Jesus, You Know
For collectible movie items, enter the movie, actor, director, etc. in the box below
Jesus, You Know
|
Review by Cathy Edsey Collins
for Reel Movie Critic
|
H½
|
Written and Directed by Ulrich Seidl. Also written by Veronika Franz. A documentary. Not Rated. From Austria with German subtitles. Running time: 87 minutes
|
A filmmaker, whose past efforts have demonstrated a penchant for painting uncompromising portraits of his documentary subjects ("Models," "Animal Love"), Austrian Ulrich Seidl pushes more buttons in his latest, "Jesus, You Know."
The entire film revolves around the prayers of six individuals ¾ literally. A half dozen totally empty churches provide the setting for this unusual piece, with each devotee the sole "star" in each scene as they pray aloud into the camera.
As a prologue to this litany of divine out-pouring, a man-possibly the voice of the director-recites a prayer that hopes for an understanding from the audience, that they "will hear the message of the film." Unusual, to say the least.
A tired, middle-aged woman opens the prayer fest, with the sounds of
outside traffic mingling into her weary concerns about her ill husband and children. Shots of her cleaning the church briefly interrupt her monologue.
An older man confesses in his prayer his problems with a relationship to Brigette and asks God to "help her understand me." Another woman expresses worry about her marriage to a Muslim. The camera cuts momentarily to a glimpse into their household, the woman sewing, her husband, a shadowy figure, watching television.
A young couple, praying individually, expresses worries about their relationship. A young man tells his God how his parents berate him for attending church too often.
The camera remains eerily static during these sessions, frozen in a medium shot, only occasionally pulling back for a long shot of the church interior. It is not surprising that this regimented, stilted style results in a ready cure for insomnia. Perhaps there is a method to Seidl's madness here - maybe his boring approach is his own sly comment on the futility of prayer. But when these individual prayers are interrupted several times, for a mini-concert by a church choir (also filmed in the same static fashion), the efforts to stay awake by the audience members in my theatre were embarrassingly apparent.
Yes, the stories told by each player in this daring documentary have potential for real drama. The skeletal facts of their life problems were intriguing. This paralyzed system of delivery, however, lacked any dramatic punch. Yawn.
Cathy Edsey Collins © 2003
|
|
|
