Great thoughts here, Justin! I think you helpfully note the threads of nihilism and moral ambiguity, along with its sensible critique of "blind faith" that comes in and through Grant, who is just chewing on the scenery. I felt it was great fun to see his charming charisma attached to a sort of Joe Rogan, Jordan Peterson, i'Ve-DoNe-mY-oWn-rEsEaRcH smart guy who has such obvious holes in his understanding; Grant somehow makes these sort of naturally repulsive traits charming and even compelling in all his sweatered glory. Using the horror genre as the form here was also clever: indeed, anyone who has ever walked through a crisis of faith has indeed felt like they were descending into a dark and damp basement (a la John of the Cross' "Dark Night of the Soul"). And while your thematic tracing of the film hits on some solid points, I think you actually might be missing what I found in the ending, which was far more hopeful.
Two points I want to raise that I think help to warrant perhaps a different reading:
-First, both the doors of "Belief" and "Unbelief" lead to the same place, a clever comment, I felt, on the tension at play between certainty, faith, and doubt. In reality, as much as we might want to believe faith is some dichotomous, committed choice, the truth is that such things--if we truly follow them down--will lead us to the same place, a place where we have to reckon with how to respond to the horrors and pains and challenges of being human in the face of conflicting evidence. It's not an accident that the majority of the action happens in the basement or adjacent to the basement: at the intersection of faith and doubt, belief and unbelief, these girls have to choose how they want to respond. I think, in many ways, these aspects of the film encapsulate Lesslie Newbigin's great observation in his book, "Proper Confidence:" “One does not learn anything except by believing something, and -- conversely -- if one doubts everything one learns nothing. On the other hand, believing everything uncritically is the road to disaster. The faculty of doubt is essential. But as I have argued, rational doubt always rests on faith and not vice versa. The relationship between the two cannot be reversed. ”
-Second, and most importantly, I think you may have missed the very crux of the movie: even when Sister Paxton has revealed her lack of certainty when it comes to prayer, she still makes a commitment to pray, precisely because the act--in and of itself, as an extension of love--is worth doing. In other words, after her descent into the chamber of doubt and faith, belief and unbelief, she chooses faith: since she now sees certainty isn't possible, she chooses to pray on the other side of doubt, akin to Dostoyevsky's sentiment: “I believe in Christ and confess him not like some child; my hosanna has passed through an enormous furnace of doubt.” And then, as if that weren't enough, her prayer gets answered! She is saved in a clear "Divine intervention" sort of way: the little details presented earlier in the film (the board and nails, the small twitch of Sister Barnes) have come back around, and now in the ultimate eucatastophe or Deus ex machina, Sister Barnes saves her life, allowing her freedom to reflect upon such things. It seems to me the film's ambiguous ending wants to leave us with more hope: that, even in spite of the evidence we might see in a given moment, that there might be something to this whole notion of faith, that it might just be worth holding onto in the end as the best way to deal with the basements of our lives.
Would love to chat more and hear more of your observations - great work in your reviews!
Clint, good to hear from you! Thank you for offering such great insight on the film and my review. I love your first point and kind of wish I expounded on that idea in what I wrote. Even though Mr. Reed's trials are of a sadistic variety and ultimately about control (which I think is another reason the doors lead to the same location, and that location isn't the exit), the belief is tested and produces some sort of resolve in the girls. Concerning your second point, I did struggle to settle with my interpretation of the film, as there is a true escape (or deliverance) at the end. I love that she still prays even after effectively denouncing it; she's at her wit's end and goes to that, showing some semblance of faith or at least a last-ditch effort to believe. It was hard for me to reckon that with the butterfly scene at the last moment, as I noted in the review. I took it as the idea of having faith or hope at the end, but then blinking it away, if you will, to "reality." It's a bit ambiguous, as throughout the film, theology and spirituality are used by all of the characters to manipulate "the game" upon which Mr. Reed has thrust them. This essay was in part a way for me to ponder the complexity and various interpretations I could have come to during the film, and I'd honestly accept your points! It's much more hopeful. Thanks for reaching out!
Nice! Agreed on the butterfly point: it's pretty interpretively ambiguous. Is she choosing faith in spite of what she sees? Has she been freed from the "prison" of faith? Hard to tell, and I think you could probably lead either direction with your conclusions. Good stuff man - keep writing!
Great thoughts here, Justin! I think you helpfully note the threads of nihilism and moral ambiguity, along with its sensible critique of "blind faith" that comes in and through Grant, who is just chewing on the scenery. I felt it was great fun to see his charming charisma attached to a sort of Joe Rogan, Jordan Peterson, i'Ve-DoNe-mY-oWn-rEsEaRcH smart guy who has such obvious holes in his understanding; Grant somehow makes these sort of naturally repulsive traits charming and even compelling in all his sweatered glory. Using the horror genre as the form here was also clever: indeed, anyone who has ever walked through a crisis of faith has indeed felt like they were descending into a dark and damp basement (a la John of the Cross' "Dark Night of the Soul"). And while your thematic tracing of the film hits on some solid points, I think you actually might be missing what I found in the ending, which was far more hopeful.
Two points I want to raise that I think help to warrant perhaps a different reading:
-First, both the doors of "Belief" and "Unbelief" lead to the same place, a clever comment, I felt, on the tension at play between certainty, faith, and doubt. In reality, as much as we might want to believe faith is some dichotomous, committed choice, the truth is that such things--if we truly follow them down--will lead us to the same place, a place where we have to reckon with how to respond to the horrors and pains and challenges of being human in the face of conflicting evidence. It's not an accident that the majority of the action happens in the basement or adjacent to the basement: at the intersection of faith and doubt, belief and unbelief, these girls have to choose how they want to respond. I think, in many ways, these aspects of the film encapsulate Lesslie Newbigin's great observation in his book, "Proper Confidence:" “One does not learn anything except by believing something, and -- conversely -- if one doubts everything one learns nothing. On the other hand, believing everything uncritically is the road to disaster. The faculty of doubt is essential. But as I have argued, rational doubt always rests on faith and not vice versa. The relationship between the two cannot be reversed. ”
-Second, and most importantly, I think you may have missed the very crux of the movie: even when Sister Paxton has revealed her lack of certainty when it comes to prayer, she still makes a commitment to pray, precisely because the act--in and of itself, as an extension of love--is worth doing. In other words, after her descent into the chamber of doubt and faith, belief and unbelief, she chooses faith: since she now sees certainty isn't possible, she chooses to pray on the other side of doubt, akin to Dostoyevsky's sentiment: “I believe in Christ and confess him not like some child; my hosanna has passed through an enormous furnace of doubt.” And then, as if that weren't enough, her prayer gets answered! She is saved in a clear "Divine intervention" sort of way: the little details presented earlier in the film (the board and nails, the small twitch of Sister Barnes) have come back around, and now in the ultimate eucatastophe or Deus ex machina, Sister Barnes saves her life, allowing her freedom to reflect upon such things. It seems to me the film's ambiguous ending wants to leave us with more hope: that, even in spite of the evidence we might see in a given moment, that there might be something to this whole notion of faith, that it might just be worth holding onto in the end as the best way to deal with the basements of our lives.
Would love to chat more and hear more of your observations - great work in your reviews!
Clint, good to hear from you! Thank you for offering such great insight on the film and my review. I love your first point and kind of wish I expounded on that idea in what I wrote. Even though Mr. Reed's trials are of a sadistic variety and ultimately about control (which I think is another reason the doors lead to the same location, and that location isn't the exit), the belief is tested and produces some sort of resolve in the girls. Concerning your second point, I did struggle to settle with my interpretation of the film, as there is a true escape (or deliverance) at the end. I love that she still prays even after effectively denouncing it; she's at her wit's end and goes to that, showing some semblance of faith or at least a last-ditch effort to believe. It was hard for me to reckon that with the butterfly scene at the last moment, as I noted in the review. I took it as the idea of having faith or hope at the end, but then blinking it away, if you will, to "reality." It's a bit ambiguous, as throughout the film, theology and spirituality are used by all of the characters to manipulate "the game" upon which Mr. Reed has thrust them. This essay was in part a way for me to ponder the complexity and various interpretations I could have come to during the film, and I'd honestly accept your points! It's much more hopeful. Thanks for reaching out!
Nice! Agreed on the butterfly point: it's pretty interpretively ambiguous. Is she choosing faith in spite of what she sees? Has she been freed from the "prison" of faith? Hard to tell, and I think you could probably lead either direction with your conclusions. Good stuff man - keep writing!