Mel Gibson
August 10, 2006, 9:55 am
Posted by John McGreevy
No one has touched the Mel Gibson episode so I’ll start the ball rolling with a tough-minded but also fair discussion by Tim Rutten of the Los Angeles Times. Rutten asks: shouldn’t graphic evidence of Gibson’s anti-Semitism force those who defended Gibson’s Passion of the Christ – one of the most popular and culturally important films of the past thirty years — to rethink their position?
Hi John — we haven’t corresponded in a while.
In response to your point, of course Catholics who defended The Passion of the Christ SHOULD re-think their position — but I’d wager that most of them won’t, or won’t venture their reconsideration publicly. Some are just anti-Semites — enough said on that point. Many of those I know who defended Passion did so, in my view, out of a pavlovian “anti-liberal” reflex: anything that angers “liberals” has to be defended. For them, silence will be the best policy.
Some will, I’m sure, try to split the difference and argue that Gibson’s personal bigotry isn’t reflected in the film. That would be almost clever, but it would entail a view of the human person that would contradict the (very laudable) position often articulated by conservatives: that who we are is inextricably bound up with what we do.
I’d say it’s an easy question: No. The movie hasn’t changed between last month and now. The movie is what it is, regardless of what Gibson’s innermost thoughts might be. If the movie trades on anti-Semitic tropes, then as far as the movie itself is concerned, it wouldn’t matter if Gibson’s mind was utterly innocent of such motives. And vice versa.
Following on what I said, it’s interesting to note that the LA Times article doesn’t say a single word about anything found in the movie. The closest that the article comes to doing so is in one sentence stating that Gibson had intended to rely on the Gospel of Matthew (“most problematic”) and the writings of Anne Catherine Emmerich. But the article doesn’t explain any of this, let alone make an argument that any specific feature of the movie that once appeared innocent is now more problematic in light of Gibson’s innermost beliefs.
http://www.commonwealmagazine.org/article.php3?id_article=60&var_recherche=mel+gibson
I think Stuart Buck makes an excellent point, that the movie is what it is, regardless of how anti-semitic its director. I myself have not seen the film, for reasons which I myself cannot clearly explain, so I can’t comment on its stand-alone anti-semitic (or not) impact.
But I must say that I’m not buying Gibson’s apologies. My take on the effects of alcohol is that it tends to uncover the true feelings of the inebriate, and I say that as a right-wing Catholic truly disappointed by this event. I was an admirer of Mel Gibson and believed that he did not share his father’s demented views, believing that his silence about those views was the result of misplaced filial devotion.
But no more. If one also includes his other remarks to the officers, it all adds up to the portrait of a pathetic anti-semite and sexist. Now I know I’ll never pay to see his film – ever.
There was an excellent op ed in the Post this past weekend by Tom Grubisich raising the “further apologies” question more pointedly and directing it to the bishops who stumped for Gibson’s movie.
The link is here: http://www.washingtonpost.com/wp-dyn/content/article/2006/08/04/AR2006080401326.html
Of course the movie is anti-Semitic and cannot be separated from Gibson as easily as some would suggest. That is the wonderful irony of his drunken escapade: he proved his critics right!
Grant — your link is off-topic. The question isn’t whether people purported to perceive anti-Semitic elements in the movie before, but whether anything should be reinterpreted *now*.
There are only three logical positions that someone can take:
1. “I already thought the movie was anti-Semitic.” If you are in this camp, you will see the Gibson incident as shedding light on Gibson’s personal moral failings. But this isn’t an argument for *reinterpreting* anything about the *movie.*
2. “I thought that certain specific elements in the movie were innocent before, but now that I think of them in light of the Gibson incident, I’m not so sure.” THIS is reinterpreting the movie. It is also an argument that no one, as far as I can tell, has even tried to make. That is, I haven’t seen anyone, anywhere, point to anything in the movie that once seemed innocent but that could now be reinterpreted.
3. “I thought the movie was not anti-Semitic before, and I still think this.” This is the other logical possibility.
Stuart,
I’m not clear on why your second option is so implausible.
First, and most generally, it seems to me that you are advocating an approach to interpretation that categorically denies the relevance of authorial (or directorial) intent. I myself don’t think that’s a persuasive approach to hermeneutics, although I do think that other things matter besides authorial intent.
Second, it seems to me perfectly reasonable to say that some features of a film could be seen as anti-Semitic, or as not anti-Semitic, depending upon whether one approached the film with a hermeneutic of charity. One could say that, absent other evidence of personal anti-Semitism on the part of the author (director), one would apply that hermeneutic of charity, but wih such evidence, one would apply a hermeneutic of suspicion. The question is, whether Mel’s recent outburst counts as sufficient evdience of his deep intent, beliefs, etc. The answer to that question depends in part upon how you view the influence of alcohol.
Let me try a thought experiment. that might shift your perspective. Suppose someone tried to argue that “Cider House Rules” wasn’t a pro-abortion film. They might say that it dealt with a very difficult situation, it simply described what happened in that particular case, etc; those particular people happened to have an abortion. Suppose that the producer of the movie gave a lot of money to pro-abortion causes, etc. Would you cconsider the identity and commitments of John Iriving relevant in interpreting the film?
I just googled a couple of reviews of Cider House Rules: Here’s one that made reference to Irving’s political beliefs on abortion:
http://www.thenewamerican.com/tna/2000/01-31-2000/vo16no03_cider_house.htm
I get the feeling that this discussion has veered away from the original problem as posed by both John and Tim Rutten. At the risk of seeming pedantic, I want to remind everyone that the point wasn’t about the interpretation of the film, or of Gibson, for that matter. It was about the people who’ve defended Gibson, and how his recent meltdown should effect their estimation of the film.
William Donohue’s remarks are, as Rutten puts it mildly, instructive. Donohue concludes his defense of Gibson and the movie by saying, in effect, that bigoted remarks aren’t a sign of bigotry. Not only does such a view make a dog’s breakfast of any notion of moral responsibility, but it also lames any idea of the human person.
I think there’s also a political dimension to this that needs to be aired. As I said in my first post, one reason why many conservatives defended the film in the first place, and probably won’t retract their views now (at least publicly), is that Gibson and the film are moments in a cultural conflict. Once the discussion of culture and religion gets reduced to political moves in a “culture war,” then the combatants are almost forced to abandon any allegiance to intellectual integrity.
To NOW see the anti-Semitism in Passion IS a “re-interpretation,” on one level, but we’re re-interpreting things all the time in the light of better evidence, a longer view, etc. There’s nothing suspect in that. But there’s also the argument that it was always there to be seen, if only we’d had the eyes to see it. But for defenders of Gibson to say that would be to admit that they failed to see the anti-Semitism; which means that their interpretive lenses were awry; which means that they may have to rethink, not only the film, but their positions in the “culture war.”
Yes, I do think that one should interpret art (or any category of work) without making what is essentially an ad hominem assumption (because this is a bad person, therefore the movie/book/article is bad too). Disagree with Heidegger if you like, but try to spell out a reason other than the mere fact that he was a Nazi-sympathizer.
Hermeneutic of charity vs. suspicion: I’m not sure what the point is here. One can *choose* to use either hermeneutic, of course, but there is nothing *obligating* anyone to do so, such that a failure to use the “right” hermeneutic makes one dishonest or disingenuous (which is what The Passion’s opponents are trying to suggest). In other words, the question I see is not “CAN you use a hermeneutic of suspicion,” but “is everyone to be condemned if they fail to use a hermeneutic of suspicion.” Very different questions.
I haven’t either read or watched the Cider House Rules. Let’s say (for example) that you thought there were one or two scenes that seemed a bit pro-abortion, but otherwise it was a good and thought-provoking movie. Now say that you learn that the director or writer or whoever was caught driving drunk and made some off-the-wall comment about forcing his girlfriend to have an abortion. Are you now *obliged* — on pain of being denounced by right-thinking orthodox people — to re-watch the movie and find every nitpicky little thing that could, however remotely, be viewed as failing to condemn abortion? Or are you allowed to think of your movie-watching experience in the same way as before?
Seems to me that Eugene’s last post is right on the money. The film was used by so many on the right as a weapon in the culture wars that if they have now to reassess their support for it they might have also to question what else might have to be removed from their arsenal.
Donohue’s response to Scarborough in the Rutten piece is telling. No such excuses would be forthcoming if one of Donohue’s favorite targets had “misspoken” as he thinks Gibson did. How remarkable is it that Donahue should be asking for some nuance in the assessment of Gibson’s tirade? Would that other of his favorite targets could fare so well.
Now, do you think it was providential that the Rutten and Grubisich pieces should appear on the same day on parallel coasts, or is that going to be the seed of the next main stream media conspiracy theory?
Stuart, in reply to your reply to my comment, I’m sure you won’t mind if we let John McGreevy judge the how on-topic my and others’ comments are. I supplied the link only because you seemed interested in an article that discussed the lacuna you identified in the L.A. Times piece.
There is another potential “position,” apart from those you enumerated: a viewer may have found certain elements in the film anti-Semitic or anti-Jewish, but remained uncertain whether the film as a whole could be accurately described as anti-Semitic or anti-Jewish.
You argue that one shouldn’t allow an “ad hominem assumption” about an artist to govern one’s evaluation of his work. Certainly. But we no longer have to assume.
I would distinguish betrween the effect of the film taken as a work of art and the intentions of the Gibson as the film’s author, if one can use that language. The recent episode certainly justifies one’s interpretation of the author’s intent, conscious or subconscious. It does not of itself justify a reinterpretation of the effect of the film as a work of art. However, looking at the film again, one might notice things that one had previously let pass and that might legitimately lead to a reinterpretation.
Fair enough, I shouldn’t have said “off-topic.” Sorry about that.
Also: “You argue that one shouldn’t allow an “ad hominem assumption” about an artist to govern one’s evaluation of his work. Certainly. But we no longer have to assume.”
Again, a misstatement on my part. Whether one “assumes” or “knows” the artist’s character is completely beside the point. The point is, the interpretative method being urged here is ad hominem. “You’re a bad person; therefore your work of art is bad.”
I think we need to set out the categories more strictly. What do you mean by “bad”? The film is a bad piece of art? It’s morally wrong? For my part, I think there are grounds to claim both that it’s not an especially good piece of art and that it’s worthy of criticism for its anti-Semitic elements.
Your example, “You’re a bad person; therefore your work of art is bad,” oversimplifies the thought process, which seems much more specific than that. Mel Gibson apparently has deep-seated anti-Semitic thoughts. The Passion of the Christ is a filmic version of a drama that has historically lent itself to anti-Semitic expression. Gibson has never hid the fact that Anne Catherine Emmerich’s visions, as transcribed by Brentano, are important to him personally, and that they influenced the picture. This is obvious. “The Dolorous Passion” is littered with anti-Semitic epithets, many much stronger than those Gibson spewed, although somewhat less conspiratorial. If one was on the fence about the film’s anti-Semitism, why wouldn’t Gibson’s bigoted comments help in the decision?
Thanks to everyone for thoughtful comments. Quickly: I think I agree with Grant, Cathy and Gene. I’m less interested in the aesthetic quality of the film — which in many ways is quite high — than the ideological and theological implications. And surely those who argued that Gibson — who financed, directed and make the film — was in no way anti-Semitic, and that the film was in no way anti-Semitic, need to do some rethinking.
No
Stuart,
1. You’re ignoring the debates in literature, in theology, and in law, about the relevance of intention in interpretation of an author’s work. My sense is that you are advocating a strict New Criticism, without taking into account the critics of New Criticism.
2. The practical implications are staggering. It seems to me that if held consistently, your view would not allow indications of the intent of framers to be used in interpreting the law or the constitution, indications of the intent of donors to be used in interpreting chartibale trusts, etc. You are getting rid of a lot here. It’s one thing to say authorial intention isn’t everything, it’s something else again to say it’s not relevant.
2. You’re using the term ad hominem in such a broad and tendentious way that it would eviscerate much of the insights of virtue theory, which posits that human actions both shape and reflect human character. You set your self at odds with Aristotle and Aquinas, and much of the Catholic tradition on the relationship of acts to character.
3. As I noted above, it is a reasonable question the incident with Mel is indicicative of his real character. We agree on that. But don’t you think there are things to be said on two sides of that?
It seems to me you’re willing to give up an awful lot just to defend Mel.
First, I agree with McGreevy that *to the extent* that certain people defended The Passion on the grounds that Mel Gibson (as a person) could never do anything anti-Semitic, those people should rethink their arguments. That said, if you didn’t see anything anti-Semitic — at least not of major concern — in The Passion a month ago, I still don’t see any reason that you should be raked over the coals for declining to change your view of *what’s actually in the movie.*
More broadly — for those who claim that the movie is anti-Semitic — please define “anti-Semitic.” I get the feeling that people are using the term to mean anything from the Holocaust, to something as insignificant as “the Passion depicted Pilate as making a one-line derogatory comment that isn’t actually in the Gospels.” Remember that in other contexts, the term “anti-Semitic” is used to describe anyone who criticizes “neo-conservatives” or any military action by Israel, so various people might want to be careful in how expansively they define the term.
Cathy:
“1. You’re ignoring the debates in literature, in theology, and in law, about the relevance of intention in interpretation of an author’s work. My sense is that you are advocating a strict New Criticism, without taking into account the critics of New Criticism.”
I’d agree that you can take the author’s intent into account in many instances. All I’m saying is that it doesn’t change my experience of a film to know that the filmmaker makes bigoted comments when drunk. The film is what it is.
“2. The practical implications are staggering. It seems to me that if held consistently, your view would not allow indications of the intent of framers to be used in interpreting the law or the constitution, indications of the intent of donors to be used in interpreting chartibale trusts, etc. You are getting rid of a lot here. It’s one thing to say authorial intention isn’t everything, it’s something else again to say it’s not relevant.”
I’m not sure how we’ve learned anything about “authorial intent” here. What we know is what Gibson says when it’s 2 in the morning, when he’s emotionally agitated and drunk. What he said is quite bad, to be sure, but as we’ve seen, Gibson’s sober thoughts in the daytime are quite repentant. So do we know that his intent that went into The Passion resembles 1) his post-midnight drunken thoughts, or 2) his sober, daytime repentant thoughts? This is a serious question here: All of us (I assume) have done things that we regret, said things that we didn’t really mean. Are we (much less our works of art or writings) to be judged by our worst moments, or by what we do when we come to our senses?
In any event, I appear to have been mistaken: I wouldn’t have pegged you for a believer in original intent. Even Robert Bork doesn’t believe in original intent. (Original public understanding of the text, yes, but not intent.)
“2. You’re using the term ad hominem in such a broad and tendentious way that it would eviscerate much of the insights of virtue theory, which posits that human actions both shape and reflect human character. You set your self at odds with Aristotle and Aquinas, and much of the Catholic tradition on the relationship of acts to character.”
I apologize, but I have no idea what this has to do with film interpretation.
I think Stuart’s point about Heidegger is well made. Was it Germaine Grisez who said that a sign doesn’t have to go to Boston to point the way?
The point of course is that I think most people who were positively moved by the film–and I admit being one of them–didn’t make any anti-Semitic connection in the first place. We heard the concerns expressed, of course. We were aware of his father’s insane theories and the Emmerich connection. Personally, my radar was up, and as a person who was active in both celebrations of the 25th and 40th anniversaries of Nostra Aetate, I would like to think I had a personal stake in being a critical viewer of TPOC.
Here’s what I found. The film was graphic, shocking in places, perhaps even melodramatic, and certainly portrayed a kind of piety that is definitely counter-cultural and maybe even off-putting for some, but it cannot be denied that the movie (a) moved many more people than it upset and (b) did not inspire one single act of anti-Semitic violence. Not one.
It appears to me that the charges of anti-Semitism were experienced by people who enjoyed the film as the knee-jerk response and smoke screen projected by those who were not used to being confronted by the reality of a suffering Christ. That may not be fair, but that was the perception. Those who appreciated the film found it a refreshing antidote to the spaced out Zefferelli-Jesus and the scores of erstwhile Grizone Jesus wannabes we’ve been forced to swallow.
And while we can argue legitimately whether Christ actually suffered to the degree that Gibson’s Christ did–or more–it cannot be denied that it was often the same people who were moaning about alleged anti-Semitism in the film who were anguished by the violence in it. And I have to say, these protests against the violence of the film were frankly histrionic, because Kill Bill V2., which was out around the same time, was ten times as violent and completely pointless, and the liberal critics of Gibson’s film had little to say about that.
While I am not an art critic, I am of the opinion that once it leaves the artist’s hand, a piece of art is largely a projective instrument. It means what people bring to it. This is doubly true of a film which is not the product of one person, but teams of people who all have to contribute some of themselves to the product. In that regard I think that TPOC was a terrific Rorschach. People’s comments about the film, pro and con, said more about the people than the film they saw.
As for Gibson. Obviously, the poor man is clearly man’s a drunk. Alcoholism a terrible disease and I’m sorry for his struggle with it. He also has a lot of anti-Semitic crap floating around in his head (not a big surprise considering his family of origin), which he seems to (a) work very hard to keep in check and (b) recognize as a sin against his fellow men–if his public comments are to be believed (and the Catholic tradition of “charitable interpretation” would seem to oblige us to believe him). But honestly, it has no bearing on the film. Is Gibson anti-Semitic? Perhaps. But in my opinion, the question of whether the film was anti-Semitic or not is in the eye of the beholder. The people who want to see it that way will. Or in other words, the people who are generally uncomfortable with public displays of piety will see it that way. The people who don’t have that discomfort–won’t.
Stuart,
1. a.
If we agree that we can take authorial intent into account in many cases, I think we agree. I was reacting to your claim in your first post that “the movie is what it is, regardless of the inntermost thoughts” of Mel Gibson. You seemed to me to set up a dichotomy between what the movie is, and what the intention of the filmaker is. I don’t accept that dichotomy. The proposition I am defending is “Authorial intent is relevant –it’s not the only thing that matters in interpretation.” I interpret your earlier posts as denying that proposition, i.e., entirely denying the relevance of authorial intent.
What the film is –in part depdends upon what the director’s purposes are in making it. Joe Gannon put it well above.
1.b. We agree that the question is whether the drunken episode reveals anything about Mel’s character and beliefs.
2. You’re going from one extreme to another. I’m not an “original intent” person in the crude sense–I don’t think intent is the ONLY thing that matters. But I do think it matters in interpretation., and in the history of interpretation.
3. Acts shape character and character shapes acts. If Mel Gibson is a committed anti-Semite (and that is the question) that will affect how I interpret ambiguous scenes in the passion of the Christ. So making the film is a human act, a moral act, with a purpose, or nested set of purposes. I evaluate what those purposes are, in part in terms of the character of the ffilmaker.)
So if an ad hominem argument rules out my saying,
“Oh Jane has never stolen anything before in her life,” I believe her when she says that she walked out of the store while forgetting to pay, not intending to steal,” I think it goes to far. (What courts should allow in criminal trials is another question of course).
What we’re forgetting here is that the Passion of the Christ purported to be a tool of evangelization. Someone who is anti-Semitic is not going to be communicating the Gospel as I understand it.
Thanks for the response. I think we do agree that one *can* take authorial intent into account. But that doesn’t defend what the original post (and, in particular, the article to which it links) suggest.
The original post and the article to which it links suggest that authorial intent is the *only* thing that counts. Not only authorial intent either: The author’s drunken midnight outbursts are the only thing that counts. Well, not only that either: Anyone who defended the film previously is now *obligated* to re-evaluate the film based on the author’s drunken midnight outbursts.
What the post suggests, in other words, goes far, far beyond anything that you’re saying.
I still think that even if authorial intent matters, drunken outbursts probably shouldn’t. If you want an analogy to the Constitution: If we found an historical letter indicating that late one drunken night, James Madison said, “I hate those g–d—-Amish,” would that tell us anything whatsoever about how to interpret the Free Exercise Clause (and in particular, whether Wisconsin v. Yoder came out the right way)? I’d say absolutely not.
“What we’re forgetting here is that the Passion of the Christ purported to be a tool of evangelization.”
I didn’t see the movie itself that way, although certainly quite a few churches wanted to use it for evangelism. I thought the movie itself came across as a devotional experience — as an obvious reenactment of the Stations of the Cross — and as a depiction of a spiritual battle between Mary and Satan (Genesis 3:15 set the tone for much of the film, IMHO).
I think Mr. Popcak’s comments best express my own opinions.
Catholics across the spectrum found the movie worth seeing, even the folks who usually find Mr. Gibson’s movies too violent, heavy-handed, or fell Gibson is a light-weight.
Is it too corny to suggest beauty and truth can come out of some mighty imperfect vessels? Errol Flynn? Ezra Pound? Carravaggio?