Ralph Winter: Producer of Blockbuster movies. "Gladiator" fan. Comic-book movie expert. Christian.

"Hollywood."

In the media... especially in the Christian media... the word "Hollywood" gets thrown around a lot.

"Hollywood is anti-Christian. It is always producing projects that lampoon, criticize, and ridicule Christians."

"We need to clean up Hollywood."

"Christians should not have anything to do with what comes out of Hollywood."

Meanwhile, in the middle of Hollywood, you'll find Christians are working hard to create good films, to deliver excellent performances, to write superlative scripts. And they're not necessarily stuffing the gospel message into their stories. They're just trying to do what they do with excellence.

One of those guys is Ralph Winter.

Last year, on assignment for Christianity Today, I interviewed Mr. Winter about his work, which has included playing a part in films like Star Trek VI: The Undiscovered Country, X-Men and X-Men 2: X-Men United, and Fantastic Four.

Ralph is working on a wide variety of projects within Hollywood, some of them deliberately crafted to provide a "Christian message," some of them crafted to be merely entertaining. Whether or not you're a fan of his films. I suspect that you'll find his perspective challenging.

I'm learning a lot from folks like Ralph, and I share some of those lessons that I've learned in Through a Screen Darkly. I'm learning not to use the word "Hollywood" lightly, or to say it with a sneer. There are good people working in Hollywood. There is good work coming from Hollywood. There is even rich, meaningful, beautiful work coming from people who don't know the source of their talent, or the profundity of their stories.

So take a deep breath before you use the word "Hollywood." Remember... Ralph Winter is included in that population. It's a community, not an entity single-mindedly working to crush the church.

Director Scott Derrickson is a Hollywood player as well. He's the director of the #1 box office hit The Exorcism of Emily Rose, a thoughtful filmmaker and a Christian. Derrickson shares his perspective on one of his favorite films, one of his favorite filmmakers, and some thoughts on the potential of horror movies to reveal the glory of God, in Through a Screen Darkly.

If you have comments, send them to me at joverstreet [at] gmail-dot-com.

Know this: I may post some of those responses here, on this blog. But I promise not to include your name unless you specifically give me permission to do so.

Still trying to figure out... what is a "Christian movie"?

"Christian."

What is it?

Is it an adjective?

* * * * * * * * * * * * *

Is "a Christian" someone who prayed a prayer asking Jesus into their heart? What if that person forgets about that prayer, and strays?

Is it someone who continues in a dedicated fashion to pursue and develop a relationship with Christ?

The word began as a label that others put upon the disciples of Christ, a teasing sort of label: "Little Christs." And the name stuck. It was, whether intended that way or not, rather spectacular flattery.

* * * * * * * * * * * * *

But let's stop talking about the people for a moment. Does the word "Christian" extend beyond people to apply to their works?

Can a movie become "Christian" by the insertion of a particular element?

What if a non-Christian makes that movie, and includes that "Christian" element? Is the movie a "Christian" movie, or is it disqualified because he is an unbeliever?

Is a "Christian movie" somehow more appropriate for Christians to watch than a "non-Christian movie"?

What makes a movie "Christian"?

* * * * * * * * * * * * *

Or should we perhaps avoid using that term as an adjective?

* * * * * * * * * * * * *

Is Charles Dickens' A Christmas Carol a "Christian" story? It's full of ghosts and curses, so....

Is it a non-Christian story? It teaches a moral lesson, and it "keeps the Christ in Christmas," so....

* * * * * * * * * * * * *

Many Christians are praising the movie Facing the Giants because of its "Christian elements." Does that make it a better movie... the fact that the characters openly testify to faith in Christ?

Is it a Christian movie because the Christian characters who demonstrate faith in Christ end up winning games?

At the Internet Movie Database today, a reporter writes:

Facing the Giants is the third uplifting football movie released this month, although this one may be more faith-based than the others. And therein lies a problem: how can the outcome of the movie be otherwise than imagined since God figures so intrinsically in the plot? Jeff Strickler, writing for the McClatchy newspaper chain puts it this way: "The religious proselytizing in this football movie is about as subtle as a blind-side hit by a 300-pound defensive tackle."

I haven't seen the movie, so I don't have an opinion about it. But it does raise the question again: Since non-believers look at this film and sense an agenda to present the gospel in a persuasive manner, does that make this film a "Christian" movie?

Is a "Christian" movie one in which the Christians pray and win the football game? The reporter writes that it's hard for him to imagine a "faith-based" movie in which the faith-based team loses a game. Why? Don't Christians ever lose games? Do we need to be assured that faith will lead us to victories in the world's sense of winning games and getting satisfaction?

Could the team lose, and it still be a "faith-based" movie? Would it somehow be a strike against the Christian team if they lost the game?

* * * * * * * * * * * * *

What about The Nativity Story, the upcoming film from a secular movie studio, written by a Christian, starring non-Christians, that tells the story of Christ's birth. Is that a "Christian" movie?

* * * * * * * * * * * * *

What about the home movie I made the other night with my digital camera, in which I let the camera gaze long and hard at the glory of the setting sun. What would make that a "Christian movie"?

Must I recite a verse aloud, so you can hear that while you watch what God is doing?

Is it a "Christian movie" because I, believing in Christ, filmed it?

Or would it be "Christian" if Joe Pagan walked down to the beach and filmed the same thing in the same way?

* * * * * * * * * * * * *

What is this adjective... "Christian"... that we put before things like movies and music?

* * * * * * * * * * * * *

Amy Grant sang a lot of songs to God. Then she sang a song of love to her husband, and many Christians complained that she had stopped singing "Christian music."

It is not "Christian" to sing a song of love to one's spouse, the way that Solomon sang love songs to his sexy lovers?

What if a non-Christian sings a song of devotion and love to their spouse? Is that "Christian"?

* * * * * * * * * * * * *

Perhaps "Christian" isn't a very good adjective.

* * * * * * * * * * * * *

Perhaps we shouldn't worry about dividing art into "Christian" and "secular." Perhaps we should investigate whether God can speak through all kinds of art, and whether all kinds of artists are capable of really tacky art even if they believed in Christ all along the way.

* * * * * * * * * * * * *

My wife Anne once spoke at a poetry conference. A woman came to her with a stack of poems and asked Anne to tell her who would publish them. Anne asked if she could read them. The woman said, "Yes. God gave them to me. I prayed and prayed, and he gave me these poems. They need to be published." Anne read them. They were poorly written. They were, basically, prayers on paper. They were not really poetry. They did not invite us to investigate what they meant, or give us anything to wrestle with. They did not show much deliberation over particular words. But they did, in fact, make it very clear that the writer believed in God. They also showed that the writer had invested a lot of her own money in binding these poems together with a handsome, exquisitely decorated cover.

Was that Christian poetry?

Should it, indeed, be published... because the woman had so much faith and had volunteered so much of her own money to bring its message to others?

Or should she be told, "I'm sorry. I know you care about this. But this isn't really poetry. Or, if it is, any accomplished poet will tell you that it is mediocre poetry, or worse. You need to take some classes. You need to learn the art of metaphor, meter, and concentrating your language. If you want to glorify God, you need to do more than give it a positive message. You need to make it a beautiful work of language. You need to make it excellent." ?

* * * * * * * * * * * * *

Once, when my friend Martin and I were talking with T-Bone Burnett, we were talking about the difference between "sacred" art and "secular" art, between Christian muic and non-Christian music. When asked what advice he would give to Christian musicians, trying to live Christian lives, and navigate their way through the Christian and the mainstream music industries, he suddenly asked us why we needed to worry so much about the word "Christian."

"Why can't we just be people?" he asked.

* * * * * * * * * * * * *

Why can't we just live as people, testifying that we believe in Christ, and let other people decide whether our behavior demonstrates any kind of Christ-likeness. Why must we always use this word to divide our work into "Christian" and "secular"?

Are "Christian books" just for Christians? I hope not. Then why must they bear such a label, which immediately turns so many potential readers away from them... readers who might enjoy them?

* * * * * * * * * * * * *

Perhaps we should avoid labeling things like this, and let what we do speak for itself in its truthfulness, its excellence, and its beauty.

* * * * * * * * * * * * *

In Through a Screen Darkly, I've written a bit about the apallingly bad art I've encountered that has been labeled as "Christian," and the transcendent, profound art that has led me into deeper relationship with God... art that was made by unbelievers for their own agendas.

Maybe it's not up to us to label these things. Maybe God likes to remind us that he can speak through the most unexpected, "un-Christian" things. Maybe he likes to humble us Christians when we start declaring that our own works are somehow divinely inspired and superior just because we've put Jesus' name on them.

As the Scriptures say, many will come before God and say, "Lord, Lord, look at the things we did in your name!" And he will say, "Depart from me, I never knew you."

* * * * * * * * * * * * *

Art is a way of exploring, studying, and investigating God. It is a way of practicing the work of incarnation -- giving things shape, discovering the reflection of God in those things, and then sharing them with others. It is a way of finding that God is present even in the work of those who don't believe in him -- because, whether they like it or not, they are made in his image.

Are we approaching art in that way?

Or are we more concerned with creating codes by which we can judge the works of others and, as a result, judge them?

* * * * * * * * * * * * *

Jesus sometimes told his disciples not to go into a community declaring that the Son of God was coming. Sometimes, he wanted his work to speak for itself, and let people start asking questions until they came to that conclusion on their own.

People don't like it when other people start shoving answers down their throat when they haven't even asked a question. But when they ask the question, investigate, and discover it on their own... then, it is theirs. It is personal. It sticks.

So why label these things? Why put a flashing banner on it that says, "Christian! Christian! Christian" before they even experience the work itself?

* * * * * * * * * * * * *

This is the kind of path my mind takes on a Saturday afternoon, when I'm not trying to get projects done at work.

Perhaps I need a long vacation.

If you have comments, send them to me at joverstreet [at] gmail-dot-com.

Know this: I may post some of those responses here, on this blog. But I promise not to include your name unless you specifically give me permission to do so.

Why my faith is not "FoxFaith," and great art is not necessarily "Christian art"

When I saw a promotional video for the arrival of FoxFaith, a special library of movies that "Christians and families can enjoy," I had a flashback.

As I perused the titles of films being included in that label, I felt the walls closing in, trapping me in a familiar world of art that consisted of:

A) Nice, gentle, comfortable entertainment
B) American nostalgia
C) Bible stories.

About ten years ago, I decided that I couldn't take living in such a small world anymore.

I was no longer content to believe what I was being taught within the culture of the churches I'd attended and the Christian school in which I studied.

No, it wasn't Christianity that I questioned. What I saw in the world around me only affirmed my belief that this world is in trouble, and that Christ is our only hope.

But the limitations being set on what television, movies, music, literature, and art were acceptable for my attention... it just didn't match up with what I was coming to understand about the challenges Christ has given to his church. I accepted the New Testament's declaration that all things in the culture around me are lawful for me, and I am free to move about the country.

But there's more that passage. It says that "Not all things are profitable." There's the rub. I wanted to be free, but I also wanted to learn to discern what works of art were profitable... what works of art were, to borrow some words from Philippians, excellent, of good repute, and worthy of praise.

I could no longer buy the idea that, when it comes to art, Christians should only pay attention to:

• whatever is clean;
• whatever is free of anything that could possibly offend;
• whatever is cute;
• whatever portrays America as blameless;
• whatever assures us that the good guys always win;
• whatever is safe for six-year-olds and simplistic enough for them to understand;
• and whatever openly proclaims the name of Jesus.

For me, these qualifications confined me to a sort of wish-fulfillment art. It limited me to a particular corner of Christian culture in which we dreamed about what we wanted the world to look like... a sort of Thomas Kincaid vision of the world... not art that challenged me to grapple with the dark, complicated world I live in, where answers don't come easy. It was art designed to make me comfortable, not art designed to challenge my mind and test me.

As I began to read and study classic literature in high school and at Seattle Pacific University, I was challenged by visionary Christian instructors to ask myself why it was culturally "okay" for Christians to read classic literature, which reflects the messy realities of the past, but it wasn't considered okay for Christians to engage with contemporary art, which reflects the messy realities of the present.

I began turning my attention to Great Art instead of "Christian art," I found that there is much more to be enjoyed, discovered, and learned from beauty, excellence, and truth, than the stuff being labeled as "Christian art" in the aisles of Christian supply stores.

While I did find occasional examples of "Christian art" that were challenging, like the music of Mark Heard, Leslie Phillips, and Steve Taylor, these were exceptions to the rule. Their music was honest, provocative. They wrestled with the tough questions and the doubts. Thus, when they offered praise or affirmed their faith, it was that much more powerful. They had integrity. Meanwhile, the other "Christian" expressions felt, for the most part, like people going through the motions, like mere repetition of familiar scriptures and ideas instead of expressions from those who had been out in the world and learned through the testing of their faith.

Great heroes of the faith were not people who made themselves comfortable in a "Christian" subculture and sat around singing praises. They were people who went out into the world and put their faith to the test.

I became convinced that any art that

• is true;
• that is beautiful;
• that is excellent;
• that is honest;
• that represents evil as bearing consequences;
• that represents love as light in darkness;
• that steers our attention away from ourselves and toward something greater;

... this is the art capable of revealing God's truth to us.

It is art that affirms hope and design and order and the possibility of redemption even in the midst of ugliness, sin, chaos, and failure.

"Christian" or otherwise... no art will be perfect. That's because art, even art made by Christians, is a work of human minds and hands. And human minds and hands are flawed and fumbling, even at their best

But the best art will endure because it will capture and reflect something of excellence and beauty. Excellence and beauty cannot help but reflect the glory of God.

This means that great art, art that opens us to the possibility of inspiration and encounters with the Sublime, may very likely come from the imaginations of unbelievers, who do not realize that the materials of their work speak volumes beyond what the artist intends... and that's just the way God intended it.

Woody Allen's movies have brought me closer to God. That would make him furious, but his movies about running from God show me a vision of hell, and show me what we give up when we lose our faith. Steven Spielberg's films have enhanced my faith by rekindling within me a childlike sense of wonder as I watch. And the more I have explored the vast geography of filmmaking, the more I find startling affirmations of God's grace, and revelations of his power, in unexpected places... like the films of Kieslowski, Tarkovsky, and Bresson; Haneke, the Coen Brothers, and the Andersons (Paul Thomas and Wes).

In a letter, C.S. Lewis wrote:

‘Creation’ as applied to human authorship seems to me to be an entirely misleading term. We re-arrange elements He has provided. And that is surely why our works never mean to others quite what we intended; because we are recombining elements made by Him and already containing His meanings. Because of those divine meanings in our materials it is impossible that we should ever know the whole meaning of our works and the meaning we never intended may be the best and truest one.

This means that we simply cannot create a category called "Christian art" and identify it by the faith-affiliation of its artist, or any clear and identifying "Christian message."

All art by Christians will be characterized, to some extent, by flaws and misconceptions and limitations.

And all art by non-Christians will, to some extent, exhibit God's glory, even if they artists strive to contradict that.

I don't limit myself or fence myself into the corral of "Christian music" or "Christian movies." Out in the vast expanse of art, I have been nourished by works created by some of the most reckless and irresponsible individuals (some of whom are as prone to error as myself). And I have been insulted and even sickened by the self-righteousness, emptiness, derivative nature, "sanitized" quality, and laziness of much that is labeled as "Christian art."

Someone is sure to challenge me with examples of excellence that have been produced within those confines, and I don't deny that they exist. But they are few and far between. Many celebrated as achievements of surpassing excellence will, when held up against artistic achievement beyond those wall, look cheap, derivative, and disposable by comparison.

***

In an interview with Mary Kenagy, managing editor of Image journal, I asked her about the new fiction collection called The Best Christian Short Stories. I asked her what distinguished these stories, including one of her own, from what we usually find in the "Christian fiction" section. What sets this anthology apart?

She said:

Well, pain, of course. The Christian story – the central Christian story, I mean, Jesus coming to earth and dying and all that – doesn’t shy away from pain. But since Christians are often nice people, gentle people, we get this mistaken idea that they should be reading some special kind of kinder, gentler fiction than every one else, an idea that is doing nobody any favors.

And then from there, once you have Christian fiction in a ghetto, in a smaller pool, whatever is rising to the top won’t be as good – in terms of its talent and craft and discipline -- as what rises in the open sea of contemporary literature at large.

I like my story, but I am not as good a writer as Marilynne Robinson and Alice Munro and Joy Williams and people whose work is not in the Christian section.

So why have an anthology like this one? I think this collection can work as a bridge for readers who think they only want to look at books in the Christian section. What I hope happens is that it could coax those readers out onto the open sea. Because a lot of the writers in the anthology are visible both on the sea and on the pond, if I can just drive that metaphor in the ground.

I want to sail the open sea.

Great art will not merely show us what is pleasing to the eye. It will sometimes reflect horrifying, dismaying, ugly truths about sin and the fallen state of the world. It will reflect what is lovely and appealing, but it will also reflect the folly of human behavior. It will move us to humility, not arrogance; Godliness, not nationalism; an authentic encounter with the truth rather than an emotional encounter with nostalgia and sentimentality.

***

Thus, it was with great dismay that I encountered this promotional video from Fox.

The studio announced a whole new label... a whole new branch of entertainment.

It's called "FoxFaith".

What will you see on the FoxFaith network?

"Family and Christian films everyone can enjoy."

Huh. Okay, what qualifies as a film for "FoxFaith"?

Well, at first glance I see a whole lot more evidence of mediocrity than excellence.

Sure, they've got a classic or two, including The Grapes of Wrath and The Passion of the Christ.

But they've also included: My Friend Flicka. Cheaper by the Dozen (the lame Steve Martin remake.) Oklahoma.

And something that loooks like a sign of the apocalypse: Strawberry Shortcake: Adventures On Ice Cream.

And, of course... Garfield The Movie.

I am not making this up. (More info in this L.A. Times article.)

In other words, the films they recommend for Christians and families are often works that are innocuous, mediocre, and merely nostalgic, providing us with little or no challenge whatsoever.

They also primarily reflect the values of white, American, middle-class, 20th-century culture. Not a foreign film in the bunch.

At last, a collection to keep us safe and warm, to prevent us from growing and changing, to save us from the unsettling influence of visionary art.

South Pacific?

This is a list containing a lot of art crafted for the lowest common denominator, not art that presents us with exemplary craftsmanship and galvanizing visions of the truth.

Oh, sure there are a couple of titles in there that can be applauded for some level of artistic achievement... but most of those those are bathed in the glow of sentimentality and Americana. Yes, there are even a couple there that were produced by a friend of mine, but they're not his finest works, and if I were him, I wouldn't want my work to be pigeonholed in a collection that looks like it was chosen by people who spend their evenings watching the Hallmark Channel.

So it was with relief and a hearty "hear hear!!" that I read Jason Morehead's response to the very same endeavor at his blog, Opus. Jason writes:

Christianity is not "family safe", nor should "Christian" art be passed off only as such. Of course, "Christian" art needs to focus on whatever is good and true and lovely. But at the same time, it also needs to take an honest accounting of human brokenness, evil, injustice, and all of the other nasty things that permeate this life. But somehow I doubt that such art will be coming from the gates of FoxFaith, though I would love to be proven wrong.

I, too, hope FoxFaith has much more exciting recommendations on its calendar.

***

When the Christian film buffs and movie critics over at Arts and Faith voted on what they consider the Top 100 spiritually significant films ever made, the list came out looking very different. We were voting on the films that challenge us with superlative, exemplary artistry, and with stories that nourish the spirit.

You can read that list here.

And I can assure you, Hangman's Curse and South Pacific and Garfield the Movie aren't anywhere near it. Spiritually significant art is not designed to make us comfortable. But there are plenty of films on this list that people of all ages can enjoy.

***

S0... what are some of the films that have challenged my faith, inspired me to consider the mysteries of God, and nourished me? For every viewer it will be a little different. In Through a Screen Darkly, I've written about how my life was deeply enriched by films like:

Chariots of Fire
Babette's Feast
The Mission
The Story of the Weeping Camel
Wings of Desire
Raiders of the Lost Ark
Amadeus
The Fisher King
Dead Man Walking
Don't Come Knocking
Saved!
Les Fils (The Son)
Taxi Driver
Magnolia
Punch-drunk Love
Code Unknown
Gosford Park
Ordet
Au Hasard Balthazar
Three Colors: Blue
The New World

In fact, the book includes a list of almost 200 titles recommended for moviegoers to watch and discuss the themes and spiritual explorations taking place there.

Few of these films announce themselves as "Christian," and many of them would be inappropriate viewing for young children. (There are, however, several titles that I would be happy to show to children, to give them examples of excellence rather than sentimentality, art rather than mere entertainment. And these would be much more challenging, much more excellent than any of those "family-friendly features" on the FoxFaith list.)

If Christians would spend less time protesting movies that offend them (The DaVinci Code), and less time celebrating not-so-sensational films as the pinnacle of art (The Chronicles of Narnia: The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe), they might begin to discover that films are not defined by the way they are marketed, or the labels attached to them.

There are profoundly inspring, challenging, true, and beautiful films coming from all corners of the world, from all eras of filmmaking, and from both sides of the political divide. We need to stop looking for those that come to town wearing badges that say "Christian-friendly" or "processed for easy family consumption." We need to be "transformed by the renewing of our minds," so that we can recognize how excellence reflects God far more powerfully than blatant preachiness.

I hope you'll find Through a Screen Darkly to be a conversation-starter. And that it will loosen the stifling restraints of Christian culture, offering some perspective that will help liberate us further to find glimmers of christ in a wide range of art.

There is a lot of beauty out there. A lot of truth. Discerning minds will find it wherever they go, in rare and wonderful expressions.

FoxFaith is probably only the beginning of the industry's move toward branding and selling movies to Christians. Let's not fall for it. Let's resist conforming to the patterns of popular culture and marketing. Let's demonstrate discernment by embracing truth and excellence wherever it can be found, and not judge DVDs by the labels slapped on their covers.

TO COMMENT, write to joverstreet [at] gmail.com.

Some people are really excited about this book.

Seriously, though, I think this is taking it too far.

What's in the book? Here's an outline...

This is the Table of Contents for the book. Each chapter is a mix of memories, excerpts from interviews, reviews, and exploration.

Introduction

PART ONE: How We Watch

1. How a Camel Made a Grown Man Cry
(with notes on: The Story of the Weeping Camel, Dances With Wolves, Chariots of Fire, and more)

2. Viewer Discretion Advised
(with notes on: Don’t Come Knocking)

3. A Feast of Movies
(with notes on: Babette’s Feast)

4. Wonders of Heaven and Earth
(with notes on: Close Encounters of the Third Kind, Wings of Desire)

PART TWO: Saving the World

5. Coming to the Rescue
(with notes on: The Empire Strikes Back, The Lord of the Rings: The Return of the King, Raiders of the Lost Ark, A Man for All Seasons, Gosford Park)

6. A Personal History of Violence
(with notes on: Man on Fire, Unforgiven)

7. The Least of These
(with notes on: Born into Brothels, The Motorcycle Diaries)

PART THREE: Fools And Comedians

8. Suffering Fools Gladly
(with notes on: The Fisher King, Forrest Gump, Amadeus, Ordet)

9. Laughing at My Reflection
(with notes on: Saved!)

PART FOUR: Art of Darkness

10. One is the Loneliest Number
(with notes on: Taxi Driver, Punch-Drunk Love, Code Unknown)

11. Making Darkness Visible
(with notes on: Alien, The Exorcism of Emily Rose)

12. Judgments of the Heart
(with notes on: Apocalypse Now, Titanic, Dead Poet’s Society, Ikiru)

PART FIVE: Summoned by Music and Light

13. Pours Forth Speech
(with notes on: Three Colors: Blue, The New World)

14. Chasing the Light

(copied here with permission of the publisher, Regal Books)

Introducing... "Through a Screen Darkly: Looking Closer at Beauty, Truth and Evil in the Movies"

Here's a sneak preview of the book's introduction (published here with permission from Regal Books). I welcome your thoughts, questions, and comments.

(Since we're still in the editing phase, you're welcome to send me corrections if you find any that are necessary... but send those via email to joverstreet [at] gmail.com, so they don't clutter the discussion. Thanks.)

introduction

“You didn’t like it? Why not? That movie changed my life!”

“How can you call that piece of trash your favorite movie of the year?”

Over the last decade of writing film reviews for magazines and Web sites like LookingCloser.org and Christianity Today Movies, I’ve received all kinds of questions, some of them charged with emotion. “How can I know if a movie is safe for my children?” “Aren’t you taking this too seriously? Isn’t it just entertainment?” “American Beauty changed my life — how can you say that it’s flawed?” “The New World bored me to tears. How could you recommend something that moves so slowly?” Many of these questions require more than short answers, more than an argument.

Movies inspire passionate feelings. And those feelings, once expressed, can inspire strong bonds between us, or cause us to clash. As I sort through my email and talk with moviegoers at work, church, or film festivals, I find that once we get past those initial, emotional responses and begin to explore our shared experiences and differing interpretations, we can learn a great deal about each other and ourselves.

Because I am a Christian and a movie critic, I wrestle with certain questions that other film reviewers may never face. Religious readers are particularly interested in what filmmaking and faith have to do with each other. Viewers raise questions about movies that are “worldly,” or violent, or films in which they perceive a political agenda. One asks, “Is it okay for Christians to watch R-rated movies?” Another writes, “You gave that Bruce Willis film a good review — but what about the foul language?” Some are troubled by the sex scene in Cold Mountain, or the unflattering portrayal of prayerful Christians in Talladega Nights: The Legend of Ricky Bobby. Some are worried about witchcraft in the world of Harry Potter, and others declare that Hollywood is preoccupied with attacking traditional values. “The Bible says we should have nothing to do with darkness,” a reader reminded me. “So, how can you justify spending so much time at the movies?”

I’ve wrestled with many of the same questions in past years. The answers did not come easy. While other moviegoers were quick to instruct me on what movies were good or bad, backing up their arguments with Bible verses and statistics, my experience and understanding of Christian freedom and responsibility led me to different conclusions and to new questions as well.

Thus, when I respond to readers, I find my answers require something more than a simple explanation. I end up sharing stories about my journey. I talk about my changing relationships with certain films, my conversations with moviegoers and filmmakers, and events that transformed me.

So I decided to write a book.

And the book became another chapter in that journey. I retraced my steps backward from Michael Haneke’s Code Unknown, Krzysztof Kieslowski’s Three Colors trilogy, and Wim Wenders’ Wings of Desire, all the way to the days when Raiders of the Lost Ark and Star Wars stimulated my young imagination. As I did, I began to see how the power of art has led me to growth and understanding. I realized that I was already responding to the light shining through art when I was nine years old, delighting as Kermit the Frog headed out of the swamp on a rickety bicycle to pursue his dreams in The Muppet Movie.

I was also startled to discover how profoundly time and experience have changed my perspective. As I re-read my own review of Spike Jonze’s film Adaptation, I was ashamed to find that I had reacted hastily to the film. The characters’ reckless behavior had made me uncomfortable, and so I had judged the film prematurely, without perceiving the film’s meaningful observations on human depravity. Revisiting the film since then, I’ve been moved and inspired. Other films that ignited my enthusiasm now, after a second or third viewing, seem heavy-handed or derivative — even shallow.

This is one of the things I’ve learned along the way — a first impression is rarely the final word on a movie, and, in fact, there is probably no final word at all. Art needs time to settle in our minds and hearts so that the process of contemplation, discussion, and ongoing exploration can open up possibilities that never occurred to us in the theater.

This process was first modeled for me by Roger Ebert and Gene Siskel on television. Even as a ten-year-old, I wanted to understand how two experienced and respected moviegoers could disagree so passionately and glean such varying insights from the same movies. Their heated exchanges made art seem so much more mysterious, so full of possibility. I began to understand that this — interpretation, conversation, and revelation — was what art was all about. Even though they concluded with “thumbs up” or “thumbs down,” moviegoing was not really about casting judgments. No simple checklist of do’s and don’ts, no quick scan for certain volatile ingredients, could lead me to a fair assessment of a film. This was to be a journey.

I’m sure that many of my strongest friendships would never have grown without the art that provoked me to share feelings with others and learn from their perspectives. Would I have met and fallen in love with my wife if I had not learned a few things from movies about love and looking closer?

Writing this book has shown me how movies have enhanced my life. It has reminded me of why I do this — why I see movies two or three times (or more), why I examine the truth that shines darkly through the veil of the movie screen, and why I go home to write about the experience. Just as Christ’s listeners attended to his metaphors and parables, and heard him say, “Those who have ears to hear, let them hear,” so I have found that we can glimpse transforming truth through the beauty of art if we put aside fear and judgment, and look with “eyes to see.”

This book is not a catalogue prescribing what movies you see and what you should avoid. It’s not a technical manual on the finer points of filmmaking. It is, rather, an invitation to the journey. To those who wrote to me with questions about moviegoing and never received a reply — I apologize for the delay. But I could not give you a satisfactory response without presenting the bigger picture, without taking you to the movies with me.

I hope you’ll come along and join the conversation.

A word from Frederick Buechner

The world speaks of the holy in the only language it knows, which is a worldly language.

- Frederick Buechner, A Room to Remember

A word from Teilhard de Chardin

By means of all created things, without exception, the divine assails us, penetrates us, and molds us. We imagined it as distant and inaccessible, whereas in fact we live steeped in its burning layers.

- Teilhard de Chardin, The Divine Milieu