The Gospel According to St. Matthew (1964)
This is such a stately, respectful, yet contemporary (and dare I say, Italian) production, in quiet black and white, it's hard to find fault with it. In some ways, I think it does exactly what it intends. It mixes long shots with close ups. It moves with clarity and sharp (no dissolve) cuts from face to face. It uses African-American gospel and Bach. It depends on solemnity, and it uses actors that have the faces, and demeanors, to be utterly solemn and strong.
All the actors are amateurs. Pasolini was an atheist. The triumph at the end is a matter of record. It's all here.
The question might be (for some) whether it is nevertheless a movie you want to watch. And I say, absolutely. You do have to like, or learn to like, movies that are about quiet ambiance, about passive expressions that say more than intense extroverted acting. The black and white photography, something of a throwback during this early 1960s production, gives it even more of the timeless, almost melancholy depth that keeps it going, owing something to the Dreyer's Joan of Arc, I think.
It's important to know this is not really an interpretation of the gospel, but a reading of it. The filming of course required actors, but it tries to be factually straight forward. That's incredibly hard to pull off without arrogance or religiosity. But Pasolini does it. The down side to this is that it's slow, or even (no sacrilege here), boring. I mean, I read the book.
For me, what makes it terrific is not only how it is filmed (the camera-work and editing) and the faces (all those faces, with the camera still and focused on them), but the sense of reality here. The holiness is removed, but not the sacred seriousness. It makes it seem possible in a very real way. The people, the places, all of it is not historic, not in particular, but the effect, the mood, the force of it all is profound. Even for a non-believer. It's quite something to get swept into.
This is such a stately, respectful, yet contemporary (and dare I say, Italian) production, in quiet black and white, it's hard to find fault with it. In some ways, I think it does exactly what it intends. It mixes long shots with close ups. It moves with clarity and sharp (no dissolve) cuts from face to face. It uses African-American gospel and Bach. It depends on solemnity, and it uses actors that have the faces, and demeanors, to be utterly solemn and strong.
All the actors are amateurs. Pasolini was an atheist. The triumph at the end is a matter of record. It's all here.
The question might be (for some) whether it is nevertheless a movie you want to watch. And I say, absolutely. You do have to like, or learn to like, movies that are about quiet ambiance, about passive expressions that say more than intense extroverted acting. The black and white photography, something of a throwback during this early 1960s production, gives it even more of the timeless, almost melancholy depth that keeps it going, owing something to the Dreyer's Joan of Arc, I think.
It's important to know this is not really an interpretation of the gospel, but a reading of it. The filming of course required actors, but it tries to be factually straight forward. That's incredibly hard to pull off without arrogance or religiosity. But Pasolini does it. The down side to this is that it's slow, or even (no sacrilege here), boring. I mean, I read the book.
For me, what makes it terrific is not only how it is filmed (the camera-work and editing) and the faces (all those faces, with the camera still and focused on them), but the sense of reality here. The holiness is removed, but not the sacred seriousness. It makes it seem possible in a very real way. The people, the places, all of it is not historic, not in particular, but the effect, the mood, the force of it all is profound. Even for a non-believer. It's quite something to get swept into.