The Da Vinci Code: Bad Theology, Average Film, Great Opportunity
Many of us remember with fondness the late Fr. Toby McGivern: a great
storyteller who “never let the truth get in the way of a good story.” Though he
referred to real events and people in his stories, ultimately it was just a good yarn,
not to be taken too seriously. It was entertainment, all the more enjoyable because
of the underlying grain of truth, but harmless.
Dan Brown’s The Da Vinci Code, recently made into a film directed by Ron
Howard (A Beautiful Mind, Cinderella Man), is quite another kind of story.
Howard telescopes Brown’s mega-bestseller (over 50 million copies sold) and
pop-culture icon into a 148-minute film which, though technically well-made, is
so replete with historical fallacies and logical gaps that it fails both as revisionist
history and as credible mystery-thriller: as Jay Stone has noted, it is “not so much
an enigma wrapped in a mystery as an unlikelihood wrapped in an impossibility.”
Much ink has already been spilled about the biblical, theological, and historical
inaccuracies on which the novel and film are based. It all boils down to
conspiracy theory: the Catholic Church has engineered a deliberate and elaborate
deception, designed to hide from the world (and its own followers) the “real truth”
about the identity and message of Jesus. The “quest for the Grail”, according to
this theory, is ultimately the search for Mary Magdalene and her descendants, who
represent both the “sacred feminine” ruthlessly suppressed by a male-dominant
Church and the royal bloodline descended from Jesus Christ.
In spite of a “fact” page (absent from the film, thankfully) that gives the
impression of meticulous research and documentary accuracy, the foundation of
Brown’s Grail theory – borrowed almost directly from the 1980s book Holy
Blood, Holy Grail – can be dismissed readily enough, with a minimum of solid
research. So much so that in the film, when hero Robert Langdon stands up on a
London bus and exclaims – “I need a library – quick!” – I found myself wishing
heartily that Dan Brown had obeyed a similar inspiration! As theology and
history, the film fails dismally. But issues of historical and theological accuracy
aside, how effective is the Da Vinci Code as a film? Does it hold up as a credible
mystery-thriller?
The story. Harvard professor Robert Langdon (Tom Hanks), an expert in
religious symbology, is giving a lecture in Paris. The police ask him to come to
the Louvre, where the curator has been murdered, leaving behind a mysterious
trail of symbols and clues. When lovely young police cryptologist Sophie Neveu
(Audrey Tautou) informs him that he is about to be framed for the crime – carried
out by Silas, an albino, sadomasochistic, Latin-speaking Opus Dei monk (!) –
Langdon and Sophie flee. Assisted by Grail-aficionado Sir Leigh Teabing (a
disappointingly over-the-top Sir Ian McKellen), they set off on a thrilling quest
through Paris, London, and Scotland. Collecting clues, solving anagrams and
puzzles, unveiling hidden secrets in the works of Leonardo da Vinci – all while
evading an international police operation, led by gritty Inspector Bezu Fache (Jean
Reno) – they feverishly attempt to crack the Da Vinci Code, thereby unearthing
secrets that will shake the foundations of humanity and expose the Church’s
claims about Christ as an elaborate hoax.
The film undoubtedly has its merits. Director Howard is a skilled film-maker, the
cinematography and production design are nicely atmospheric, and he has an Alist cast to work with. Fans of Brown’s novel – typically referred to as a “real
page-turner” – will be pleased with the fast-moving story, a Smart Car-chase
through the streets of Paris, the intellectual challenge of anagrams, mathematical
sequences, and code-breaking, as well as the twists and turns of a story in which
you are never quite sure whether the hero will turn out to be a villain – or viceversa. At this level, the film does engage the attention of the viewer. You
probably won’t be bored!
Unfortunately, Akiva Goldsman’s stilted script fails to overcome the weaknesses
of his source material: weak dialogue, shoddy historical research, and superficial
character development. There is little chemistry between Hanks and Tautou. Is
Langdon surrogate father, intellectual mentor, or potential love-interest? We
never find out – and worse, we don’t really care. For instance, at the end of their
quest – which ends with dramatic and life-changing consequences for Sophie,
struggling to make sense of it all – Langdon’s almost laughable response is to pat
her hand and say: “The only thing that matters is what you believe.”
This is part of the weakness of the film: the spirit of good old Hollywood
relativism, in which as long as your opinion is sincerely held, it doesn’t really
matter what you believe. Truth is in the eye of the beholder: what is true is what
convinces me. Religious institutions and authorities are suspect; the inner spiritual
experience of the individual is sacrosanct.
Not surprisingly, the film’s
nd
protagonists exalt the esoteric and elusive 2 and 3rd-century Gnostic “gospels”
over the earlier, historically-rooted, first-century texts of Matthew, Mark, Luke,
and John. (In a typical howler, it is claimed that the Church suppressed the
Gnostic Gospels for promoting the humanity of Christ, while admitting into the
canon those Gospels which supported his divinity. This is exactly opposite to the
historical record.)
This generalized suspicion of organized religion is reflected in the
characterizations. “Religious” characters are either murderous and corrupt, or
obedient sheep, submissive to authority, blissfully ignorant of the cover-up in
which they are colluding. They serve power, but not the truth. Of the major
characters, Sophie claims to be an atheist; Langdon, an ex-Catholic, is one in
whom nostalgic attachment to his childhood faith and scholarly skepticism coexist uneasily. Conspiracy theorist Leigh Teabing is the most putatively antireligious character: most of the Da Vinci controversy in Christian circles has
revolved around his fallacious diatribes on topics as diverse as religious
symbolism, art, and iconography; the discovery and interpretation of biblical
manuscripts; the early Councils and medieval Church history; and contemporary
movements such as Opus Dei – to which he clings with a dogmatic attachment
worthy of the murderous monk Silas.
To Howard’s credit, the film exposes the lunacy beneath Teabing’s superficial
charm more effectively than does the novel. Langdon is also given a more active
“devil’s advocate” role, in which he challenges some of Teabing’s more
preposterous historical assertions. Yet Sophie and Langdon seek out Teabing as a
credible “expert”, and even when the true intentions of his character are revealed,
the film basically endorses his basic theory about the real significance of the Grail.
Of course, devout Christians do have the possibility of opting out of this theory.
Because – after all – “the only thing that matters is what you believe.”
Director Howard and star Tom Hanks have both stressed that Christians have
nothing to fear; The Da Vinci Code is entertainment, not theology. At one level,
they are absolutely right. As theology and history, the film fails. Yet their claim
is somewhat disingenuous. For whether we like it or not, readers and viewers trust
authors and filmmakers to do their research properly, if they are referring to real
historical people and events. This is all the more true when we are dealing with
representations of people and events central to the beliefs of major faithcommunities – as the recent controversy over the publication of unflattering
cartoons of the prophet Mohammed has tragically revealed. If nothing else, this
points to the tremendous need for media literacy in contemporary culture.
It also suggests something which the Christian Churches need to address without
delay: basic cultural ignorance of the Christian story. Recent polls suggest that
nearly one-third of Da Vinci’s Canadian readers accept its basic premise as
plausible. Even more shocking, according to The Tablet, 3 out of 5 British people
believe there is “some truth” in the book’s claim that Jesus fathered children by
Mary Magdalene. We can blame this on secularism, on the shocking lack of
religious knowledge in so-called “Christian” cultures, or even intrinsic human
gullibility.
But this is where we as Church bear some responsibility. If people are so willing
to believe the admittedly preposterous theories put forward by such works as the
Da Vinci Code, it is at least in part because our way of presenting it is often
neither effective nor convincing. In a recent adult education session at St.
Monica’s, we were amazed to learn that most of our 80 attendees – well-read,
practicing adult Catholics for the most part – were learning for the first time, in
Catholic circles, that Mary Magdalene was not merely a repentant prostitute, but a
prominent woman disciple and first witness of the Resurrection. And there was a
sense of distress that this information – even if not deliberately concealed – had
certainly been very poorly communicated. Is it surprising that Brown’s premise of
a male-dominated Church “suppressing the sacred feminine” should play well in a
culture that often – not without some justification – sees the Church as not really
taking women seriously as equals?
By and large, nonbelievers have made better films about Christianity than
Christian believers. This is in part because Christians sometimes feel the need to
sanitize the message – to present their heroes and saints as flawless icons of virtue
and holiness, rather than people who, in solidarity with the rest of sinful and
suffering humanity, have struggled with the demons of doubt, despair, carnality,
and fear. Instead of telling stories … we preach sermons. Yet the same film
scholars note that filmmakers coming from a Catholic background are exceptions
to this rule: inheritors of a sacramental tradition, they draw on the resources of
image and symbol, of story and parable, of the dramatic conflict between good and
evil within the world and in the depths of each human soul, to tell stories capable
of captivating, inspiring, and transforming their viewers.
The Da Vinci Code, I am sorry to say, is not that kind of film. But its impact as a
pop-culture icon presents a challenge the Church can neither ignore, nor dismiss
with superficial condemnations. For what is at stake is not merely a quibble
regarding certain details in the lives of two figures named by historians as Jesus of
Nazareth and Mary of Magdala. As Christians, we believe that the human race is
invited into a unique relationship with God through the person of the Risen Christ
– not a dead figure from the past, but our living Lord, drawing us into relationship
with the Father of all creation, revealing the unique and infinite worth of each
human person through the indwelling Spirit poured into our hearts. That is a story
worth telling. We need to tell it accurately, of course. But we also need to make it
fresh and compelling, showing how it addresses the concerns, the fears, the
deepest desires of our contemporary world. Then the life and message of Jesus
Christ – continued in his disciples, his saints, and yes, his Church, with all its
flaws and failings – can truly be received as “The Greatest Story Ever Told.”
Fr. Raymond Lafontaine
Pastor of St. Monica’s Parish; Lecturer in Theology, Concordia University.