Scary Movie Churches in October

A couple of Halloweens ago, when I was working in youth ministry at a church, I organized a zombie night. Everyone dressed like the walking dead, and we played games with that theme. It all led up to a lesson from Ephesians 2 -- we were dead in our sins but now are alive in Christ. It was a fun night, and some kids posted pictures on FaceBook.

A very well intentioned (I'm sure) woman sent an email to the church warning us of the dangerous supernatural evil we were exposing the kids to by dealing with dark forces and evil concepts. I sent her a message that we were indeed looking at evil things: sin, wrath, and the cravings of the flesh that Scripture warns us about. Zombies just provided an apt illustration of those concepts. I didn't hear from her again.

Historically, there are three topics in films that have engendered outrage from the church and religious groups: sexuality, blasphemy, and horror. The funny thing about the third topic is that horror films often have something closer to a Christian world view than much of Hollywood's other fantasies.

In horror films, evil is real. The supernatural is real. The devil might be real, and if the devil is real, one expects to find that God is real. If there are demons, there are angels; and if evil, then good. In many of Hollywood's comedies, dramas, and even science fiction, God is irrelevant. In many horror films, God is the only hope. The only thing between our hero and a vampire might well be the Cross. In real life, the Cross is the only thing between me and evil as well.

So October is about horror films. Some have monsters of a supernatural variety, some have monsters of the human variety. All of the films, of course, have churches. And they all are, in the words of Count Floyd, "scary stuff, kids." Because "the fear of the Lord is the beginning of wisdom."*

-- Dean

*Psalm 111:10a NIV

Grace Unplugged (2013)

Every father can agree that one of the greatest movies of this century is Liam Neeson's "Taken" because it teaches the important lesson that Dad was right all along. I'm not saying "Grace Unbroken" is in that class of cinema as it doesn't have shootings, electrocutions, or car chases but it still has that important theme. The reason I'm writing about it here is the film has a church, while, sadly, "Taken" does not.

"Grace Unplugged" tells the story of a one-hit-wonder rock star, Johnny Trey, (think Barry McGuire) who hit the skids and is now the worship leader in a small church. His daughter, Grace, plays with him on the church's worship team, but they fight and she leaves home for Hollywood to become a rock star. It's sort of like the Miley Cyrus story with a happier ending.

Early in the film we see father and daughter together in a church worship service performing the song, "Never Let Go". Though there are other singers and musicians, the two are standing up front -- both thinking they're the primary worship leader. The minor clash in styles is obviously not a small thing for them. After the service we see a friend of Grace's full of compliments which Grace swats away with disgust.

At home, we see father and daughter argue about the worship service. Johnny wanted Grace to play the piano, as she had in rehearsal, but she played the guitar.

He also wasn't pleased with her singing style, which leads to the memorable quote, "The rest of us are doing Chris Tomlin and you act like it's a Renae Taylor concert!" You probably don't know who Renae Taylor is, because she's a fictional rock star character in the film. She things like this: "In this business, your body is your main source of capital and sometimes you have to spend it." You might not know who Chris Tomlin is, but he is a real Christian musician.

And you know one thing for certain when you hear his name mentioned: he will make a cameo appearance in the film. Yes, it happens.

What I loved about this was it does capture something that I have seen happen far too often -- squabbling on the worship team. Yeah, usually it's brothers and sisters in Christ squabbling rather than a father and daughter, but it still is something that happens. A lot. Which always gets explained as "You know how those creative types are."

Something that baffled me in the film was the size of the church. All the pews seem full in the worship service we see, but even the most generous ushers' count would place it at about 120 people. Yet the church somehow seems to be able to afford a full time teaching pastor AND a full time worship pastor, Johnny Trey. The only possible explanation is he is living off the royalties of his hit, "Misunderstood," and at the church he's working for all the coffee he can drink.

We never see the pastor, Pastor Tim, preach, but we do see him socialize with the Trey family and providing counsel to Johnny. When the Trey family fights, Tim and his wife also bicker, and he chuckles sympathetically. When Grace runs away, Pastor Tim does offer sound advice. He says that Grace might not listen to Johnny's advice anymore, but he can trust her in God's hand.

In the end, Grace sees the moral depravity of Hollywood and returns home. Obviously, the church is what brings Grace back, with Pastor Tim mediating her return.  So we're giving the church (and Pastor Tim) 3 steeples.

(And though we usually don't review the film itself, I give the film two big thumbs up for the moment Grace says, "You were right, Dad."  I was touched.)

Brother Sun, Sister Moon (1972)

Just so you know, I prefer the church with the more naked Jesus. There are three churches in director Franco Zeffirelli's film about St. Francis, if you include the Vatican. And as I said, the less clothing encumbered church is definitely the best.

"Brother Sun, Sister Moon" was released in 1972, which puts it in the heart of the sixties (which, of course, are best calculated as beginning in 1963 at JFK's assassination to Nixon's resignation in 1974), the hippie era. The story of Francis of Assisi returning from war and renouncing his father's materialism for a life of nature, peace and spirituality certainly was tailor made for the Flower and Jesus People. From what I can tell, Zeffirelli doesn't stray too far from the story of the saint who was born in 1181 (or 1182) and died at the age of 44 in 1226. Francis' life also fits well in this month's theme of Rebel Youths (even if his rebellion was of a more positive brand than most).

As always though, we are here to evaluate the churches found in the film, not the film itself.

The first church we encounter in the film is the church of Assisi, attended by Francis' father, Pietro. Pietro is quite distressed that Francis doesn't initially return to church when he returns from the war. Pietro has a chummy relationship with the priests in the church, apparently supplying the clergy with silk for their fine robes from his prosperous textile works.

The crucifix above the altar in the church depicts Jesus wearing a crown of jewels and fine robes. This is a little off from the Biblical testimony that has Jesus on the cross wearing a crown of thorns and no clothes at all, but I'm sure if you're wearing a really sweet silk robe as a member of the clergy, having your wall Jesus with an equally sweet robe makes for more comfortable worship.

Also in this church, the clergy and the rich have the good seats in the front of the sanctuary and the poor stand in the back. All of this is in direct contradiction of James 2 which says the rich should not be shown favoritism. Francis, upon returning to the church, recognizes its hypocrisy. He renounces his father's wealth, ridding himself of everything from his earthly father including the clothes he was wearing (this streaking was the main thing I remembered from seeing the film as a teen). The naked Francis says he is born again. A priest tries to cover him with a fine robe, but Francis shares the robe with a poor man.

Francis begins a new order of brothers who take vows of poverty and chastity and seek to serve the poor. They rebuild a church in ruins, St. Mary of the Angels. This church ministers to the poor, who are given honor and affection. The crucifix in this church displays a Jesus whose garb is more Biblically accurate.

When Francis and his brothers encounter persecution, they decide to go to Rome to seek the blessing of Pope Innocent III for their order. On entering the Vatican, Francis encounters wealth more opulent than even his rich father possessed, but Francis doesn't judge, at this time being submissive to the authority of the church.

When Francis first approaches the Pope, he reads from a formal, legal request for recognition of his order that has been prepared for him. He abandons the reading and then goes to reciting the Sermon on the Mount. The Sermon on the Mount is greeted by cries of "Blasphemy!" by some in the room.

But the Pope is moved by the words of Christ spoken through Francis, giving him blessing and even kissing his feet. (One should have expected the Pope to do the right thing, as he is played by Obi-Wan Kenobi.

Ratings for the three Movie Churches:

Francis' father's church - one steeple

The Holy Father's church - two steeples

Francis's church - four steeples

"Saved!" (2004) and "Boys Town" (1938)

Though both "Boys Town" and "Saved!" have only brief scenes in churches, they're both about institutions run by clergymen (schools in both, though "Boys Town" is a school and more). Both provide interesting glimpses of how the church is viewed in their times.

It's impossible to imagine "Saved!" (the story of a high school girl impregnated when she tries to "cure" her gay boyfriend) being made in 1938. But it's almost as difficult to imagine "Boys Town" (the earnest story of a Catholic priest who founds a ministry to care for abandoned  and troubled boys) being made in the 21st century.

American Eagles Christian High School in "Saved!" is run by Pastor Skip. Pastor Skip makes a great effort to be hip and happening for the kids of his school. We see him at the opening assembly of the school year being introduced by Mandy Moore's Christian Jewels worship band. He encourages the kids to "Get our Christ on... Kick it Jesus style" and to follow "Jesus the ultimate rebel and God, the universe's CEO."  The school's board worries that the Christian bands he brings to the school might sound too much like secular rock bands, but he says that's the point, looking to lure kids in with the music and then convert them.

But all is not well in the minister's private life. Pastor Skip is married, but his wife has been off in the mission field for an extended time (their son spent the summer with her, but returns for his senior year at Skip's school). Pastor Skip has regular "counseling" sessions with a student's widowed mother -- which morph into an affair. So perhaps he isn't the best person to be teaching the students sex education.

The film is almost a remake of "Mean Girls," but in this film the mean girls call themselves Christians. Christians in the film all are trying to imitate the world but baptize it at the same time. The Christians are hypocrites, all trying to gather other people's eye lumber with optic log cabins of their own aplenty (this awful sentence is a reworking of Matthew 7: 1 - 5).

This satire of Christians as sexually obsessed, culturally clueless and at times downright mean might not be fair or accurate, but it's good for Christians to see how others see them.

Father Flanagan in "Boys Town" runs a quite different kind of institution. He establishes a school for boys who are orphaned or are in trouble with the law. The film opens with the priest visiting a man on death row who says everything might been different if someone had cared for him when he was a young boy.

Boys Town is, of course, a real institution. The real Father Flanagan, portrayed in the film by Spencer Tracy, borrowed $90.00 to rent a house for a few boys. This eventually became a number of institutions that housed and schooled thousands of boys (and now girls too). Father Flanagan in the film fights for his school, insisting that "there is no such thing as a bad boy." (For believers in original sin or for parents who have observed their own children, this is a very questionable statement but that doesn't take away from the fact that Boys Town has done very valuable work through the years.)

Not atypical for films of the era, there are moments we'd consider racist or anti-Semitic, but there is a surprising scene in the film where we see Father Flanagan explaining that the boys do not need to become Catholic but are free to honor the "supreme being" however they wish. The school encourages hard work, cleanliness and unabashed patriotism for these United States.

It's hard to imagine that a film about Father Flanagan's good work would make it to the big screen these days (perhaps it could be a made-for-TV feature on Hallmark or the Lifetime Channel). At the time it was made, studios assumed their audiences appreciated the Church and its work.

Perceptions of the church have changed quite a bit in the last three quarters of a century; probably for the worse. At the end of "Saved!" the teen Mary (with child, but not a virgin) says we're all still trying to figure out what Jesus would do. We do know that Jesus wanted the little children brought to Him so he could bless them. Let's keep doing that.

"Boys Town" 3 steeples

"Saved!" 1 steeple

Rebel Youths

Thomas Jefferson said, "A little rebellion now and then is a good thing," and fortunately, the world has youth to take up the cause. Young people look at the world as it is and wonder why it isn't better.

Some rebellion begins in innocence. A youth does what comes naturally and finds out society frowns on such things. The civil rights movement was rebellion founded on the crazy idea that equality and liberty should be lived out in a country that extoled those values.

Of course, some rebellion is stupid, reckless and dangerous; and though I love "Animal House" as well as the next guy, we won't be looking at it this month in Movie Churches. Because, you know, it has no church.

There's a famous line from "The Wild One," when someone asked Marlon Brando's motorcycle gang member, "What are you rebelling against?" And Brando answered, "Whadda ya got?" It' one of the most concise summaries of pointless rebellion to be found in film; but sadly, no church is to be found in that movie either.

Among the more common targets for youthful rebellion are parents, school, society, the church, and God. Of course, the latter two are not the same thing. We'll be looking at films this month where youth rebel against the church due to their sinful nature, nihilism or hedonism. And we'll be looking at films where youth rebel against the church because of their love for God.

So this month we'll be inviting all kinds of Young Rebels; the Wild Ones and the Godly Ones, to join us on our metaphorical movie lawn.

Blues Brothers (1980)

I was, like most teens in the late 1970s, a big Saturday Night Live fan, so I rushed out to see a film featuring cast members John Belushi and Dan Ackroyd, but when I first saw "The Blues Brothers" I must admit I thought, "What a stupid film!  It was nothing but blues music and car crashes." But I saw it again with friends and thought, "Hmmm, blues music and car crashes." And then I saw it a third time. "What an awesome film! Nothing but blues music and car crashes!"

But the film does have something besides blues music and car crashes. It has churches, which is why I'm writing about it here. As always, we're here to review the churches in the movie rather than the movie itself.

We first see a ministry of the Catholic Church, rather than a church proper: an orphanage.

The Saint Helen of the Blessed Shroud Orphanage was where Jake and Elwood Blues, the Blues Brothers, were raised. When Jake is released from Joliet Prison, Elwood picks him up and takes him there. Jake objects, but Elwood tells him, "You promised to visit the Penguin you got out. You can't lie to a nun." (The Penguin is their nickname for the nun who runs the orphanage, the Sister Mary Stigmata.)

The stairs to the Sister's office are dominated by a rather terrifying crucifix. Sister Mary Stigmata welcomes the Brothers home and soon informs them that the orphanage came up $5000 short in their tax assessment. The Archbishop wants to sell the orphanage to the Board of Education and send the Sister to the mission field.

Jake offers to get the money for her, but the Sister rightly assumes he plans to steal it and hits him with a ruler. Which causes Jake to swear. So she hits him again. Which causes Elwood to swear, so she hits him. Much swearing and hitting ensues. The brothers flee and the Sister yells after them, "Such a disappointing pair, I prayed so hard for you. The two young men I raised to obey the Ten Commandments come back as two thieves with filthy mouths and bad attitudes. Get out and don't come back, until you've redeemed yourselves."

So what do I think of the Church as represented by the Good Sister? She does live up (down?) to the common cliché of nuns as ruthless disciplinarians. She doesn't seem to be living life with a WWJD bracelet. On the other hand, she is one of only two people who cared for the young Blues Brothers, which should count for something.

The other person who cared for them was the orphanage maintenance man, Curtis (played by Cab Calloway).  When the Brothers meet with him, he reprimands them for swearing at the Penguin. He then tells Jake he should, "Get wise. You get to church."

Jake responds, "I don't want to listen to no jive-a** preacher talk to me about heaven and hell."

But soon Jake and Elwood are on their way to the Triple Rock Baptist Church pastored by the Reverend Cleophus (the Godfather of Soul, James Brown.) Elwood tells Jake, "We've got to make that move toward redemption. We've got to go to church."

Jake and Elwood appear to be the only two white people there when they enter the Triple Rock. A neon cross decorates the wall with the motto, "There is Power in the Cross." There is also stained glass and a river painted in the front of the church (the River Jordan, perhaps). The Reverend is indeed preaching about eternal destiny, mourning lost souls and warning that "the day of the Lord cometh as a thief in the night."

Then the music kicks in; loud, raucous Gospel music, exhorting the congregation to "Preach the Word! All the way! Feel it! Know it! Raise your voices!" All are singing exuberantly and many are dancing with abandon.

Elwood looks at Jake who looks shaken, asking, "Jake, are you all right?"

Jake is more than all right. He sees a light from heaven and suddenly seems full of joy. He cartwheels down the aisle and the Reverend asks if he's seen the light. Jake has.

Jake tells Elwood that God has shown them how they can earn the money for the orphanage legally. They can put together the old band. Elwood joins him in praise, proclaiming, "God bless the United States of America!" Both dance.

The Brothers leave the church changed. As Elwood says many times, "We're on a mission from God." Jake puts it another way, "Well, me and the Lord, we have an understanding."

So my evaluation of these churches? The ministry of the Catholic Church doesn't come across as fun exactly, but they do step in to help some kids that no one else cared for. As for the Triple Rock Baptist Church? It's pretty awesome.

 

Triple Rock gets 4 Steeples.

Last Rites (1988)

Father Freddie (Paul Dooley) stutters. So when he enters the priests' bathroom and sees a woman (Daphne Zuniga of Spaceballs and The Sure Thing) in the shower, it takes him some time to say, "Oh..... m

mmmmmmy..... God!" You would think that his speech impediment might work to his advantage. You might think that as a priest (or even as a Christian), he might use that extra time he takes to get out a sentence to think, "I shouldn't use God's name in vain, like the commandment says." But the priests of this film tend not to think things through, and Freddie is a model of contemplation compared to the film's hero, Father Michael Pace (played by Tom Berenger).

If you recognize Berenger's name, you probably were around for the eighties. He was pretty awesome in the decade, whether he was playing a baseball star (Major League), a cop (Someone to Watch over Me), a TV actor (The Big Chill), a musician (Eddie and the Cruisers) or the world's most evil soldier (Platoon). I suppose it was inevitable he'd also play a member of the clergy.

But Father Michael isn't your typical priest, of course.

He smokes!

He drinks!

He swears!

When in casual dress, he gets hit on by the ladies!

But what really sets Father Michael apart is his family relations: his brother and sister are a part of The Family, the Mob. Now one's family shouldn't necessarily keep one from being in ministry. However, complications from Michael's background do, not surprisingly, ensue.

The film opens with a couple having sex in hotel room. An elegantly dressed woman enters the room, shoots the man, and attempts to shoot the woman. But the woman escapes. The film's R rating is quickly earned. The police arriving on the scene call for a priest to give the dying man last rites. Father Michael arrives and provides the ritual which provides the title of the film. (I found it interesting that the police assumed the dying man was Catholic. In the recent Christian film, Do You Believe, a paramedic finds himself in legal peril for giving spiritual counsel to a dying man. Do police routinely call for a priest anymore?)

But performing last rites is the priestly duty we see Father Michael perform most in the film. There are people who are offended by the idea that absolution of a lifetime sin can be provided in a few moments before death, but Christians correctly point to the thief on the cross, who was promised Paradise as he was dying. I do wonder about the efficacy of the ritual when someone is unconscious or even already dead, but I'll let God worry about that.

Angela, the woman pursued by killers, just happens to wind up in Father Michael's confessional booth. She tells of her plight, and he agrees to protect her from the Mob. This is why she is in the church shower, to be seen by Father Freddie (you were wondering, weren't you?). Almost more worrisome than her complete lack of dress at that time is Father Michael's dress when Angela is  in the rectory. He sports slacks with suspenders and no shirt. Did I mention he gets hit on by the ladies?

Angela asks Father Michael to spend the day with her, but he says, "A priest has to work like everybody else." A montage provides a look at his average day of work: a wedding, a christening, playing basketball with the youth, and giving the last rites to a victim of a traffic accident.

He returns to the rectory to find the woman naked in his bed. Perhaps it is not the height of wisdom for the father to sit next to the bed and wait. We see her wake up, get out of bed, take the clerical collar off the priest and draw him into the bed. Whew! It was all a dream of the priest sitting in the chair next to the naked woman in his bed. Where ever do these ideas in these dreams come from?

(Spoiler: later in the film, the priest actually does sleep with Angela. Billy Graham said it was a practice of his to not ever be alone with a woman who was not his wife or a member of his family. This was to avoid temptation and false accusations. A cool, with it priest like Father Michael could never put such petty restrictions on his behavior.)

(More spoiler territory: it turns out Angela is not exactly who she claims to be. Someone in the film observes that Father Michael seems to be more Mafioso than priest. When he learns certain things about Angela, this indeed proves to be the case. The most telling performance of Last Rites by Father Michael is when the rites are not performed.)

While Father Freddie seems like a perfectly nice guy, and St. Patrick's in New York City, where the priests serve, is a gorgeous place, in the end the ministry of Father Michael Pace earns this Movie Church our lowest rating, one steeple. 

Footloose (1984)

I should admit this up front; I've had a real grudge against this film.

The first time I went to see it was back in seminary at Trinity Evangelical Divinity School.

A college girl I had a bit of a crush on loved this film. She thought it had profound things to say about Trinity College's dancing ban. I asked her to go with me to see it, and she agreed to meet me at the theater. But she didn't come. I was stood up.

It was years before I tried to watch the film again, this time on DVD. I only made it a few minutes. The opening credits were pretty fun; a montage of dancing feet accompanied by the theme song by the great Kenny Loggins (with music in this, "Caddyshack," "Fast Times at Ridgemont High," "Rocky IV," "Top Gun" -- Loggins IS the Eighties.)

But then I got to the film proper with John Lithgow as the Reverend Shaw Moore preaching, and I didn't last much longer. The Rev. ranted about "Our Lord testing us" and why God allows the plague of big cities.

Then he turns to the evils of that "obscene rock and roll music and its gospel of easy sexuality." He again asks why God is testing us with this horrible thing when He could easily wipe all this evil from the earth. The Reverend argues that this testing is allowed by God to make us stronger for Him. At no time does he use Scripture to back up his assertions. The Reverend also does not seem concerned about the people in big cities or the makers or fans of rock music. He doesn't seem to consider that God may love these people and that is why He continues to show them grace (II Peter 3:9).

That's when I turned off the film the last time I tried to watch it.

But for the sake of this blog, I set out to watch the whole film. And, of course, I did so not to write about the film but rather about the church in this film.

The sermon I had already seen would probably lead me to choose not to attend this church. It reminded me too much of the days of my youth, attending Bill Gaither's Basic Youth Conflicts Seminar where he spoke of the evils of rock music. It didn't seem true to God's word to me then, and it doesn't now. Certainly, there are rock songs that have lyrics contrary to God's Word. But the argument against the musical genre itself is pathetically weak.

The next sermon Rev. Moore gives is about the glories of small town life. The director of the film,  Hebert Ross, presents this sermon as a montage, as taking place from the pulpit and in conversations with parishioners. He says he doesn't miss the hustle and bustle of the big city, but prefers small towns where everyone is part of a big family. He says he feels safe with his people in the small town. He, of course, doesn't use any Scripture to support his points, because the God of Scripture loves the City. In the book of Revelation part of the New Heaven and New Earth is the New Jerusalem. So obviously, unlike the Rev. Moore, God is okay with the city.

In the final sermon of the film, the Rev. Moore has finally seen the light and allows his daughter and the kids of the church (and, one assumes, the town) to go the dance that Kevin Bacon is staging. He gives the analogy of a new parent that must learn when to let go as well as when to hold on. Again, he uses no Scripture in his sermon.

Which is perhaps why Rev. Moore is won over a bit by Kevin "6 degrees of" Bacon quoting Psalm 149 about dancing and the book of Samuel (he never says whether it is First or Second Samuel) about dancing before the ark, because the young man dancer incorporates Scripture in his city council speeches better than the pastor does in his sermons.

This inability of the pastor to use the Bible is one of the reasons the nameless Movie Church of the town of Bomont in the '80s version of "Footloose" earns only one measly steeple.

Movie Churches in the Eighties

I'm sure that within the readership of this blog there are many areas of disagreement. For churchgoers, some advocate the baptism of infants and others believe in believers only baptism; some are for sprinkling and others are for full immersion. Some would debate the Second Coming of Jesus and others the trustworthiness of Scripture. Probably some reading this blog question the deity of Christ or whether God exists at all.

But one area all reasonable people can agree upon is found in the topic of pop culture. That is the incontrovertible statement that the 1980's were the most awesome era ever for pop culture. For instance, in music there were such diverse talents as Talking Heads, Bruce Springsteen, The Police, Madonna, U2, Paul Simon, Guns N Roses, and Weird Al Yankovic at their peaks. Rap had a voice with groups like Public Enemy, punk with Black Flag, and the elderly could listen to The Rolling Stones.

The music video was born and reached its zenith in the eighties with A-ha's "Take on me," Michael Jackson's "Thriller," and whatever was happening with Bonnie Tyler and those freaky-eyed people in "Total Eclipse of the Heart." The pioneering work of Kenny Loggins hit the greatest of heights in movie soundtrack themes.

Television was having a renaissance of maturity with comedies like "Cheers" and dramas like "Hill Street Blues." War became fun on "MASH" and policing stylish on "Miami Vice." The South arose on "Dallas" and with the Dukes. "Seinfeld" had its start and "The Love Boat" its finish. (There was also a very popular comedy about an African American doctor and his family, but I can't recall its name at the moment, and neither can anyone else.)

Best of all were the movies. The second and greatest Star Trek and Star Wars movies were released in the eighties. Indiana Jones and John McClane, two of the greatest screen heroes, debuted. Ghosts were busted, aliens phoned home, blades were run and breakfasts were clubbed.

But, you may be wondering, what were Movie Churches like in this magical decade? Fortunately, Movie Churches are here to answer that question, starting with the film featuring what Star Lord described as one of the greatest of folk heroes, Kevin Bacon in "Footloose."

Check back tomorrow to see what kind of pastor John Lithgow was in the days of mullets and pixie boots.

Seven Days in Utopia (2011)

The film opens with this verse from Isaiah 30:21, "Whether you walk to the right or to the left, your ears will hear a voice behind you saying, 'This is the way, walk in it.'" The verse seems wholly appropriate since the film often doesn't seem to know which way to go. As the old saying goes, when it reaches a fork in the road, it takes it.

Well, actually, at the beginning of the film, we see a driver reaching a fork in the road and turning right, toward a town called Utopia. (Apparently, in the book, it is a left hand turn toward Utopia. I know this because I heard a portion of the book's sequel read aloud, and I noted that change was made. More about that reading later.)

The driver is a pro golfer who just suffered a meltdown in the last shot of a tournament. This is what set the golfer on the road, and a traffic accident is what strands Luke Chisholm (a mighty manly moniker) in the town of Utopia. And quicker than you can say "Doc Hollywood," tranquil rural life is making Luke into a new man.

Luke finds a mentor in Johnny Crawford, a former pro golfer himself. Robert Duvall plays Crawford and provides the same kind of sage yet curmudgeonly advice about golf that he provided for Tom Cruise about auto racing in Days of Thunder.

When Johnny drives Luke from the scene of the accident into town, they go by a church. "Evening service is letting out," Crawford says. "Don't worry, I went in the morning." You can only see part of the sign for the church, which says "United Church of". I thought it would be a United Church of Christ, but later we see that it is the "United Church of Utopia." Since it seems to be the only church in Utopia, I'm glad it is united.

Crawford has a rather unorthodox method of teaching Luke to golf. He teaches golf through fishing, painting, horseback riding and modified horseshoes, and then, occasionally, by golfing. He takes Luke golfing and tells him not to think when he golfs. He tells him before the shot to "See it, feel it and trust." He writes S.F.T. on the golf balls. For some reason, "thinking"and "thought" are bad things in Utopia and golf.

After some climatic lessons in New Age Thoughtless Golf, Luke goes to church with Johnny Crawford and Sarah, the cute girl in town who seems to like him but won't kiss him yet. (Also about Sarah, her father died two years ago and she's still getting over it before she can go on with her life dream of being a horse whisperer.) The church seems like a nice place, but we don't hear about Jesus or much else there. Luke's dad wouldn't take him to church (even on Easter) because Sunday was a day to golf, so that's a plus.

After two weeks, Luke Chisholm is ready to be back on the pro-circuit. (Crawford pulled some strings to get him invited to the Texas Open.) He's ready to golf now, because Luke has learned that life is not about putting a ball into a hole, but about faith, friends and family. And yet the movie climaxes with Luke competing in the big tournament against the world champion (named TKO). Luke shocks the world by coming from behind to lead the tournament and it all comes down to one final shot. But then the film ends.

Because it doesn't matter who wins or loses a golf game. Though the whole film centers on a man learning how to golf by faith. And you can find out if he made the shot by going to WWW.DidHeMaketheShot.com. Which kind of makes the film a commercial for screenwriter David Cook's sequel, Golf's Sacred Journey: Seven Days in Utopia.

(I know of one other film that doesn't really end, but refers to a website to find the ending: "The Devil Inside," a cheap Exorcist rip-off. So, yeah, a noble tradition.)

If you want to know if he makes the big shot and wins the big tournament, well, (Spoiler, Spoiler, Spoiler) YES, HE DOES.

We don't see much of the church, but from all I've seen of the fuzzy-headed thinking that passes for life lessons in Utopia, I'd rather not go to the United Church of Utopia, which earns 1 steeple.

True Confessions (1981)

Eating in the best restaurants, drinking the finest wines, golfing with the rich and powerful: this is the life of a clergyman in "True Confessions," an adaptation of John Gregory Dunne's novel about the murder of a prostitute, roughly based on the infamous Black Dahlia murder in Los Angeles in the 1940's.

Robert De Niro plays a priest (Msgr. Desmond Spellacy) rising in the Catholic hierarchy of Southern California. Robert Duvall plays his brother (Detective Tom Spellacy), a policeman investigating the murder of "the Virgin Tramp" (a porn starlet who may have connections to the Catholic Church). Early in the film, Duvall's cop is called to a brothel where a priest has been found dead in a bed. Duvall was previously involved with the madam of the house, and they quickly agree to cover up the circumstances of the priest's death for the good of the brothel and the Church. The Monsignor and his superiors happily conspire with the cover-up.

It is only when it becomes apparent that murder may have been involved that Desmond seems uncomfortable with the church's connection with sleazy characters. Burgess Meredith (in his good guy Rocky's coach role rather than his Penguin persona) as Monsignor Seamus Fargo confronts Desmond about his love of power. De Niro responds that power allows him to minister more effectively, and, you know, help the poor. (We don't see him helping the poor, but rather schmoozing with the rich.)

There are many wonderful passages in Scripture about power and ministry (such as 1 Corinthians 1 where Paul wrote, "Brothers and sisters, think of what you were when you were called. Not many of you were wise by human standards; not many were influential; not many were of noble birth. But God chose the foolish things of the world to shame the wise; God chose the weak things of the world to shame the strong."), but neither priest thinks to refer to them.

Eventually, Tom's investigation into the prostitute's death leads to his brother's downfall. But there are plenty of corrupt, wealth- and power-loving clergy to take his place.

We see a couple of church services in the film, and since the story takes place in the 1940s, Latin is the language used. Perhaps one could argue that the mystery of the rituals of the church rise above the petty corruption of the clergy. But even if I wasn't a Protestant this is not a church I'd want to attend.

The film is bookended by a sequence of Tom going to visit his disgraced brother Desmond, now serving in a remote desert parish. Des remarks to Tom, "No one ever visits a priest to share good news." It is Des, though, who has bad news to share. He is dying of brain cancer. Desmond as a priest never seems to have much good news to share. He is just one more corrupt person in a world where everyone seems corrupt.

The question every week is "Would I want to attend this church?" My answer would be an emphatic "No." It gets 1 steeple.