Director: Xavier Beauvois
Run Time: 123 minutes
Cast: Lambert Wilson, Michael Lonsdale, Olivier Rabourdin, Roschdy Zem, Sabrina Ouazani.
Language: French
When I think of monks I think of the most noble of human characteristics. I think of service, faith, devotion, and self-sacrifice. I think of strength and reliability. I envision tranquility. I envision peace. Monks are love and simplicity personified.
Now, thanks to the meticulous and extraordinary directing of Xavier Beauvois, I not only thought of these things, but I felt them as I watched “Of Gods and Men.” Not typically a fan of slower paced movies, I was pleasantly surprised by how much I enjoyed this film. I was captivated by the way in which Beauvois was able to perfectly capture the noble virtues espoused by these men of the cloth.
Beauvois understood the point he was trying to convey, and he chose the style of shooting that would best convey that point. One of the tools he used to help us experience these qualities was his masterful use of cameras, cuts, and pacing. Beauvouis relied almost exclusively on long, fixed-camera takes, and scenic panoramas in order to create a slow pace for the movie. One could say the movie crawl along through lingering shots. Not only that, but the object of these long, steady takes was usually some monotonous chore or activity of the monastery’s inhabitants which exaggerated the already slow passing of time. It was not uncommon for Beauvois to spend a full 30 seconds watching Christian (Lambert Wilson) pour honey into jars or Doctor Luc (_________) taking a walk or even just watching the trees blow in the wind. It also made me feel like I was actually in the movie and living with the monks in their spartan lives. I firmly believe that this was the only real way to accurately convey the characteristics of these monks, which was the point of the film.
Another aspect of the film that I enjoyed was Beauvois’ demonstration of the monks’ tremendous self discipline, hard work, reliability, and close communion with God through nature. Throughout the film, several things remain constant: prayer and hymns, duties and rituals, and fellowship with the other monks. The inflexible way in which Beauvois presents us with scene after scene of prayer, daily chores, meetings, and work or reflection in nature produced within me a feeling of great repetition. I felt like I was on a strict schedule from which I could not deviate. Each aspect of the monks’ lives was made to seem routine and inexorable by the consistent flow of each type of scene in approximately even intervals throughout the film.
Furthermore, this rhythmic flow of spirituality, manual labor, productivity, and fellowship with the other monks (through meetings and rituals) also gave me a sense of deep devotion. The kind of devotion and self-discipline that could only come from God. As I watched the reactions of some of my fellow viewers in the theater, many became weary of seeing the monks’ repetitious lives played out on the screen without end.
However, I think that this was the point. Beavois wanted us to grow weary of watching these men do the same thing over and over again day-in and day-out. He wanted us to feel like we were itching to move on as we watched the monks give themselves completely in service to an impoverished village of local Muslims who were neglected by all but the monks of the Christian monastery. He wanted us to feel these things so that we might appreciate what it is like to commit oneself entirely to the love and sustenance of others even in the midst of one’s own poverty. He wanted us to feel a sense of awe at the incredible work of these men who lived only for God, and through God, only for the betterment of others.
Whether the monks were making honey, growing crops, or providing free medical care to the poor, these men always lived for the glory of God through service to the community. They even listened to the complaints and problems of the locals, offering advice when they could. For instance, in one scene early on in the movie, Doctor Luc listened to the plight of a young local girl who was suffering under the weight of an arranged marriage to a man she did not like at all. Not only did he listen, but he offered advice, comforted, and consoled the child. Such were the services these monks provided to the town.
Another method in which Beauvois communicated simplicity was through the lack of music in the film. Only once did Director Beauvois use music aside from the monk’s hymns, and that was only to illustrate a dramatic, dynamic scene in which he paved the way for the ending of the movie. Otherwise, Beavois used absolutely no music. He only used the noises that would occur naturally in the course of acting, talking, worshipping, and communing with nature. The result was a feeling of great peace, tranquility, and simplicity. When one of the monks went outside to pray, one could only hear the crunch of his footsteps, the tweeting of the birds, and the sound of his whispering prayers. I felt as if I was actually in the scene, praying with the monk in the solitary woods instead of feeling like I was in a movie theater watching a monk pray in the woods. The difference between the two is the difference between a mediocre director and an award winning director like Xavier.
Indeed Xavier Beauvois knows how to tell a compelling story about an incredible group of real men. Even in the midst of terrorist attacks, these monks stood their ground for the good of the community in which they served. They struggled to bring peace to a world of chaos, and love to a world of hate. If you want to know what it is like to truly serve and to love, then I strongly urge you to go see “Of Gods and Men.”
Reviewed By: Hunter Hodge