The Esoteric Nature of Mel Gibson's 'The Passion'

It was always puzzling to me how Mel Gibson's The Passion of the Christ was such a hit among American Evangelicals. It is a deeply Catholic work after all, whose screenplay was based not only on the Gospels but the writings of two eccentric nuns, Mary of Agreda and Anne Catherine Emmerich. Anne Catherine claimed to have experienced graphic visions of Christ's execution, and was said to have received the stigmata as a result of her devotion. In any other case, Evangelicals would run screaming from such figures, with cries of "heresy" on their lips to boot. Not so where Gibson's 2004 film about the death of Jesus was concerned. But far be it from me to burden Evangelicals with an expectation for consistency.

I think the core reason The Passion was embraced by the conservative Christian right is that it presumably served to give their base beliefs mainstream legitimacy. Mel Gibson was a world famous celebrity and movie star at the time, renowned for epic films like Braveheart. And his film about Jesus promised, at least on the surface, a straight up and literalist retelling of the Biblical narrative--no trysts with Mary Magdalene or singing crucifixion victims here! And Mel delivered the goods for those seeking no more than simple validation of Christianity's central tenets: that Jesus Christ was born of a virgin, was the Son of God, was killed to absolve sinners, and was resurrected after three days. This was all Evangelicals needed. They flocked to see Gibson's film in record numbers, assuring its box office success. Gibson has now said that he plans to make a sequel to The Passion, depicting Jesus' three days "in the grave".    

I hate to break it to Evangelicals at this late date, but Gibson's film is, at heart, less a traditionalist recounting of Christ's crucifixion and more a love letter to ancient Catholicism and esoteric/Gnostic concepts and archetypes.

I love this film!

As someone who has studied the occult and occult symbolism, it is fairly simple to see what Gibson is doing and the message he is conveying. He imbued his work with heavy visual and narrative occult symbolism. The film's story is a journey from deep darkness into light--from ignorance and fear into illumination and peace. The figure of Christ is, at first, the archetypal novitiate who must undertake a painful journey to gain a higher plain of consciousness/awareness.

The Passion opens with Christ in the Garden of Gethsemane, pleading with his Father in Heaven to "take this chalice from me". Gibson's staging of this scene is paramount. Jesus is surrounded by shadow and gloom, lost in his anguish. As clouds cover the Passover moon, he is cut off from illumination, from truth and light. It is then that the figure of Satan appears, heralded by a snake, to tempt Christ away from the arduous journey he must undertake.

The character of Satan is depicted by Gibson as an androgynous figure. He/she is without concrete form, and throughout the film, leers at Jesus from the sidelines. "Who is your father?" Satan asks him in the garden. The devil projects here, tempting Christ to doubt himself and his identity--to become formless and void as Satan is.

Gibson's Satan represents the material and the finite, a lower vibrational being that seeks to prevent the ascension and spiritual progression of others.

But Christ chooses to progress, despite the temptation offered by Satan to remain in the material and eschew gnosis.

Christ is arrested by the Jewish authorities. In the process he is pummeled and brutalized by their soldiers. And here debuts one of Gibson's key visual symbols--the opening of the third eye. In the film, when Jesus is struck in the face, his right eye swells shut. Far from a mere nod to medical accuracy on the part of the production, the swelled eye and more specifically, the eye that remains open, is a central aspect to Gibson's portrayal of Christ.         

The application of the all-seeing eye to the figure of Jesus was apparently lost on the Evangelical movie-going public. If they had grasped it, perhaps they would not have been so quick and eager to endorse Mel's film. But it shouldn't be that difficult to put together. After all, just look at Gibson's Icon Productions logo, situated at the front of the film like a trumpet blast for those paying attention.

In current popular culture, the all-seeing eye or the Eye of Horus is affiliated with the Illuminati. It is the eye of Lucifer, employed for centuries over by nefarious elites seeking to sacrifice children and rule the world.

So is Gibson a closet Luciferian?

In a word: NO.

Gnosis goes both ways. One can seek to ascend either into the light or to descend into shadows. The manifestation of the all-seeing eye or the third eye can be utilized for either the former or latter purpose. Understanding the ancient mysteries can lead to enlightenment and harmony or to a desire to manipulate the material and enslave the uninitiated. With The Passion, Gibson is clearly seeking to do the former. He is sharing the knowledge of ascension.

Christ writing "mysteries" in the dirt.

Christ has his third eye opened, signaling the start of his journey into a higher plain, into increased spiritual awareness and consciousness.

While being led away to the Temple in chains, the soldiers prod Jesus across a bridge. Halfway over he is shoved off by one of the sadistic brood. Christ falls and is caught by his chains. He dangles in midair. Seen by critics of the film as the first of many sequences of gratuitous violence, this episode is in fact nothing of the sort. It is Gibson giving us another symbolic message.

"The Hanged Man" of the tarot is a powerful symbol of surrender, letting go, and sacrifice. Christ hanging next to the bridge is a dramatic foretelling of his later suspension on the cross. He is the symbolic sacrifice-the death of ego and of the material.  

And just in case you miss the blatant third eye symbolism elsewhere, Gibson emphasizes it here with a creepy highlight effect.

This is also the point where Jesus comes face to face with his betrayer, Judas, who has been skulking under the bridge. Aside from the all-seeing eye, I love Christ's expression to Judas here. It is incriminating and mournful in the same instance. Judas has betrayed the light. His path is one of descension rather than ascension--the archetypal "deal with the devil".  

Another central component to the film is its very Catholic veneration of Mary, the Mother of Jesus. It is also another element that Evangelicals conveniently ignored. But Mary shares protagonist duties with Christ in the narrative. 

Esoterically, she is the mother of all, Mother Nature, the mother goddess. She is Christ's connection to all that is good in the material world, to unpolluted creation. She mourns the suffering of those on the path to ascension.

More occult symbolism. "So above, so below".

At the time of its release, The Passion made headlines for its scenes of prolonged, bloody violence. The scourging sequence goes on for an interminable length, replete with splatterings of blood and ripping flesh. This is followed by the excruciating fourteen stages of the Via Dolorosa, and then the crucifixion scene itself. 

For Evangelicals and Christians of a traditionalist bent, the graphic sequences in Gibson's film amounted to a prolonged display of Christ's "love for us". Acts of violence that fundamentalists would normally decry in film, were here embraced with enthusiasm. The recent moral panic of the 90s was supposedly all but forgotten when The Passion hit theaters. 

For secularist commentators, the violence in the film was no less than fetishistic. The brilliant Christopher Hitchens wrote the following scathing denouncement in the pages of Vanity Fair. 

    "One has to positively want it to go on and on, all the way, every cut of the lash and every bloody footprint and every rusty nail, until the very bitterest end. At least one has to desire this if one believes in the film’s “agenda”—which is a clumsy, melodramatic attempt at the vindication of biblical literalism."

Following the thesis that Gibson's purpose was more esoterically symbolic than surface or literalist, my contention is that both sides missed the point when considering the violence in the film. Hitchens points out that the gory displays of violence in The Passion are not even that accurate, lacking as they are in nudity, defecation, and other such unpleasant realities that occur when humans are brutalized. Hitchens uses this point to put the lie to the film's supposed claims of accuracy and historicity. 

But I find it obvious that Gibson never intended for the violence to be a literal presentation of what occurs when a real human being is flogged and nailed to a cross beam. The violence is highly symbolic. 

Allow me to indulge in another reference to the tarot.

"The Ten of Swords" represents the low point and martyrdom. Gibson's symbolic Christ is scapegoated on his journey to ascension. He must undergo a trial of fire before reaching a higher vibration and consciousness. The material world strips the traveler of all dignity and strength before a breakthrough is reached. 

Tellingly, The Passion does not include a prolonged resurrection scene. There are no hushed maidens happening upon the empty tomb, or disciples interacting with angels. While this gave some Christian viewers pause, it was, like many other aspects of this brilliant film, ignored or misunderstood. The scene does not follow the Biblical narrative, because the film is not a literalist recitation of the Gospel story. 

The final scene of The Passion is no less than a visual representation of achieving enlightenment and illumination. Gibson's Christ has undergone a transition from the strictly material to the plain of spirit. He has reached true gnosis.    

      

The Way Back

As noon approached on March 20th, the Spring Equinox, I readied myself for a time of meditation and reflection. I began by taking deep breaths and listening to calming music (YouTube is replete with meditation tracks! I recommend binaural beats and 432hz music).

With this process begun, I started to release all the pain, anger, and frustration that was pent up inside of me. As the season changed and winter was left behind, I basked in the thought of Spring, of wholeness, and of new beginnings. 

Such moments are few and far between for me, but I am learning. I am still letting go of destructive and narcissistic thought patterns and habits that have crippled me for too long. The crush of life does a really bang up job of preventing healing and wholeness. But no battle was ever won lying down or standing still. Pressing on and going forward is the only path to spiritual and emotional wellness. 

What also helps in the process is reaching out to others. So many are in pain and brokenness. Taking the first step into the healing journey is often the hardest, especially if you are separating yourself from toxic people and relationships. You will be misunderstood, marginalized, and slandered. It is important to seek out others who have either experienced or are experiencing a similar situation. Understand that you are not alone. Take the brave step. Read widely. Seek counseling and therapy.  

Here are some helpful resources for those seeking to define or achieve healing from, toxic or co-dependent relationships, particularly with extended family. The road to mental and emotional wellness is not an easy one--it is fraught with trials and hardships. But there is an oasis on the other side! Do not let anyone or anything stand in the way of your psychological, spiritual, and emotional health. Take steps to protect and safeguard yourself, and especially those you love most. Never allow a spouse or child to be castigated, demonized, or used against you. Remember that you are most likely kicking against toxic family cycles generations in the making. The patterns and relational dynamics that have wreaked havoc on your emotional and psychological health will not be easy to let go of. Despite the pain and grief they cause, they are in fact addicting. Shattering destructive cycles takes time and tremendous effort. But it will be worth it!

Changing Destructive Behaviors

Going No Contact with Relatives

Scapegoat Families

The Healing Spectrum

On Recovering from Codependency

On Recovering from Emotional Abuse

Reactive Abuse and Gaslighting

'The Alamo' (Film Review)

The Alamo, a 2004 film starring Billy Bob Thornton, Dennis Quaid, Jason Patric, and Patrick Wilson, and directed by John Lee Hancock, billed itself as the first historically accurate retelling of the famous 1836 siege and battle of the Alamo. As a Texas Revolution history buff, I take contention with this claim. The film offers a capable depiction of its subject matter, and while it gets many details correct, it also indulges in questionable revisionist narratives.

Released by Disney's Touchstone Pictures, The Alamo had a troubled production history. Original director Ron Howard left the film after Disney refused to front the budget he wanted, and also required Howard to keep the rating PG-13. With Howard's exit also came the departures of actors Russell Crowe and Ethan Hawke from the project. Despite these setbacks, the film went into production under Director John Lee Hancock.

Produced in the midst of the Iraq War, the film's screenplay is openly critical of Anglo ambitions in 1830s Texas. To what degree the screenwriters were trying to make a parallel with contemporaneous events is unknown. But the film is anxious to provide a revisionist take on the Texas Revolution. The Anglo settlers in Texas are generally depicted as greedy land grabbers, frothing to fulfill the credo of Manifest Destiny. Early on in the film, Sam Houston (Dennis Quaid) attempts to lure then Congressman David Crockett (Billy Bob Thornton) to Texas with the promise of free land. The encounter never occurred in real life, but the filmmakers use it to cast the ambitions of American pioneers in a certain light. At one point in the film, a Tejano revolutionary remarks, "these lowlifes want the entire world!". While I personally feel the Iraq War was a travesty and a waste of life and resources, it is in no way comparable to the Texas Revolution.

The historical reality was a bit more nuanced. But like many revisionist narratives, The Alamo is eager to reduce its central conflict to greed and prejudice vs. multicultural harmony and goodwill. Historically, the Anglo settlers that came to Texas were motivated by a wide variety of factors, unique to each group and family. Mexico was eager to settle its vast territory of Coahuila y Tejas, and so established an open immigration policy. The promise of land, a new beginning, and freedom to live as one pleased was attractive to many. Settlement in Texas was contingent upon a conversion to Catholicism as well as an oath of loyalty sworn under the Mexican Constitution of 1824. General and president Antonio Lopez de Santa Anna would later shred the document, sparking the revolution.

The Alamo more or less depicts the Texian freedom fighters as a band of deplorable scoundrels. Aside from the characters of David Crockett, William Travis, and James Bowie, we barely get to know any of them before they are butchered in the pre-dawn attack of March 6.

Travis, Crockett, and Bowie

The aforementioned "big three" or "the trinity of the Alamo" are depicted as seriously flawed men doing their best despite the circumstances. Thornton's Crockett is a world weary celebrity, trapped by his "King of the Wild Frontier" image, which he feels is a sham. Travis (Patrick Wilson) is a foppish young Calvary officer, eager to find his grit and prove himself. Bowie (Jason Patric) is a broken down wreck, mourning the loss of his young wife and undergoing an existential crisis.

While Thornton, Wilson, and Patric perform their roles well, their characters as written do not really reflect historical truth. But these depictions are central to the relativistic themes the screenwriters and director were trying to convey, namely that there are no heroes or villains in a story like this--only flawed humans who kill each other out of fear and greed. While perhaps a noble attempt at humanizing these famous historical figures, it is more an over-correction to past Anglo-centric idealizations of these men. Both are extremes and not indicative of historical reality.

Unfortunately, Hancock's historical advisers were not the best. The film did not utilize the latest in Alamo scholarship, but rather promulgated revisionist perspectives of the seventies and eighties. Chief among these is the notion that David Crockett did not die in the final chaotic battle, but surrendered and was executed under the direct order of Santa Anna. The primary historical source for this narrative comes from the post-war diary of a Mexican officer, imprisoned and quite bitter towards the now disgraced Mexican president. Knowing of Crockett's celebrity, the account was no doubt a politically motivated attempt on the part of its author to smear the reputation of Santa Anna. In all probability, Crockett was part of the large group of Alamo defenders who broke free from the compound that morning and were cut down by the Mexican Calvary. This pivotal event is not depicted in the film.

The final battle of the siege on March 6, 1836.

The filmmakers went to lengths to recreate the Alamo compound and the town of San Antonio as it was in 1836. They didn't quite succeed. The town and mission are too small and claustrophobic, and do not accurately reflect the lush environment of the San Antonio River basin. Also, designer Michael Corenblith made some bizarre decisions, such as altering the position of the Alamo church, which throws off the overall symmetry of the mission as it looked in 1836. John Wayne's efforts for his 1960 epic are much more evocative on screen. Corenblith utilized perishable materials to construct his set, while Wayne's designer used actual stone, and it shows.

Historicity aside, the film succeeds in its atmosphere and tone. Hancock does a commendable job at conveying the desperate nature of the thirteen day siege, particularly the harrowing experience of the Mexican army's continual cannon bombardment. The final nighttime battle is both quick and intense, as it was in reality. Though it is in this area that the film could have benefited from Ron Howard's desired R rating. The film's meditations on death and suffering are also poignant, with the scenes of a deathly ill James Bowie standing out.

Carter Burwell's score is both haunting and understated. He employs woodwinds and acoustic sounds to great effect. Of note are David Crockett's performances on violin.

The Alamo is well-worth the time. But the definitive film on this historical subject has yet to be made.        

'Winchester' Misfires (Film Review)

If I kept higher expectations for new releases these days, then I surely would have been disappointed by Winchester, the recent horror flick starring Dame Helen Mirren and Jason Clarke. As it is though, I was only marginally let down.

I've always had a fascination with the historical figure of Sarah Winchester and her mysterious mansion of walled-off rooms and stairways to nowhere. I recall viewing a documentary on the subject as an adolescent that sparked my imagination and probably kept me awake for a few nights.

Sarah Winchester was a wealthy widow who inherited the Winchester Arms Company from her late husband, William Winchester. Sarah came to eschew the famous rifle bearing her last name, known as it was for its deadly accuracy and claiming innumerable lives on the western frontier. After the death of her husband and baby daughter, Sarah came to feel that her family was cursed. She retreated to her mansion home near San Francisco, California and began what would become a lifelong building project and obsession.

The legend goes that Sarah believed herself to be haunted by all the spirits whose mortal lives had been ended by a Winchester rifle. Through nightly seances, these vengeful ghosts demanded Sarah make accommodation for them. Using automatic writing, the spirits would channel architectural designs through Sarah and onto paper. Sarah would then hand off these designs to her permanent labor force, who would then execute them in reality. That the "designs" were often bizarre and nonsensical made no difference to Sarah, and the crew did as they were told. All of the above has been denied by scholars at one time or the other. But it sure makes for a tantalizing story.

  The exterior of the mansion as it appears in the film. The effects work is

 shockingly bad here. This looks like a background from the old 1998 PC game, Myst. 

Set in 1906, the film Winchester is told from the perspective of fictional character Dr. Eric Price (Clarke), who is hired by the board of the Winchester Arms Company to evaluate Mrs. Winchester's mental health. Price is brought to stay at the mysterious mansion and ghostly chaos ensues.

We discover early on that Clarke is a skeptic and man of science, with an addiction to laudanum on the side. He attributes his initial spirit sightings in the mansion to the influence of said drug, that is until Sarah (Mirren) has her hollow-eyed butler confiscate the goods from Price's room. 

The first twenty minutes or so of the film are intriguing, and I hoped were providing the foundation for a meaningful plot and measured horror. However, the content of the remaining run-time had me convinced that the writing team had a substance addiction themselves. I have no idea how the screenplay for this film made it past the green-light stage.

What heralded the doom of this picture was, as you might guess, the first of many jump scares. The build to it was superb, utilizing a set up with Price and a shaving mirror. Each time Price turns to retrieve something from his bag, he moves the mirror in its frame to reveal an empty armchair in the corner of the room. This repeats two or three times, building the tension. If the writers had possessed any degree of subtlety or finesse, they would have left it at that--just a build up with no pay off. It would have been a clever way to hook the audience and keep them on the edge waiting for the first real spirit appearance. As it is though, we are assaulted with a jump scare in the form of a rotted ghost face appearing behind the mirror.

As I suspected, the moment would epitomize the entirety of the film: a wasted opportunity. What follows is a tiresome and oddly comical series of "thrills" and "scares", culminating in the giggle-inducing image of a vengeful Confederate ghost throttling a battered Mrs. Winchester against a shattered gun case. This film is not the first time in recent memory that I've wondered if the filmmakers are trolling the audience. I'm formulating a conspiracy theory that this is actually an avant-garde style of movie making--a cynically cheeky ode to our times if you will.

The always superb Helen Mirren as Sarah Winchester.

Mirren and Price do a capable job in their respective roles, though Mirren seems to grow rather glassy eyed as the picture progresses. The far too few scenes of the two together in Price's evaluatory  sessions show potential, and one wishes these moments had been fleshed out and shaded. The themes of coping with grief, the fear of death, and skepticism vs. superstition are powerful and really could have been explored at length here. Is Sarah merely a grief-stricken widow, encased in a world of delusions, or does she truly communicate with the dead? And by extension, is Price, himself a widower, retreating from grief and guilt in the skepticism he promulgates? These questions should have been the heart and soul of the film. Perhaps such was the original intent of the writers. But somehow, somewhere, something went terribly askew, not unlike the Winchester mansion itself.