The Last Temptation of Christ (1988) is one of the most controversial films in the history of cinema. Martin Scorseseâs long struggle to see this picture realized and the vehement reactions his decidedly human depiction of Jesus inspired are well documented.1 Many theologians and theologically sensitive film critics have castigated the film for what they deem its heretical Christology. Lloyd Baugh, for example, accuses Scorsese of going far beyond his source material to diminish the character of Jesus and to suggest âa profound and unbridgeable gap between his humanity and his being the Son of God.â2 Steven Greydanus charges the filmmaker with producing a portrait of Christ that âis utterly antithetical to Christian belief and sentiment,â a representation not merely emphasizing Jesusâ humanity but âeffectively contradicting his divinity.â3
Nevertheless, a few commentators have defended Scorseseâs theological vision. According to Christopher Deacy, âThe Last Temptation does not deny Christâs divinity, but, in contradistinction to the traditional Christ epic, it stresses the unity between the divine and human natures such that, as an example and pioneer, Christ can fulfill the function of redeemer through already having undergone what it means to be fully human.â4 Graham Holderness also
These diametrically opposed evaluations of Scorseseâs Christology raise questions concerning how any filmmaker (or artist or novelist, for that matter) might portray Jesus as both God and man. Might this be too much to ask of an audiovisual medium with an average two-hour run time when theologians have grappled for centuries to adequately articulate what Kierkegaard famously called âthe absolute paradoxâ of the incarnation? Christian doctrine affirms the hypostatic union of two natures (divine and human) in the one person of Jesus, who is of one substance with the Father. Moreover, the Council of Chalcedon proclaimed âthe Christ in his humanity is like us in all things except sin.â6 One wonders whether this kind of Jesus can make a plausible, or even very interesting, film character.
Questions might also be raised about Jesusâ understanding of his own identity and purpose. Simon Gaine recently asked whether Jesus was âblessed from the very first moment of the incarnation with the vision of the essence of the triune God in his human mind?â7 He notes that while Catholic theologians up to the late 1950s followed Aquinas in answering this question in the affirmative, post-conciliar theologians express concerns that this view might compromise Christâs humanity. As early as 1961, Karl Rahner contended that such a view seemed âto be contrary to the real humanity of and historical nature of Our Lord.â8 Hans Urs von Balthasar worried âthat to introduce the beatific vision into Christâs soul would render it no longer a credible human soul.â9 These theologiansâmuch like Scorseseâpreferred to speak of Jesusâ self-understanding in terms of growth and maturation (cf. Luke 2:40).
Scorsese charged into this âdoctrinal minefield with reckless abandonâ10 when he chose to make his Jesus film an intimate character study rather than a traditional epic. Unlike an epic film marked by reverence and pageantry, a character study requires a protagonist susceptible to temptation who undergoes development within a dramatic storyline. Scorsese complained that biblical epics like The Greatest Story Ever Told or King of Kings suffered from an
In the pages that follow, I will argue that Scorseseâs Christologyâas explicitly depicted in Last Temptation, but anticipated in earlier Christ-figure filmsâcoheres in many ways with post-conciliar discussions of Jesusâ nature and messianic self-consciousness. First, I will briefly consider the ways in which many of Scorseseâs earlier films anticipate important themes in Last Temptation. This analysis reveals the filmmakerâs sustained theological preoccupations and provides an interpretive context for the cinematic portrait of Jesus that he ultimate creates. I will then situate The Last Temptation of Christ within Scorseseâs larger body of work as an auteur director and analyze the Christology this film creates.
1 Ordinary Saints or Jesus on the (Mean) Streets
Though often dismissed by critics as an artistic misstep, Last Temptation was for Scorsese perhaps his most important film, one he had anticipated making since he first storyboarded the Stations of the Cross at age ten.13 One might even say that Scorsese spent the first two decades of his professional career making secular drafts of Last Temptation.14 The Catholicism of his childhood provided a conceptual framework for his notions of sin, suffering, and redemption, as well as a set of visually moving images associated with crucifixion and
Several of Scorseseâs earlier films cohere thematically with Last Temptation. Especially notable is an early semi-autobiographical trilogy (consisting of the unfilmed screenplay Jerusalem, Jerusalem!, Whoâs That Knocking on My Door?, and Mean Streets), which explores one manâs struggle between flesh and spirit as he ages from adolescence into adulthood.15 In addition, Taxi Driver, Raging Bull, and Last Temptation (all written by screenwriter Paul Schrader) are often considered together. Schrader himself has described these three collaborations as a triptych on the theme of purgation through suffering.16 In all of these films, we find recurring motifs that would find full expression in Last Temptation.17
First, all of these films operate from the subjective viewpoint of tortured, alienated protagonists who are torn between carnal and spiritual desires. Charlie Cappa (Harvey Keitel), the protagonist in the Mean Streets trilogy,18 confesses to a priest his struggle with masturbation as an adolescent, is unable as a young adult to have sex with his girlfriend amid the religious artifacts that fill his parentsâ bedroom, and in later adulthood guiltily engages in an affair with his single neighbor. Taxi Driverâs Travis Bickle (Robert De Niro) regularly visits a pornographic movie theater, yet he is disgusted by the sex and filth that he sees from the driverâs seat of his cab and longs to clean up the city. Raging Bullâs Jake LaMotta (De Niro) cheats on his wife but ritually abstains from sex while preparing for a fight.
It is notable that all of these films exhibit a tendency to reduce âsinâ to sins of the fleshâa sexual temptation represented by pinup posters, exotic dancers, prostitutes, and other promiscuous âbroads.â Each male protagonist
Second, each of Scorseseâs protagonists comes to understand redemption as inextricably connected to suffering. Throughout the Mean Streets trilogy, Charlie identifies strongly with the Passion of Christ and Christian martyrdom. As he passes through the Stations of the Cross as an adolescent, his imagination conjures a modernized Passion story in the streets of Lower Manhattanâs East Side. At the end of Whoâs That Knocking, a broken-hearted Charlie contemplates religious statuary in a church. Scorsese cuts from one statue to another, favoring sadomasochistic images of penitential suffering. Particularly striking is St. Lucia holding her eyeballs on a plate having plucked them out to avoid breaking her vow of chastity.20 When he kisses the wounded feet of Christ, the young manâs lips come away bloody. In Mean Streets, Charlie resolves that pain is the only true penance and holds his finger over a flame whenever confronted by temptation. He also appoints himself the personal savior of a reckless young delinquent, Johnny Boy (De Niro), whom he views as the cross that he must bear. The trilogy ends with symbolic crucifixion when, trying to help Johnny Boy flee from a loan shark, Charlie is shot through the palm of his hand. In Taxi Driver, Travis Bickle undergoes (and inflicts) enormous physical suffering to save young Iris from a life of prostitution. Raging Bullâs Jake LaMotta seems to
Lest audiences miss this motif of redemption through suffering, Scorsese carefully imbues his ordinary saints with religious significance that identifies them in a variety of ways as very human Christ-figures. In Mean Streets, Charlie officiates at a mock Mass during a party before he and a friend launch into a playful recitation of the Passion narrative. An earlier version of the screenplay for this film reveals that Scorsese originally intended that the party be a masquerade, which Charlie would attend dressed as the crucified Christ.22
Scorsese exercises more subtlety with his Christ-figuring in Taxi Driver and Raging Bull. Seeing himself as a righteous man trapped in a sin-filled world, Travis Bickle passes prophetic judgment on the inhabitants of New York. He describes the city and its people as âsickâ and âvenalâ and longs for a day when âa real rain will come and wash all the scum off the streets.â He dubs himself âGodâs lonely manâ (quoting Thomas Wolfe), and his loneliness deteriorates into psychosis. Travis grows into his redemptive role as he develops a strong but distorted sense of personal morality. A vague desire to âdo something, yaâ know?â slowly evolves into resolved and deadly purpose. He purchases a small arsenal of guns and undergoes a ritual of purification before undertaking what he has gradually come to understand as his messianic role. He is Godâs agent, willing to sacrifice his own life to rescue Iris, whose situation epitomizes for him all that is wrong in the city.
It is debatable whether the inarticulate Jake LaMotta in Raging Bull ever comes to understand himself as a suffering Christ-figure. Scorsese, however, clearly sees the character in Christological terms, choosing to use boxing as an analogy of âthe soulâs struggle for redemption.â23 Scorseseâs camera movements and sound editing invest the filmâs fight scenes with surreal religious associations. Trainers minister to LaMotta like priests, mingling water and blood as they sponge his battered body and anoint his many wounds. He voluntarily endures inhuman beatings as a form of crucifixion. His blood dripping from the ropes becomes sacramental.
Finally and most importantly, these films illustrate what has come to be celebrated as Scorseseâs sacramental vision.24 His films reveal a world in which
Therefore, youthful Charlieâs visions of the Passion are concretized in the familiar and particular setting of the East Side. Scorseseâs New York stands in for the âJerusalemâ of the screenplayâs title.26 Likewise, young Charlie is repeatedly distracted from the old priestâs moralizing by the beautiful landscape of the retreat center. This recognition of the spiritual in the material world provides a much-needed check on (perhaps even a critique of) the guilt-driven dualism of the priestâs penitential theology.
As an adult, Charlie rejects the Churchâs penance in favor of making up for his sins âin the streets.â It is the streets, the tenements, the bar, and the boxing ringânot the Churchâthat provide the redemptive arena for all of Scorseseâs Christ-figures. In fact, the sacred is expressed most clearly and hopefully in Scorseseâs early films through the easy camaraderie of his male characters, especially when they are joyfully reciting the Mass with ordinary itemsâa scene that occurs in Jerusalem, Jerusalem! as well as Mean Streets.27
The absence of such camaraderie in Taxi Driver and Raging Bull suggests the tortured isolation of these protagonists. Travis cannot connect with other taxi drivers at an all-night diner; he can only sit among them in awkward silence.28 LaMotta destroys a potentially redemptive relationship with his brother, Joey (Joe Pesci), when he beats him senseless in a jealous rage. Scorsese shoots
These secular drafts, all of which were commercially successful and critically acclaimed, prepared Scorsese to tackle the one film project he had anticipated since the age of ten. In the ordinary saints Charlie Cappa, Travis Bickle, and Jake LaMotta, the director worked through many of his longstanding religious preoccupations. In Last Temptation, he created a âsaint of blasphemyâ based on the model that he had worked out in earlier films.
2 The Saint of Blasphemy
According to Paul Schrader, âMarty is fond of saying that Taxi Driver is my film and Raging Bull is De Niroâs and The Last Temptation of Christ is his.â29 While Last Temptation might be closest to Scorseseâs heart, it cannot be adequately understood apart from the rest of his film oeuvre, especially the projects discussed above. In them, the director cinematically fleshed out his notions of sin, suffering, and redemption. Yet Scorseseâs exploration of flawed, alienated protagonists, who are torn between flesh and spirit and driven toward martyrdom, finds its apotheosis in Last Temptation.
While Scorsese affirmed Jesusâ divinity and dual nature, he believed that the Catholic teachings of his youthâlike traditional gospel filmsâhad neglected Jesusâ humanity, presenting a Christ so divine that he practically âglowed in the dark.â30 For such a Jesus, ordinary human temptations would present no challenge at all. Scorsese wanted to explore the Saviorâs full humanity by showing him struggle to resist temptation and experience uncertainty over his identity and purpose. This is what drew him to Kazantzakisâs novel as source material. âI thought this neuroticâeven psychoticâJesus was not very different from the shifts of mood and psychology that you find glimpses of in the Gospels,â he explained.31
The film opens with a selective quotation from the preface of Kazantzakisâs novel. Given the importance of this epigraph for understanding the film that follows, it is worth quoting in full:
The dual substance of Christâthe yearning, so human, so superhuman, of man to attain God ⦠has always been a deep inscrutable mystery to me. My principle anguish and source of all my joys and sorrows from my youth onward has been the incessant, merciless battle between the spirit and the flesh ⦠and my soul is the arena where these two armies have clashed and met.
This quotation suggests that for Scorsese the film is as much an exploration of human nature as it is of the two natures of Jesus. Taking very seriously the incarnation, Scorsese (like Kazantzakis before him) assumes that Jesusâ full humanity meant that he was subject to the same carnal/spiritual struggle that all human beings face. The full divinity of Jesus only makes him more tortured by the clash of those metaphorical armies, not less susceptible to human temptations. In other words, Scorseseâs Christology is more Antiochene than Alexandrian insofar as the director accentuates Christâs humanity without denying his divinity.32
Scorseseâs Jesus (Willem Dafoe) is the directorâs most tortured and alienated protagonist. As in previous films, audiences are invited to share his point of view. The director employs a variety of devices to produce the filmâs intensely subjective feel. Because Scorsese keeps his camera in close proximity to his characters, Jesus frequently occupies much of the screen. Point-of-view shots make audiences see the world as he does. We are privy to his interior monologues and visions. We also share moments of aural subjectivity as Jesus hears ambient noises fade away or the footsteps of a potentially malevolent force following him. Movements of a shaky handheld camera communicate Jesusâ disorientation. âI wanted to express the energy that Jesus had, that I wanted Willem to have, so we adopted a very fluid and almost nervous way of moving the camera,â Scorsese recalls. âBecause He was unsure of Himself, the camera would be hiding and creeping around Him, caught between following Him and, at the same time, trying to pull back enough so that you could see the landscape.â33
The filmâs opening shots express the strain that the incarnate Jesus experiences as he gradually becomes aware in adulthood of his divine nature and purpose. The camera rushes through an olive grove before, at the shriek of an eagle, cutting to birdâs-eye (aka Godâs-eye) shot of Jesus lying on the ground
Indeed, he seems to experience divinity as an unseen, antagonistic presence haunting him. It causes him to writhe upon the ground like a man possessed or in the throws of a seizure. In voiceover, Jesus claims that the feeling begins as âvery tender, very loving.â But the human man is soon overwhelmed, and the tender feeling morphs into a painful sensation like a wild bird clawing at his scalp. âAnd then I remember,â he says. Exactly what he remembers we are not told. We do not hear the voices that Jesus later claims to have experienced, but we do hear the footsteps of an invisible stalker trailing behind him just before another seizures begins. The writhing Jesus once cries out âGod!â and in voiceover avows, âGod loves me. I know He loves me. I want Him to stop. I canât take the pain.â Jesus clearly associates these attacks with his peculiar relationship to God, which he finds overwhelming at the beginning of the film.
He attempts to resist the dawning awareness of his divinity through ascetic practicesâfasting, scourging himself, and wearing a nail studded belt. He also attempts to drive God awayââI want Him to hate me!ââby making crosses for the Romans. Yet, even these early scenes visually foreshadow his eventual redemptive purpose. Jesus measures a cross that he is fashioning by stretching his own arms across the beam. With his back to the camera, marks from self-flagellation remind viewers of the scourging he will one day endure. When he assists the Romans in crucifying a seditionist, he carries the crossbeam on his own shoulders through a jeering crowd in an ironic foreshadowing of the Via Dolorosa. Blood splatters across his face as the Jewish loyalist is nailed to the cross.35
Like post-conciliar Catholic theologians, Scorsese suggests that the incarnate Jesusâ self-understanding developed only gradually.36 Throughout most of the film he seems beset by doubts and uncertainty. Other characters repeatedly
He seeks spiritual direction first at a desert monastery and later from John the Baptist.37 Jeroboam, one of the monastery brothers, enviously points out that Jesusâ experience of God differs from his own. âGod actually makes himself known to you!â he marvels. âI donât know what God wants from me. ⦠Sometimes I think I feel Him but Iâm never really sure. But you always know!â Jesus merely scoffs at the idea that his situation is enviable and confesses to an acute awareness of his own sinfulness, which his exceptional intimacy with God only highlights.
Some critics of the film, like Steven Greydanus, objected strongly to the notion of a Jesus who is sinful and requires forgiveness, claiming that here Scorsese diverged irreversibly from orthodox theology.38 But for Scorsese, Jesus must have had the potential to sin to be truly human. Moreover, the âsinsâ he confesses at the monastery are almost all internal emotions (pride, fear, lust) not translated into external action. He shares humanityâs fallen state but retains the choice of whether or not to act upon his baser desires. In the words of theologian Brian Hebblethwaite, he is through the incarnation âsubjecting himself to the limitations of real humanity in order to achieve his purposes of revelation and reconciliation.â39 For Scorsese, this makes Jesus more relatable. âHe believes Heâs the worst sinner in the world,â the director explained. âI felt this was something I could relate to: this was a Jesus you could sit down with, have dinner or a drink with.â40
Moreover, Jesusâ sojourn at the monastery is bracketed by miracles confirming that he is no ordinary man. First, the monasteryâs dead master greets him upon arrival like an honored visitor. âI know who you are,â the dead man pronounces mysteriously. At the end of the segment, apple seeds that Jesus tosses to the ground instantaneously become a fruit-bearing tree. These miracles
When Jesus leaves the monastery, he enters the first of three successive stages in his evolving messianic self-understanding. As he slowly comes to terms with his identity and redemptive role, Kazantzakisâs/Scorseseâs Jesus transitions from pity for humanity (Love), to a prophetic demand for justice (The Ax), to a full realization of his true purpose (The Cross). These stages are cumulative and progress in a logical order to reveal the paradox between Godâs love for and judgment of a fallen world. Only the cross can resolve this paradox and set such a world to rights.
Having progressed to the love/pity stage in his self-understanding, Jesus stops a mob from stoning Mary Magdalene (Barbara Hershey) for sleeping with Romans and working on the Sabbath (cf. Jn 8:1-11). âI used to think God was angry too, but not anymore!â he tells them. âHe used to jump on me like a wild bird and dig his claws into my head. Then one morning He came to me. He blew over me like a cool breeze and said âStand up.â And here I am.â Delivering his longest sermon, Scorseseâs Jesus tells the Parable of the Sower before moving into a colloquial version of Lukeâs Beatitudes. He identifies the sowerâs seed as love and those who receive and express it as blessed. His audience, however, misconstrues his message and begins a riot calling for Roman blood.
This ill-fated sermon is one of many scenes in which Scorsese articulates his (Antiochene/post-conciliar) Christology by appropriating and re-visioning iconic moments from more traditional (Alexandrian/pre-conciliar) Jesus films. In Nicholas Rayâs King of Kings, for example, Jesus stands authoritatively atop a mountain to deliver his first sermon with ponderous solemnity to an enraptured multitude. Scorsese locates Jesus in a more intimate setting, and places him on the same level as a much smaller crowd. He speaks haltingly, âseeming at times to plead for approval from his audience.â41 Rather than gaze at Jesus in enraptured silence or raise questions that are easily and authoritatively answered, the audience in Last Temptation jeers at Jesus and fundamentally misconstrues his message. In contradistinction to the glow-in-the-dark Jesus of traditional cinema, Scorseseâs Christ is unambiguously human.
Jesusâ messianic consciousness and message continue to evolve after his encounter with John the Baptist. Scorsese films this scene with disturbing zooms, oblique camera angles, jump cuts, pounding music, and frenetic movement. But, as Jesus and the Baptist come face to face, the music and singing
The first desert temptation takes the form of a snake that speaks seductively with Mary Magdaleneâs voice.43 âYouâre afraid of being alone,â she says. âYouâre just like Adam. He called me, and I took one of his ribs and made it into a woman.â An earlier vision at the monastery had featured twin snakes (representing the carnal and spiritual forces warring inside Jesus) that also spoke with Magdaleneâs voice. More snakes and other reptiles decorate her home/brothel, and her body is adorned with leafy tattoos. These images are, of course, drawn from Genesis 3 and the long interpretive history that associates Eve (and, thus, all women) with temptation.
In keeping with the virgin/whore dichotomy in Scorseseâs other films, most of the women in Last Temptation (excluding Jesusâ mother) become ciphers for the flesh that he must deny. Both film and novel are structured around traditional dualisms: spirituality/sexuality, suffering/pleasure, and male/female. But Scorsese goes beyond the novel in making sex, marriage, and domesticity Jesusâs primary temptations.44
The film places female nudity on display, subjecting Magdalene and others to the voyeuristic gaze of male characters, while obscuring male nudity.45 This tendency is especially evident in the filmâs famous brothel scene. Whereas in
Scorsese explained his choice to place Jesus inside the brothel by saying:
[T]he point of the scene was to show the proximity of sexuality to Jesus, the occasion of sin. ⦠And I wanted to show the barbarism at the time, the degradation to Mary. Itâs better that the door is open. Better there is no door. The scene isnât done for titillation; itâs to show the pain on her face, the compassion Jesus has for her as he fights his sexual desire for her.46
This extended scene suggests Jesusâs conflicted desires as he watches the carnal temptations on display. Yet, he refuses to indulge his sexual desires just as he resists the first desert temptation.
The second desert temptation takes the form of a lion that speaks in the voice of Judas. The lion of Judah offers power and an earthly kingdom, which Jesus easily resists. The use of Judasâ voice in this scene is interesting. Just as Scorsese associates femininity with temptation, he associates masculinity with power. Scorseseâs Jesus is defined in part by comparison to a very masculine Judas. To an extent Last Temptation, like Mean Streets, is a buddy film with complimentary characters that are opposites in every way. Where Judas is articulate, confident, and physical, Jesus is tongue-tied, indecisive, and passive. Scorsese reduces the other disciples to an indistinct mass, so that Judas becomes Jesusâ closest confidant as well as his conscience and enforcer.47 Jesus seems dependent on and sometimes even submissive to his friend. Judas often occupies a dominant position within the frame during their conversations, standing over Jesus or cradling him in his arms like a child or a lover.48 Like
One might reasonably wonder whether both Keitelâs Judas and Dafoeâs Jesus function as aspects of Scorseseâs onscreen alter ego, as did Charlie and Johnny Boy.50 Judas represents a more traditional model of masculinity as opposed to the relatively passive and effeminate Jesus. The former struggles to free Israel from Roman oppression, whereas the latter wallows in soul-searching angst. The two argue over whether Jesusâ ministry should prioritize freeing the body (Judas) or the spirit (Jesus). Judas, thus, represents another carnal temptation (specifically, the use of physical violence in socio-political reform), which Jesus must overcome.
The third desert temptation takes the form of a flame which Jesus first calls âarchangelâ and then âSatan.â This temptation appeals to Jesusâs vanity, tempting him to misuse his divine powers to rule the world at Satanâs side. When Jesus again resists, he sees an apple tree whose fruit is filled with blood. At the foot of the apple tree is the ax that represents the second phase of his messianic evolution.
Jesus wields this ax in the famous bleeding heart scene for which there is no parallel in the novel. Scorsese adds an expressionistic feel by drenching the scene in red light. Jesus emerges suddenly from the darkness, startling his disciples. Removing the heart from his chest, he invites them to join him in a war against Satan.51 Blood, always an important symbol in Scorseseâs films, drips from the organ into a pool below staining the water red. âI believed in love. Now I believe in this!â he shouts as he lifts the ax. Thus, Jesus takes on the Baptistâs prophetic mantel and the identity of a militaristic messiah.
The first battle in this war against Satan targets demons and illness. In a surrealist scene paired with slow motion and rhythmic music, Jesus performs several exorcisms before collapsing with exhaustion into the arms of Judas. However, the miracle worker is immediately rejected in Nazareth. A well-to-do crowd dismisses him as the son of Mary and jokes that he must have been driven insane by unspent semen.52
The next major transition in Jesusâ messianic consciousness begins with the raising of Lazarus. Although this miracle appears only as a second-hand report in the novel, Scorsese transforms it into one of the filmâs longest sequences.53 We hear tumultuous sounds of mourning, as Jesus bids his disciples to remove the stone. Scorsese does not shy away from the reality of human decomposition, directing the cast to react as though a horrible smell emerges from the tomb. The darkness of the cave and the sound of buzzing flies further highlight the specter of death. The next shot is framed from inside the grave as Jesus commands Lazarus to rise. A decomposing hand shoots out toward him and almost pulls Jesus into the tomb before Lazarus emerges in grave clothes. These almost gothic elements and Dafoeâs expression of fear and astonishment depart from the usual cinematic staging of this iconic scene. Scorsese explains his intention for these unconventional choices: âThe minute Christ raises Lazarus, He knows that He is God. And with Lazarusâs hand clasping His, pulling Him into the tomb, it gave a sense of death pulling Him in, an image of the struggle between life and death. Death which He willâdespite being Godâhave to suffer as a man.â54 It also helps him begin to realize what his own messianic vocation will cost him.
Armed with knowledge of his divinity, Jesus takes the action that will lead to his death: cleansing the temple. Scorsese divides this action into two separate sequences. The first confrontation with temple priesthood seems designed to provoke. Jesus rejects the law and, proclaiming himself the Saint of Blasphemy, claims identity with God.55 The second ends with stigmata, foreshadowing the
In this pivotal scene, Scorsese makes his post-conciliar Christology explicit. Judas complains, âEvery day you have a different plan! First itâs love, then itâs the ax, and now you have to die! What good could that do?â Jesus responds, âAt first I didnât understand myself ⦠I canât help it. God only talks to me a little at a time. He only tells me as much as I need to know. ⦠Now I finally understand! All my life Iâve been followedâby voices, by footsteps, by shadows. And do you know what the shadow is? The cross. I have to die on the cross and I have to die willingly.â At this point in the film, he finally embraces his messianic role as expressed by a selective quotation of Isaiah 53 (verses 4a and 7): âHe has borne our faults, he was wounded for our transgressions, yet he opened not his mouth. Despised and rejected by all, he went forward without resisting like a lamb led to the slaughter.â Jesus even realizes that resurrection will follow in three days.
However, this does not lessen his humanity as illustrated in Gethsemane, which Scorsese links visually and thematically to the filmâs first scene. Once again the camera moves through an olive grove as we follow Jesus into the garden. Again the camera angle shifts to a Godâs-eye view looking down upon his kneeling form. But instead of cutting abruptly to an earthly shot, this time the camera tracks slowly downward to create a head-and-shoulders shot as though God has descended from heaven to sit before His son. Indeed, Jesus prays, âFather in heaven, Father on earth, the world that youâve created, that we can see, is beautiful. But the world that youâve created that we canât see is beautiful too. ⦠I donât know which is more beautiful.â
Scooping up two handfuls of earth and inhaling its fragrance, he echoes the Eucharistic words, âThis is my body too.â These words did not appear in the novel but were added by Scorsese to what is perhaps the most sacramental moment in the film. Along with camera angles and mise-en-scéne, they overcome Kazantzakisâs irreconcilable dualism between spirit and flesh, heaven and earth.57 Scorseseâs Jesus does not leave behind his connection with the earth as he becomes aware of his divine nature and purpose. He never renounces the created world and all its pleasures in order to embrace an abstract divinity.
The film moves quickly toward crucifixion. The redemptive suffering Jesus undergoes throughout the film, reaches a crescendo at the cross. Scorsese makes full use of his directorial art to accentuate the agony of his protagonist aesthetically. Prior to Mel Gibsonâs The Passion of the Christ, Scorseseâs Last Temptation was the bloodiest and most graphic Passion ever shot. Yet, unlike Gibson, Scorsese does not focus on blood and gore for its own sake. The wounded Jesus becomes an object of devotion, considered from all angles, as the camera pans and switches from full-shot to close up. Scorsese films the Via Dolorosa in slow motion to the accompaniment of wailing music. To imitate the visual aesthetic of Boschâs sixteenth-century painting Christ Carrying the Cross, Scorsese tied ropes around the jeering crowd surrounding Jesus âso they could only move one step at a time.â58
The infamous final temptation sequence is introduced by another auditory allusion. Noise crescendos as the camera turns ninety degrees onto its side and Jesus shouts, âFather! Why have you forsaken me?â Sudden silence descends as the crowd is muted and the Tempter appears. Here Scorsese makes several significant changes to the novel. First, he imagines the Tempter as an angelic little girl rather than a being that constantly changes form. After removing the crown and nails, she kisses Jesusâ wounds (echoing Catholic devotional practice) and leads him away from the cross. Magdalene too anoints Jesusâ wounds and bathes him in a reverse pietà . These redemptive elements in Scorseseâs film are all absent from novel. Graham Holderness notes âthe poetic impact of this moment ⦠has all the beauty of a renaissance deposition together with the highly charged eroticism of medieval Catholic martyrology.â59 Green vistas replace the previously barren landscape, and languid long shots replace tormented close-ups. What is deceptive illusion in the novel becomes a sacramental moment in the film, depicting the âreconciliation of spirit and flesh in a sacramental vision of a re-enchanted world.â60
In the fantasy sequence, Jesus lives out his life as an ordinary man married first to Magdalene and then to the sisters, Mary and Martha. Only on his deathbed, does Judas recall him to the cross where he must fulfill his messianic role. The elderly Jesus struggles back toward the cross, begging God to accept him although he was tempted to forsake his redemptive duty. He abruptly awakens from this death-throes fantasy on the cross. As he dies triumphantly, red and white lights fill the screen to the sound of ululation and bells. Scorsese later
3 Scorseseâs Christology
Scorseseâs moral sensitivity and obsession with guilt and penance are evident in all his films. More than anything, this personal vision sets him apart as an auteur filmmaker. An examination of his larger body of work reveals that the protagonists in Scorseseâs films tend to be flawed and tortured, torn between spiritual and carnal desires. Yet, the director resists imagining a stark dualism between flesh and spirit. Spirituality and materiality also interpenetrate one another in his films. Divine things can only be revealed in and through the material world. All the more so in Last Temptation is Jesusâ divinity revealed in his humanity and in the effort he must exert to overcome human temptations.
Cinematic depictions of Jesus will inevitably court controversy. However, the strangeness of Last Temptation has been magnified by the tendency to interpret this picture primarily within the Jesus film tradition. Seen within the context of its directorâs larger oeuvre, the film comes into focus as a corrective to the mostly divine Jesus of Scorseseâs youth. In its place Scorsese crafts a Jesus who is fully human as well as fully divine. This is a Jesus more or less in keeping with the Antiochene trend of post-conciliar Catholic Christology.
Works Cited
Baugh Lloyd. âMartin Scorseseâs The Last Temptation of Christ: A Critical Reassessment of Its Sources, Its Theological Problems, and Its Impact on the Public.â In Scandalizing Jesus: Kazantzakisâs The Last Temptation of Christ Fifty Years On. Ed. Darren Middleton (New York: Continuum, 2005).
Blake Richard A. The Indelible Catholic Imagination of Six American Filmmaker (Chicago: Loyola Press, 2000).
Blake Richard A. âRedeemed in Blood: The Sacramental Universe of Martin Scorsese.â Journal of Popular Film and Television 24, no. 1 (1996): 1â20.
Bliss Michael. The Word Made Flesh: Catholicism and Conflict in the Films of Martin Scorsese (London: Scarecrow Press, 1995).
Braudy Leo. âThe Sacraments of Genre: Coppola, DePalma, Scorsese.â Film Quarterly 39, no. 3 (1986): 17â28.
Casillo Robert. Gangster Priest: The Italian American Cinema of Martin Scorsese (Toronto: University of Toronto Press, 2006).
Chattaway Peter T. âBattling the Flesh: Sexuality and Spirituality in The Last Temptation of Christ.â In Scandalizing Jesus: Kazantzakisâs The Last Temptation of Christ Fifty Years On. Ed. Darren Middleton (New York: Continuum, 2005).
Christie Ian and David Thompson, eds. Scorsese on Scorsese. (London: Faber & Faber, 1996).
Corliss Richard. ââ¦And Blood.â In Martin Scorsese Interviews. Ed. Peter Brunette. (Jackson: University Press of Mississippi, 1999).
Corliss Richard. âBody and Blood: An Interview with Martin Scorsese.â Film Comment 24, no. 5 (SeptemberâOctober 1988): 38â42.
Deacy Christopher. Screen Christologies: Redemption and the Medium of Film (Cardiff: University of Wales Press, 2001).
Ebert Roger. Scorsese by Ebert (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 2008).
Ehrenstein David. The Scorsese Picture (New York: Carol Publications, 1992).
Friedman Lawrence S. The Cinema of Martin Scorsese (New York: Continuum, 1997).
Gaine Simon. Did the Savior See the Father? Christ, Salvation, and the Vision of God (London: T&T Clark, 2015).
Greydanus Steven D. âThe Last Temptation of Christ: An Essay in Film Criticism and Faith,â Decent Films, 2000. www.decentfilms.com/articles/lasttemptation.
Hebblethwaite Brian. The Incarnation: Collected Essays in Christology (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1987).
Holderness Graham. Rewriting Jesus: Christ in 20th Century Fiction and Film (London: Bloomsbury, 2015).
Humphries-Brooks Stephenson. Cinematic Savior (Westport: Praeger, 2006).
Middleton Darren J.N., ed. Scandalizing Jesus: Kazantzakisâs The Last Temptation of Christ Fifty Years On (New York: Continuum, 2005).
Miles Margaret R. Seeing and Believing: Religion and Values in the Movies (Boston: Beacon, 1996).
OâBrien Catherine. Martin Scorseseâs Divine Comedy (London: Bloomsbury, 2018).
Resin David. âInterview with Martin Scorsese.â Playboy (April 1991): 57.
See, for example, Lawrence S. Friedman, The Cinema of Martin Scorsese (New York: Continuum, 1997), 152â54. The filmâs source material, Nikos Kazantzakisâs novel O teleftaÃos peirasmós (1951), was equally controversial. The Greek Orthodox Church nearly excommunicated Kazantzakis as a result of this novel, the Catholic Church placed it on the Vaticanâs Index of Forbidden Texts, and conservative Protestants in the U.S. attempted to have it banned from local libraries (Darren J.N. Middleton, ed., Scandalizing Jesus: Kazantzakisâs The Last Temptation of Christ Fifty Years On (New York: Continuum, 2005), xvi).
Lloyd Baugh, âMartin Scorseseâs The Last Temptation of Christ: A Critical Reassessment of Its Sources, Its Theological Problems, and Its Impact on the Public,â in Scandalizing Jesus: Kazantzakisâs The Last Temptation of Christ Fifty Years On, ed. Darren J.N. Middleton (New York: Continuum, 2005), 188.
Steven D. Greydanus, âThe Last Temptation of Christ: An Essay in Film Criticism and Faith,â Decent Films, 2000, www.decentfilms.com/articles/lasttemptation.
Christopher Deacy, Screen Christologies: Redemption and the Medium of Film (Cardiff: University of Wales Press, 2001), 87.
Graham Holderness, Rewriting Jesus: Christ in Twentieth Century Fiction and Film (London: Bloomsbury, 2015), 51.
Simon Gaine, Did the Savior See the Father? Christ, Salvation, and the Vision of God (London: T&T Clark, 2015), 144.
Ibid., 3.
Ibid., 4.
Ibid., 129.
Holderness, 47.
Both of these 1960s Jesus films receive a brief mention in a conversation between cinephile J.R. (aka Charlie) and âthe Girlâ in Scorseseâs Whoâs That Knocking at My Door? (Ian Christie and David Thompson, eds., Scorsese on Scorsese (London: Faber & Faber, 1996), 133.
David Ehrenstein, The Scorsese Picture (New York: Carol Publications, 1992), 109.
Richard Blake, After Image: The Indelible Catholic Imagination of Six American Filmmakers (Chicago: Loyola Press, 2000), 26.
Richard Corliss, âBody and Blood: An Interview with Martin Scorsese,â Film Comment 24, no. 5 (SeptemberâOctober 1988): 42.
Scorsese described Mean Streets as a âreligious statementâ that asks whether one can be a saint in a fallen world where violence and suffering are the norm (Friedman, 12).
Ibid., 63. Scorsese and Schrader later return to this theme in Bringing Out the Dead (1999), and Scorsese revisits it without Schrader in Silence (2016).
Because these films are thoroughly discussed elsewhere in this volume, I will not do so here. I assume that readers are familiar with the storyline and content of these films.
This character was called J.R. in Jerusalem, Jerusalem! and in Whoâs That Knocking on My Door? Mean Streets changes the protagonistâs name to Charlie, which I will call him throughout this chapter for the sake of clarity. Harvey Keitel plays the character in both realized films. Although Jerusalem, Jerusalem! remains unfilmed, the script includes production notes that permit us to visualize the form it would have taken. It is described in detail by Robert Casillo, Gangster Priest: The Italian American Cinema of Martin Scorsese (Toronto: University of Toronto Press, 2006), 133â141.
Whoâs That Knocking at My Door? includes a scene that clearly associates motherhood with the Virgin. In it the image of an Italian mother (played by Scorseseâs own mother) is reflected in mirror by a statue of Madonna and Child as she prepares a dish traditionally served on the Feast of the Immaculate Conception. Catherine OâBrien, Martin Scorseseâs Divine Comedy (London: Bloomsbury, 2018), 128.
Ibid., 19.
Deacy, 121â22.
Casillo, 213.
Ibid., 228.
See, for example, Richard A. Blake, âRedeemed in Blood: The Sacramental Universe of Martin Scorsese,â Journal of Popular Film and Television 24: 1 (1996): 1â20; Michael Bliss, The Word Made Flesh: Catholicism and Conflict in the Films of Martin Scorsese (London: Scarecrow Press, 1995), 92; Leo Braudy, âThe Sacraments of Genre: Coppola, DePalma, Scorsese,â Film Quarterly 39: 3 (1986): 17â28.
Holderness, 51.
The title of the film (Jerusalem, Jerusalem!) is taken from Jesusâ lament over the holy city in Matt. 23:37 and Luke 13:24.
Scorsese borrowed this action from the opening scene of James Joyceâs Ulysses, where the irreverent Buck Mulligan recites the Mass over a bowl of lather before shaving. In Jerusalem, Jerusalem!, the boys imitate the Mass with cups of tea in a Japanese restaurant. Scorsese empties the scene of its impiety and pairs it with joyous Vivaldi music making this a sacred moment bridging âthe ecclesial and everyday worlds,â (Casillo, 134).
This situation appears to change in the filmâs heroic coda. However, I read those scenes as a subjective wish-fulfillment fantasy sequence in which all the people in Travis Bickleâs life hail him as a hero. In this sense, it parallels the fantasy sequence at the end of Last Temptation. For a different interpretation of this sequence as a kind of âresurrectionâ for Travis see Deacy, 117â18.
Friedman, 8.
Christie and Thompson, 124.
Ibid., 116â17.
Scorseseâs Antiochene theology was noted by Deacy, 86.
Christie and Thompson, 139.
Scorseseâs limited budget on Last Temptation only allowed the use of a jib-arm with a height limit of seven feet for high angles (OâBrien, 132).
This scene is one of many in which Scorsese appropriates and ironically revises iconic scenes from earlier Jesus films. Here an image (Jesus carrying a cross through a jeering crowd) that is typically associated with pathos-filled triumph becomes in Last Temptation an example of Jesusâ unconscious rebellion against his messianic calling.
A lapsed Catholic, Scorsese notes that he last went to confession in 1965. âIâve been confessing most of the time since then on film,â he later recalled (David Resin, âInterview with Martin Scorsese,â Playboy (April 1991): 57).
The monastery is anachronistically portrayed like a settlement of the early Christian fathers, whereas the John the Baptist scene resembles a Pentecostal revival (Stephenson Humphries-Brooks, Cinematic Savior: Hollywoodâs Making of the American Christ (Westport: Praeger, 2006), 93).
Greydanus, âThe Last Temptation of Christ.â
Brian Hebblethwaite, The Incarnation: Collected Essays in Christology (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1987), 22.
Christie and Thompson, 117.
Deacy, 86.
Similar auditory hallucinations occur later in this film, just before the fantasy sequence on the cross and in Taxi Driver when Travis Bickle sits among his fellow cabbies in an all-night diner. For Travis (and film audiences) all sounds fade out except that of tablets fizzing in a glass of water.
Scorsese follows the novel in making Magdalene and Judas childhood friends of Jesus. It is strongly implied that Jesus was betrothed to Magdalene and that she became a prostitute after he broke the betrothal. For this reason, Jesus feels responsible for Magdaleneâs circumstances. The biblical Mary Magdalene is described neither as a prostitute nor as a promiscuous woman.
According to Margaret Miles, Last Temptation âreflects a modernistic reduction of all sins to sins of the flesh,â (Margaret R. Miles, Seeing and Believing: Religion and Values in the Movies (Boston: Beacon, 1996), 37). However, I understand the film to include domesticity as part of Jesusâ temptation both here and during his final vision from the cross. Marriage and family would constitute divergence from his messianic purpose.
Scorsese avoids frontal male nudity in the filmâs two crucifixion scenes and at the vigil for the monastery master. He has no such reluctance to display female nudity in ways that go beyond the demands of the novel. Peter T. Chattaway, âBattling the Flesh: Sexuality and Spirituality in The Last Temptation of Christ,â in Scandalizing Jesus: Kazantzakisâs The Last Temptation of Christ Fifty Years On, ed. Darren J.N. Middleton (New York: Continuum, 2005), 166â67.
Richard Corliss, â⦠And Blood,â in Martin Scorsese Interviews, ed. Peter Brunette (Jackson: University Press of Mississippi, 1999), 121.
Humphries-Brooks, 85â86.
Some interpreters describe the relationship between these two male characters as homoerotic. See, for example, Baugh, 179. However, Casillo convincingly argues that physically affectionate behavior among men is typical of Italian American culture, as well as of ancient Near Eastern culture. He claims that Scorseseâs predilection toward masculine friendships is more properly termed homophilic rather than homoerotic (Casillo, 163).
Judas is sent by fellow nationalists to assassinate Jesus whom they view as a Roman collaborator. Instead he becomes Jesusâs first and closest disciple, although he threatens to kill him should he stray from a messianic path. Later another nationalist (Saul) assassinates Lazarus. Scorsese depicts this illicit anti-Roman organization much like the mob in his gangster films.
Ebert equates Judas with Scorsese, noting the Keitel was his screen proxy in earlier films (Roger Ebert, Scorsese by Ebert (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 2008), 104).
Catholic sacred heart iconography represents Jesusâs redeeming love. Baugh criticizes Scorsese for literalizing and misinterpreting both this imagery and transubstantiation at the Last Supper where the wine seems literally to become blood (Baugh, 75.) However, this criticism overlooks the possibility that expressionistic scenes like this one are visionary departures from the charactersâ everyday reality.
Jesusâs celibacy mirrors the sexual frustration of many Scorsese protagonists. According to Schrader, the first three films he wrote for Scorsese are âall of the same cloth: theyâre about lonely, self-deluded, sexually inactive people,â (Friedman, 153â54).
Scorsese claims to have written this all-important scene himself (Christie and Thompson, 143).
Ibid. Whereas the scene typically is intended to confirm Jesusâ divinity for audiences, Scorsese makes the scene of moment of self-realization for Jesus.
The temple courtyard flows with sacrificial blood licked up by dogs. Much has been made of the filmâs numerous images of animal slaughter and sacrifice. Scorsese has expressed fascination with the association between bloodletting and religion. He describes the move from human sacrifice to animal sacrifice to Jesusâs crucifixion to the sacrifice of the Mass as a âcivilizingâ of religions (Ibid., 118).
Scorsese often appears in cameo roles in his films as the instigator for his protagonistsâ redemptive action. He plays the shooter in Mean Streets, the jealous husband in Taxi Driver, the make-up artist in Raging Bull, and Isaiah in Last Temptation.
Holderness, 51.
The crucifixion scene was inspired by details in Biblical Archaeology Review and Da Messinaâs fifteenth-century painting The Crucifixion (Christie and Thompson, 138).
Holderness, 61.
Ibid., 57.
OâBrien, 149.