Review

Review Date: 20-February-05
Spoiler Rating: Medium
Juju Judgment: Just OK

Constantine (2005)

The appeal of religion, particularly Christianity, has always been lost on me. Putting aside the cliquishness and posturing, the concept of two celestial kingpins sending forth their agents, minions, and sons to lay down rules, cut deals, and wage a cosmic war for human souls leaves me either cold or giggly — even the most cursory inspection of my faithless heart convinces me that if anything supernatural's going on, it must be a lot less cheesy than that. But as I was watching "Constantine" I had a sort of epiphany. While wishing for a modicum of interest in God and the Devil (if only to enjoy the movie more), I suddenly realized that something was keeping me hungry for the next scene and the next. What on earth could it be? And then it hit me, like a bolt from the blue. Maybe Christianity has the same thing going for it that "Constantine" does: the persistent, tantalizing suggestion of sex.

Based on the comic book series "Hellblazer," "Constantine" stars Keanu Reeves as a put-upon guy doomed to take center stage in the battle between Good and Evil. As a teenager, John Constantine went to Hell and back, and now as a hard-boiled adult he's facing a return trip courtesy of lung cancer. (Attention, young exorcists: lay off the cigarettes!) Most people are loath to head this south of the border, but none more so than John: having spent his life destroying demons who make their way onto the human plane, he has a lot of enemies in the Netherworld. Proving the lord works in mysterious ways, his last hurrah turns into a major incident in metaphysical history after he meets a policewoman (Rachel Weisz) whose sister has committed suicide under mysterious circumstances. Their quest to discover the meaning of her death uncovers a nefarious plan involving Satan, the angel Gabriel, and a host of creepy, crawly bugs, and proves to be the door to John's salvation.

The staging and special effects in "Constantine" offer nothing we haven't seen before, but they help create a seedy atmosphere that puts one in mind of backstreet bars and nameless hookers. Which is exactly where we want to be when dealing with death and redemption. It's sick, no doubt, but people like their spiritualism fraught with desire, their eroticism tinged with fear. (What fun is it if it doesn't hurt a little? Ask Saint Teresa, she knows.) For all the hip sorcerers and ghoulish baddies that make up The Balance (e.g., Djimon Hounsou as a voodoo daddy and singer Gavin Rossdale as an angel of death), the point of the story is the chemistry and physical presence of the two attractive leads: Weisz with her gorgeous grey eyes and Reeves with, well, everything exactly the way it should be. The two spend most of the time getting wet in white shirts, their perfect, moistened lips whispering desperate truths about "never going back" but failing again and again to find each other. (Even Gabriel, played by a puckish Tilda Swinton, seems unangelically ready for sport.) Why does "Constantine" give us several graphic looks at Hell but only the briefest, goofiest glimpse of Heaven? Because Heaven, my friends, isn't the real epitome of bliss, the real antithesis of damnation. That's something we get right here on Earth, and its fulfillment we can all imagine.

Among the countless reasons I avoided "The Passion of the Christ" last year was the revolting thought of sitting amidst men, women, and children masturbating, psychologically and/or physically, over the seductive combination of pain, death, righteousness, and a beautiful, mostly naked human body. "Constantine," in its own way, is more of the same, a (less violent) hodgepodge of the longings, terrors, and images that have been turning people on for centuries. But it doesn't take itself nearly as seriously (would Satan wear such a tacky suit in LA?), and it showed this hellbound sinner, at least, that religion might serve a purpose.

Copyright © 2005 The Jujube (M. I. Kim). All rights reserved.