Des hommes et des dieux, Xavier Beauvois, 2010. FRA.

I’ve been toiling over my thoughts on Xavier Beauvois Of Gods And Men for a few days now, which considering the subject matter of the film is strangely appropriate. Of Gods And Men tells the story of a commune of Cistercian monks living atop a hill in Algeria, who, when confronted with the growing tide of religious extremism are forced to confront their faith head-on; do they stay and fight for what they believe in, or do they move on to the safety of a world which hasn’t rejected them?

When one thinks of French cinema and spirituality, there is a name that immediately springs to mind; Robert Bresson. While Beauvois film lacks the subtlety of the work of Bresson the concept of faith above sense, one of the base themes of Bresson’s work remains within Of Gods And Men. And to be fair, comparing any work with that of Bresson would leave most far behind. Issues of faith on screen have been a long-term background theme to my own interests in cinema (that is to say, that I wouldn’t consider them themes which I seek out, yet am still seemingly attracted to), with works such as Black Narcissus, Vivre Sa Vie and even the Coen brothers A Serious Man all favourites that deal with protagonists facing questions of mortality and faith.

While it may be unfair, or even crass to, I couldn’t help but associate Of Gods And Men in with Jacques Audiard’s A Prophet. Both films deal with a clash of cultures and religion (to refer to such things on the most base of levels), and I don’t think that I would be alone in associating this particular strand of current French cinema with contextual concerns within France politically and socially at the moment. Vocal in its opposition towards specific cultural traditions, both Of Gods And Men and A Prophet appear to be explicit commentary on the views of the controlling French right. A projected uprising, as seen on screen earlier this year in French cinema via Clair Denis’ White Material reaches into the most persistent fears of a country deep rooted in issues of post-colonial control. Its almost as if this latest wave of Gallic cinema is attempted to apologise yet again for its housing country’s own history, following in the footsteps of a subgenre of cinema that began with Godard’s Le Petit Soldat in the early 1960’s. That Of Gods And Men, like A Prophet was welcomed and rewarded at the Cannes Film Festival (with both taking the Grand Prix award in their respective years at the festival) suggests a secondary level of interaction regarding the country’s foreign policy, this time viewed from the foreign eyes that form that particular festival jury.

The film relies almost wholly upon staggering its beautiful photography in order to tell its story. Dialogue is at a minimum, with the mixed languages of the Algerian landscape dictating that communiqué is formed through the language of religion and medicine, and non-diegetic sound is at a minimum, with the score provided largely from the hymnal chanting of the monks (and, importantly, the traditional song of the North African villagers). There is one scene involving music, albeit diegetic, which involves the playing of a recording of Tchaikovsky’s Swan Lake. The sequence in question falls at a pivotal moment, with the monks aware of their fate in a manner not dissimilar to epiphany. As the scene plays out, Tchaikovsky’s ballet score builds to its inevitable climax, reflecting the destiny of those on screen, wholly aware of said destiny for the first time. It’s an incredibly moving scene, with the orchestration providing the first semblance of a defined emotional backbone for the first time throughout the film.

It is the aforementioned general lack of definition that led to my own reservations with regards to how I felt about Of Gods And Men. At times the “message” of the film feels incredibly heavy handed, and even patronising in its portrayal. With that in mind though, the closing revelation of the film’s post-script, which will be discussed at a later date, really does lend a kick to the realisation that the at-times-labelled-steretypical tone of Of Gods And Men is not all that it seems.

Of Gods And Men opens Friday 3rd December.