“THERE’S a fine line between faith and madness.” So speaks the historian Adam Goodheart in The Mission (Cert. 12A). He is talking about John Chau, the young American missionary killed in 2018 while illegally contacting a tribe on a remote Indian Ocean island. The film from National Geographic is now in cinemas. We get background details of Chau, but also, by and large, even-handed assessment of the efficacy and ethics of missionary work.
Chau’s desire for dangerous undertakings stemmed from movies such as The Adventures of Robinson Crusoe, as well as Tintin and Christian comic books such as Through Gates of Splendour, in which missionaries are slaughtered. It feels unlikely that his moderate church background would have led to martyrdom. Only when drawn into Evangelical circles did he begin to believe that he had a destiny to travel into forbidden territory.
He hit on North Sentinel Island, part of the Andaman archipelago, the place from which King Kong emerged in the 1933 film. By law, the Indian government has protected that area and its indigenous people from outside interference. Perhaps this very prohibition spurred Chau into believing that doing Christ’s work knew no geographical or political boundaries. He paid pirates to ferry him there. Through access to his diary, social-network correspondence, and other documents, the Emmy-winning directors Amanda McBaine and Jesse Moss chart his progress.
Chau’s inner thoughts are visualised using the medium of animation which had helped to inspire his quest. Library footage occasionally supplements what we learn about him. The rest concentrates on capturing the reflections of relatives, friends, and those interested in the phenomenon of missiology. Few endorse Chau’s actions. A fellow-member of his “accountability group” declares: “My friend did something stupid and courageous and bold. And I wish I was that bold. I wish my faith was that solid.” It is left to others in the documentary to discover and question what kind of faith that actually is.
Dan Everett, now a professor of linguistics, was previously a longstanding missionary. Disillusioned about colonial evangelism and the belief that he had “the Truth”, he is sceptical. Proselytising is little more than telling a story about ourselves, not entering someone else’s.
Chau himself seems to confirm this cultural imperialism. Met with islanders’ suspicion and hostility, he asks whether this is Satan’s last stronghold. Countering such an outlook is a trainer of missionaries. She suggests that it is important for people to have the opportunity to say yes or no to Jesus. Much work is put into teaching students respect, sensitivity, and an understanding of ethnic differences.
Chau’s father, a psychiatrist, comes in at a different angle, convinced that his son had a messiah complex that led to what he perceives as delusional behaviour. Goodheart would concur that, historically, personality disorders played some part, alongside a Westernised view of Christianity, in missionary fervour. At best, the film depicts a naïve but well-intentioned person who wanting to bring others some good news. He feared that rejection would consign them to hell. The islanders believe that they are already in paradise.
JOURNEY TO BETHLEHEM (Cert. PG) is a foot-tapping rock nativity of a movie. It largely draws on St Matthew’s account. There are none of Luke’s canticles or shepherds abiding in the fields, for instance.
Filling in narrative gaps leads to some interesting speculation. There is a comic trio of Magi (pronounced madge-eye), whose party-piece is a rendition of “Three Wise Guys”. Balthazar is described as the astrologer, Caspar as a great scholar, and Melchior as a map man who eats a lot. He even suggests that they take a detour on the way to Bethlehem to sample the date harvest.
Meanwhile, down Nazareth way, Mary (Fiona Paloma), in the absence of brothers, has received an extensive education from her father. Now an impressive student of scripture, she wants to make this her life’s work. This feminist, liberationist perspective on our Lady is all very well until she is subjected to an arranged marriage to a stranger.
Mary protests to her conformist friends in song and dance all over town before happening upon a young man offering fruit. It is an all too predictable meet-cute moment; for (guess what?) this gorgeous hunk of eye-candy is Joseph (Milo Manheim) — not that the course of true love run smooth, owing to the intervention of a bumbling Gabriel, who tells Mary that she is pregnant. He is given short shrift in her feisty response, which has nothing of Luke’s passivity (“Be it unto me according to thy word”).
Fiona Paloma, who plays Mary in Journey to Bethlehem
Joseph takes some convincing before yielding to the film’s strong theme of ultimate trust. Is all unfolding as it should, the couple ask while dueting with “Can we make this work?”
This, essentially, is a rom com in the best American tradition. The story is conveyed through high emotions, colour, vigour, honesty, and, of course, nice white teeth. Rather than escapism, we experience the power of love that comes from above, despite a murderous Herod on their case. Antonio Banderas plays up the pantomime-villain image. It’s so stinking good to have the might of a king, he tells his son (Joel Smallbone), who, in a departure from history, is called Antipater here. Coming across as a lost soul, he serves as a moderating influence on his father’s unmitigated evil.
We may be spared on-screen slaughter of innocents but the threat to the Christ’s existence is horrifically signalled. All too soon will come the cross, the nails, the piercing. Flight to Egypt is imperative, but first comes the adoration of the Magi. Reeking of sheep dung from their journey, they apologise to the Son of God for a few hygiene issues that they have. Such comic relief effectively counterbalances the sheer terror of persecution. The Holy Family is by no means eternally optimistic. The question remains: is this is all part of God’s plan?
Like the medieval Mystery plays, the film speaks to its contemporary audience. Humanity is beset with the same challenges. Adam Anders both directs and has co-written the screenplay and songs. He provides a thoughtful interpretation of the nativity. An opening credit says: “Inspired by a true story . . . the greatest one ever told.” One is inclined not only to agree, but, on this showing, to enjoy it hugely, too.