Rating: C+
Dir: Jaco Van Dormael
Star: Pili Groyne, Benoît Poelvoorde, Marco Lorenzini, Yolande Moreau
I liked the concept. But the longer this went on, the more I felt like it was simply replacing one set of dogma with another set – and an arguably more dubious one. The idea of God living in Brussels, and running things from an apartment where he lives with his downtrodden wife (Moreau) and rebellious young daughter, Ea (Groyne), is wonderful. That he is a bad-tempered bastard who spends his time largely tormenting mankind, creating laws about the toast always falling jam-side down, is genius. That he’s played by Poelvoorde, most famous as the serial killer in Man Bites Dog, is perfect. All of a sudden, the way the universe works makes sense.
Ea has had enough, however, sneaks into her father’s office (top) and sends a mass text informing everyone precisely how long they have left to live. This upends the religious apple-cart, and she then sneaks out through a washing-machine portal in search of six additional apostles. Because 18 is the number of players on a baseball team, of course. With homeless Victor (Lorenzini) as her chronicler, she goes to inform the new disciples of their role. They range from a young boy who wants to be a girl, to a sex maniac, and a wannabe serial killer. They also include Catherine Deneuve, who decides to spend her remaining time having a zoophiliac relationship with a gorilla. Yeah, you’ll understand why I was not entirely convinced by this alternate approach to morality, where everything is apparently acceptable.
This is certainly sacrilegious, and probably blasphemous as well. I’m fine with that, not least because I am of no fixed faith. However, I tend to think religion provides a moral framework, and if it’s removed or undermined without replacement, it leaves society weaker as a result. Certainly, the individuals here are very flawed, and I’d say, are in need of more guidance, not less. Despite the (rather smug) depiction of God as an abusive father, I found myself becoming sympathetic to him. God is thoroughly exasperated by his son (interestingly, only ever referred to as “JC”, never as Jesus), saying “All he managed to do was to get himself nailed up like an owl.”
The rest of it comes over largely as a soap-opera of tolerance. It focuses on characters who, inevitably, are less interesting than the omnipotent creator of the universe and his family. It’s undeniably well-made, and I was pleasantly surprised to discover the soundtrack was by Belgian singer An Pierlé, of whom I’ve been a fan since hearing her cover of Are Friends Electric? back in 1997. But as this goes on, the satire here becomes more obviously one-directional, and the message begins to overwhelm the medium. By the time we get to a prepubescent boy demanding everyone else accept his self-proclaimed gender identity… Yeah, I was increasingly on #TeamPillarOfSalt. Given my agnostic tendencies going in, turning me into a raging fundie almost deserves a “Well done!”