It takes a special kind of faith to make a film as impassioned and important as ‘Silence’.
Martin Scorsese feels destined to make ‘Silence’ not only because the director has dabbled in the questions of religion, both implicitly and explicitly, in his other films, but also because this is a storyteller who, like a particularly idealistic yet inquisitive missionary on the path of faith, believes.
And belief is what his latest film inspires in us all, though not before it sets out, with customary incisive skill, to probe the very foundations of the extent of our faith in God and religion. ‘Silence’ is no ordinary tale of missionaries and their trials and tribulations in a foreign land that would not succumb so easily to convention; it is a brilliant, breathtaking barnstormer, a film that has the buzz of debate in its raging mind and yet beautiful grace in its execution as it raises important and rattling questions that we would normally try and avoid.
We begin in the misty, murky and medieval Japan of the 17th century, a land blessed with the boon of Mother Nature and the curse of a trail of bloodshed and violence. This is a land that simply won’t accept an alternate system of faith for reasons that the poor and tortured missionaries as well as their equally hapless followers cannot fully fathom.
Among the victims is noble Father Ferreira, a man whose eyes are sad and whose heart is shattered over the torture that he and his fellow priests have to go through. He cannot quite understand why a nation so blessed with the miraculous beauty of God cannot really follow the teachings of his Son.
Scorsese' film, however, is not about Ferreira or his predicament. Rather, it revolves around the two Jesuit priests who are charged, by circumstance rather than command, to find him out. Idealistic Rodrigues and tough-willed Garupe argue that a letter describing Ferreira’s torture and the possibility of him going rogue could be slander and set out to find the truth themselves.
And it is at this point that ‘Silence’ starts feeling as poignant and powerfully intelligent a take on Joseph Conrad’s ‘Heart Of Darkness’ as Francis Ford Coppola’s ‘Apocalypse Now’. Like that brilliant novel, Scorsese and Jay Cocks’ immaculate script posits its quest for a missing man as an odyssey into uncharted territory that conceals a greater, more disturbing truth. Like that equally seminal film, this also sets out to explore the real toll of a war on humanity, ideology and faith. The master director achieves both these demanding feats with assured grace and in unexpectedly bold and masterful ways.
We follow Rodrigues and Garupe as they land on the shores of this seemingly hostile nation, where they discover that the reality is far unsettling that what one could imagine. A ragged band of fugitive converts welcomes these two pastors in their midst in a state of elation even as things are dire elsewhere. Their desperate is justified- these are hapless, hunted and outlawed folks who just need the manna of their promised faith as a sign of reassurance even in trouble. Scorsese captures these rituals brilliantly, with a mesmeric, even elegiac pace even as the plot keeps throwing up little nuggets that startle and baffle. When questioned, one of the converts admits that baptism is the only ritual that they know for sure.
Strutting away with deft skill, ‘Silence’ then gazes at the faith and belief of its primary protagonist: Rodrigues himself. Andrew Garfield is a revelation as this well-meaning yet naïve and tormented young pastor who holds an utterly dedicated devotion to his deity but is frequently assailed by the questions of what is right and wrong. It is heart-wrenching to see him imagine the visage of Jesus Christ in his solitude and it is equally devastating to hear him question his idol and God himself on witnessing the harsh fate that awaits the people whose only crime was to heed to his gospel.
When faced with a disciple who is shaken with the possibility of insulting a symbol of the Christ, he eggs him to do the same, impulsively and impatiently, his own conviction weakened by now. It is a moment of heart-breaking pathos.
It is when Scorsese and Cocks dive in deep and look through his predicament that the film really comes alive and sets out to confront the very idea of faith that becomes the crux of argument. We see hapless converts forced by the ruling chieftains of the land to surrender by denouncing the sacred symbols of the faith and Scorsese recounts these moments of brutality with an unflinching gaze but it is when he mulls over the thoughts, decisions and feelings that accompany these acts of violence and martyrdom that the film really begins to soar.
Essentially, the film asks us out open: does holding on to a chosen faith or ideology also require a sacrifice of both body and mind? If you renounce a symbol of your faith, have you renounced the whole system of thought itself? These are tough and provocative questions and the film does not answer all of them but it makes way for a strident message that is both stirring and important for our senseless times.
But in ‘Silence’, nothing is even remotely preachy. While paced at an epic length of 160 minutes, there is not a single scene, moment or word that is wasted on redundant plot turns or on any additional sub-text that could make it all relentlessly heavy. Rather, it is a film of lean and mean perspective, a film which sticks with its main thrust of narrative with dedication and also sculpts a starkly balanced parallel between the fledgling status of Christianity and the tough and defiant order of Buddhism in a medieval scenario that is indeed hostile to one faith but tender to another.
Scorsese has always been an extraordinary storyteller and ‘Silence’ sees him depicting the clash of religion and culture as something akin to a brooding Western film, in which the physical beauty of the world around the characters is contrasted with the disillusionment that it holds.
Rodrigo Prieto’s beautiful camerawork transports us to a land and era that feel vivid and evocative yet utterly credible and authentic. From the coastal villages of Portuguese-occupied Macau to the mesmeric boat trails that are enveloped with the fog of mystery, his vistas of Japan are immersive in their virgin beauty but, most crucially, the visuals compliment the crushing intensity of the story itself. Scorsese and Pieto use the murky mists of the islands to devastating effect, portraying an atmosphere of gloom around the ill-fated characters of the story and, in one shattering scene they let the crashing waves of the sea take the metaphorical form of salvation to the ones who suffer the most for their faith.
Equally effective is the cast of characters that surround Rodrigues and a prudent Garupe (played with serious-minded dignity by Adam Driver) with each of them important to the film’s insightful twists and turns ahead. There is, for instance, Ichizo (Yoshi Oida), the heroic aging leader of the pitiful band of survivors who agrees willingly for the greater sacrifice that his devotion needs, even as others around him squabble for their lives. There is the shifty and weak-willed boatman Kichijiro (a spirited Yosuke Kubokuza) who commits public sacrilege, time and again, in a desperate bid for survival. And finally, there is the cunning inquisitor Masashige ( a sly-witted Issey Ogata) himself, a classic Scorsese villain for ages and a cunning figure of authority who explains his misgivings on a foreign power corrupting his land in the most perfectly believable way ever.
Rodrigues’ inexorable determination to hold on to his faith leads him on a dark and pre-destined way to a climax where he is finally compelled, and even permitted, to give up his religion and instead embrace the new order of the land. Even as the film shows us little hope for this well-intentioned soldier of God, ‘Silence’ is also a film of miraculous wonder and that heart-stopping open-ended climax leaves us with one universally resonant message: that even in a swamp where nothing can grow, that silent yet passionate voice is always with us to give us hope. We may not hear it always but we need to hold it fondly in our hearts. That will do.
My Rating- 5 Stars Out Of 5
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