send Jesus to his death, and he is played with familiar menace… familiar because Gunton seems to bring the same voice and manner to all of the cartoonish villains he plays.
Ultimately, Jesus turns out to have a different sort of revolution in mind-one of humility, love, prayer, servanthood, selflessness, and compassion. Judas feels betrayed. Then, an urgent need for money arises, and, well… you know the rest.
To Fontana’s credit, his screenplay does lead to an arresting juxtaposition-two deaths on two trees, one a sacrifice of love and the other an act of despair and shame.
But he misses what was a brilliant opportunity to underline Judas’s failure even further. He leaves out the Resurrection. Think of the memorable closure it might have given the film: Imagine seeing Jesus return to be with the disciples again. While they kneel in awe and worship, he looks around and sees the empty place once held by Judas. We see the grief in his face over losing one that he loved… and there is the last resonant moment. Christ misses his friend, his companion, and feels sadness for Judas’s terrible choice and terrible end. The closing shot is a reminder of the ongoing love and mercy of a risen Christ, instead of just a crescendo of death. Alas, a good opportunity overlooked.